Chapter 27 Tyler
Two covers with Phoenix Down on a crappy guitar feels a lot less intimidating than I thought it would.
The videos are probably going viral already, which may make Leif’s day or may piss him off. You never know with that guy and his mood swings. But since I passed on Vortex’s offer, I’m leaning toward the pissed-off version of my manager.
Either way, I don’t care. It feels like something’s happening, the good kind of something.
After the set, of course, I’m bombarded by more parents. There’s at least a thousand selfies and all sorts of questions.
Even Principal Markham comes over to shake my hand.
Brittney Fenwick, Naomi’s high school bestie, is now a vice principal and it’s the weirdest thing ever. We all thought she would be a pop star. Turns out, she has other talents.
"You were great," Naomi whispers at me when we get a free moment. "Thank you for doing this." She’s smiling and it’s not sarcastic. It’s genuine, and it’s making me all fuzzy on the inside.
"You’re the only woman I’d do this for," I reply quickly and shift my attention to another parent asking for a photo.
I persevere through it all until the evening finally starts to wind down and people slowly leave.
Volunteers clean up the auditorium and the back room.
Naomi’s double-checking everything with her clipboard.
The pen she’s holding sometimes travels behind her ear when she needs to grab something.
Then it’s back between her fingers as she scribbles notes.
She hasn’t changed. Not a bit. She was the same busy bee all those years ago.
Her need to do things for other people without asking for anything in return is another reason why I’ve been fascinated with her ever since I saw her in the Medinas’ kitchen that day Adri invited me over to play video games.
"Hey, how about a quick trip down memory lane?" I ask her later when we’re about to wrap up for the night. It’s just us and a couple of other people, and she seems to be finished with all the tasks.
"What do you mean?"
"I haven’t stepped foot in here in seventeen years," I remind her. "Let’s go check out our old stomping ground."
She narrows her eyes at me. "Now?"
"It’s perfect. No one’s at school except for the custodian. Unless you want to do it in the daytime."
"God no. Whatever made you think I’d want to be seen with you in public?"
"You were seen with me in public today."
"That’s different," she says defiantly.
"How’s that different?" I tease her.
"Ah, just shut up, Ty, before I changed my mind and kick you out of my life for good." She hands the keys to one of the girls, asking her to lock up, and leads me outside to the building next door. Luckily, it's still unlocked and we quietly sneak inside.
The school smells like floor polish and chalk dust, nostalgia with a hint of troublemaking. I remember skipping algebra with the Brazilian exchange student. Mom threatened to ground me for life after she found out.
Naomi and I pass the classroom where we kissed until we couldn’t breathe when we arrived early so we could spend more time away from the watchful eyes of our parents. The memory is so vivid that suddenly, this crazy idea of really wanting her back doesn’t seem so impossible.
I glance at Naomi, wondering if that spark in her eyes is because she feels the same.
We drift through the hallways, our footsteps echoing a weird rhythm that sounds just right. Dim lights spill pools of shadow and brightness, and it’s like the past and present are duking it out. We pass the lockers where I first told her she was pretty, then she rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.
"Everything looks smaller," I say, running my fingers along the scarred metal. The walls are plastered with posters for dances and games, and the whole place is frozen in time.
Naomi chuckles. "You just got bigger, Strings. Outgrew this place, remember?"
"Oh, I do remember. Adri calling me a wannabe rockstar," I joke, but it feels a little too close to the truth.
"He wasn't wrong." She bumps me with her shoulder, and it's like we're eighteen again, making plans and skipping town in our heads.
I nudge her back playfully. My mind jumps to those parents recording us tonight, sharing our little show on every social media platform. I can see Zander somewhere in LA, laughing his ass off and calling Justice to share the joy.
An imaginary headline flashes in my mind. Tyler Brady Is Always Ready to Save the Day: The Former Guitarist of the Deviant, Steps up to Help a Coachella Valley High School Band.
Pathetic.
Then I look at Naomi again and think maybe not. Maybe playing a few covers on a cheap guitar with three teens was worth it because it made her happy.
"How’s he doing?" I ask.
"Adri?" She slows and meets my gaze.
"Yeah. Is he behaving?"
"He’s trying."
Her face softens, that tender way I remember that I hardly see these days, and my heart trips over itself like it can't find the right beat. I’ll never know what it’s like to have a sibling, but that’s another reason I haven’t told her why exactly I left.
I can’t become someone who drives them apart.
Especially not now, not after Jose’s gone and all they have is each other, no matter how dysfunctional their relationship gets sometimes.
The silence grows between us, but it isn't awkward like I expect. It's warm and comforting and makes me want to take her hand and keep walking. So I do.
I expect her to pull away.
She doesn’t.
The hallway stretches ahead, a line of lockers leading further into the building filled with more memories. My pulse hammers, a frantic rhythm.
Somehow these emotions I’ve been trying to suppress, these feelings I’ve kept contained all these years… I’m drowning in them, and I’m done pretending, done hiding what’s on my mind.
"Hey, Nomes… You ever think about this?" I blurt out, my voice bouncing off the walls. "Like, about us? All of this? About the past and the future and all the variables?"
"You’ve asked me that before, Ty."
We're walking faster now, almost jogging, like we'll outrun the years if we move quick enough. "Sometimes I want to undo it all," I confess.
"Really?" Her eyebrows go up, the skeptical look I know so well.
"Not your achievements. Just mine. Just be Ty. Your neighbor. Not Ty, the famous guitarist. We're still kids, you and me."
"Old kids," she corrects. "You’ve got the gray hairs to prove it."
I grin. "Two rogue strands, Nomes. Nothing more."
Her smile wavers, just for a moment. "So what's your plan? Show up at my door like you never left? Oh wait. You already did that, and you definitely can’t undo it. You’re Tyler Brady. You’ve got the awards and the fans and the career to prove it."
"You’ve got it too. Your career. Your restaurant. We tried what we wanted separately. Why can’t we try again but together?"
I halt in the middle of the hallway, my grasp on her hand tightening. I’m afraid if I don’t hold on hard enough this time, she’ll disappear. Only, for good.
"If you still have to ask why, you're an idiot," she says, and it's playful but not really.
"You're right," I admit. "I am an idiot for leaving you seventeen years ago."
The shadows on the walls change as she removes her hand from mine and leans against the wall. Tonight, she's stunning in this long blue dress that hugs her hourglass figure in all the right places. Her eyes linger on my face for a heartbeat, before our gazes lock.
My words trip over themselves, clumsy in my throat, but I let them come. "We could try, Nomes," I say. "For real."
She studies me. "You're serious?"
"Never stopped thinking about you."
The silence that follows is charged. There’s static in the air, waiting for a spark.
"Say something," I whisper, feeling too naked in this half-light.
Naomi tilts her head to the side, and I can't read her expression. Is she mad? Is she about to walk away? I can't tell. She holds my eyes a second longer, and I feel my heart just about to give up. Is this what it feels like—to finally be able to let your emotions rule you?
"Second chances are for fools," she declares.
"They are not. They’re for people who made mistakes that need correction."
"What happens tomorrow when management calls you and your band is back on the road?"
"It won’t happen. Even if it does, it’s different now."
"How is it different from then?"
"Because I know what I really want… You… That’s what I want."
"You know the reason I came back to Sageview? It’s because I don’t want the limelight.
Fame is tiring, Ty. It’s not for me. I don’t want to do red carpets and smile for the paparazzi tonight so that tomorrow, someone will tear apart my outfit.
I don’t want the attention. I want to feed people.
And you? You come with attention. A lot of it. "
"You got me there," I admit, stepping closer and placing my palm on the wall next to her shoulder.
The hallway around us shrinks with her standing in the shadows and me in the light, both reaching for the place in between. I don't want to mess this up, not again, not ever.
Naomi smiles, but there's an edge to it. "Are you going to chicken out this time if I say yes?"
"Nope," I say. "Think I'll stick around."
"Think?" Her eyebrow goes up again.
"Certain."
"You’re making a lot of bets, Tyler. First, the reunion. Now this."
The conversation stalls, a car on the edge of a cliff, its engine idling.
I watch her and try to figure out what she's thinking.
Maybe it's too late, maybe I should have stayed away.
Maybe, maybe, maybe. My free hand goes to my pocket, the same nervous gesture I've made for as long as I can remember.
"I really do want to try, Nomes," I husk out. "Not this physical-only bullshit. I want to try what we had before."