Chapter 33
Avery
Cas’ song
These last couple of weeks with Cas have been pure bliss.
It’s not just mind-blowing sex. Okay, the sex is fantastic.
What I cherish the most, though, is our genuine emotional connection.
Cas has given me the best gift: a lover and best friend wrapped up together, and now that I have it, I don’t ever want to let it go.
My mind, however, has been occupied by two things: Cas and the song I wrote about him.
Every time I think about sharing it with him, terror runs through my body.
I haven’t sung in front of anyone in a long time.
Each morning, I wake determined to share it with him, but every day I find a reason not to.
It doesn't help that Bri constantly asks me about his reaction to the song, and my excuses are becoming increasingly pathetic.
Instead of facing her head-on and being honest, I avoid her texts and calls.
As I lie in bed, I obsess about the box in my old bedroom.
Maybe it’ll give me the confidence to share my song with Cas.
A frustrated grunt leaves my mouth and I aggressively push off my blankets before walking to the room to grab it.
Soon enough, I’m clutching the box in my hands like it’s my only lifeline.
My heart gallops inside my chest as I stare at the notebook for what feels like an eternity.
This isn’t your average journal, though.
It’s not something you’d use to bitch about your day or swoon about your current crush.
This book was given to me for the sole purpose of composing my music.
Communicating my feelings usually comes naturally to me, but sometimes the words become lodged in my throat, making it impossible to speak.
My mom gave me my first journal at the age of ten.
It first started as random scribblings about my day.
Then those scribblings turned into poetry, which eventually led to songs.
Whenever I couldn’t make sense of my feelings, I grabbed my notebook and began to write as everything began to click together in my mind.
Music was my form of therapy. This notebook has me walking down memory lane to the day Cas gave me this notebook.
Summer before high school
It was a warm, sunny, August day and school was set to start next week.
The sun’s warmth felt like the Goldilocks story, not too hot, but not too cold.
I tilted my head toward the sky as my hair swirled in the wind.
Cas and I were sitting out on his grandparents' dock, feet dangling, skimming across the top of the water.
I was in my yellow sundress and Cas in his black jeans with holes in the knees and a gray tank top.
It never mattered how hot it was. He was always in jeans.
There was something soothing about sitting next to my best friend and staring out at the calm water.
We would start high school the following week and I grew increasingly nervous.
“Can't believe we’re going to be freshmen next week,” Cas said, reading my mind.
“I know. I can't believe it. I’m excited, but nervous. It’s such a change from what we’re used to. I just don’t know what will happen,” I said.
“You have nothing to be nervous about. People are going to love you. I mean, who wouldn't?” Cas asked, looking at me with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. Before I could process what that look meant, he continued, “I, uh, I have something for you, but I have to go and get it. I’ll be right back.”
After a few minutes, he ran back towards me, carrying a black shoebox. I looked at the box, and when my gaze landed on his face, I burst out laughing. “You got me shoes? Awww, you shouldn't have.” I chuckled.
“Don't be such a smartass, Avery. Just open the box,” he said.
My hands reached for the box, but he hesitated, slightly pulling back.
“I saw this in the store and thought of you, and, uh, you can tell me if you don't like it.
I hope you do, but it's okay if you don't. You can tell me you like it and then never use it again.
I uh—" I placed my hands on the box and looked into his eyes.
His voice was shaky, and he talked so fast that it was hard to keep up.
“Cas, please just give me the box. I’m sure I’ll like whatever it is because it came from you.
” After a few deep breaths, he finally let go of the box.
I stared at it for a moment before opening it.
I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, but it wasn't this.
Staring me in the face was a velvety, forest-green journal with two silky black ribbons securing it closed.
I stroked the journal, feeling its softness glide across my fingertips.
I removed it from the box, untying the ribbon to discover the most beautiful golden pages.
So many emotions fluttered beneath my chest. At first, I was confused about why he got me this, but also touched that he went through all the trouble to get me this beautiful notebook.
I didn’t even hear the sound of the camera going off because I was too stunned. I must have made a face, though, because his next few words took me by surprise.
“You don't like it.” Cas’ body oozed disappointment.
“What? No! Cas, I love it. I’m just confused by why you would gift me this journal.”
“You deserved to have a special journal just for your music. Something to put all of your beautiful songs into,” he said quietly, not quite looking at my face.
Tears welled behind my eyes and I was grateful he wasn’t looking at me.
I needed a moment to collect myself. This was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for me, which meant even more coming from him.
I caressed the notebook gently as if it were fragile and might break apart any second.
My vision clouded and hot tears rushed down my face.
“Damn it, Avery, I didn't mean to upset you. I know you love writing, and you’re so talented. I shit, I'm sorry. Here, give it to me and I’ll take it back. Don't worry, I’ll fix it.” I returned the journal to the box and threw my arms around him.
“Cas, you will do no such thing. This is one of the nicest things you could have done for me. I will cherish this journal forever and can’t wait to start writing in it.
If you take it back or apologize for getting me this, I will throw your ass into this lake.
” He hugged me back, and this hug felt different somehow.
I put that thought away to process later.
I pulled back and reached for the journal, touching it again to make sure it was real.
I had been slowly stumbling since the beginning of summer break. But with this one moment, this one act of kindness, I knew. I gazed up at his beautiful face through tear-soaked eyes. I realized I had fallen head over heels in love with my best friend.
Present day, Fall of 2023
When I place the box on the end of my bed, it tumbles to the ground with a soft thud, scattering its contents across my bedroom floor.
Setting my journal aside, I reach for the box and that’s when I see the photo from that summer.
Cas was always taking photos. With his grandfather being so talented at photography, it made sense that Cas would take to the hobby, as well.
And he's stupidly good at it. Cas being Cas, would shrug and make some self-deprecated joke anytime I told him so.
My fingers caress the photo and I can feel the emotions of that day as if they were happening in the present.
Any doubts I had about sharing my song with him now flew out the window.
The thought of him walking around feeling like he’s broken is the encouragement I need to follow through.
I place the photo in the box and place it on the bed.
Reaching for my phone, I text Cas before I lose my bravery.
Me: Hey, are you busy?
Cas: Not really. What’s up?
Me: Can you come over? I have something I want to show you.
I am waiting for his response. Those three little dots dance for a few seconds. My heart feels like it's in my throat with how fast and hard it's beating.
Cas: Be there in five.
I let out a long, unsteady breath and call the person who always comforts me.
“She’s alive. I’ve been texting you,” Bri answers.
“I know I’ve been avoiding you. I’m sorry. I was just calling to let you know I’m doing it today. I texted Cas and he’s on his way over.” I don’t need to clarify what I am doing because Bri knows. She always knows.
“Fucking finally. How are you feeling?” she asks. My thoughts and feelings pour out of me too quickly. I should be worried that Bri won’t understand what I’m saying, but she’s known me too long.
“Girl, that man worships the ground you walk on. He’s going to love it. Trust yourself. Trust your talent, but more importantly, trust his feelings for you. I read the song and it is good, Avery. Like professional-level, good. Just let go and sing your beautiful heart out.”
“I knew you would be the person to call to help calm me down. Thanks, Bri. I honestly don't know what I would do without you.” My heart rate slows and relief wraps around me like a warm hug.
“Duh. You don't need luck or good vibes because he’ll love it. Trust that gut of yours, and make sure you let me know how it goes. I love you,” she says.
“I love you, too, bye.”
Cas enters my music room at the exact moment I hang up the phone. “Oh, so you say, ‘I love you’ to everyone?” I know he isn't serious by the teasing nature of his tone.
“You know I love you. That was Bri on the phone, giving me some last-minute courage and advice.”
“Why do you need courage?” he asks. His eyes follow mine as I reach for the journal. “Is that…” he asks. I nod my head while hyper-fixating on his facial expressions.
“Wow, I haven't seen that thing in ages. I can't believe you still have it.” Cas moves past me toward the box before looking up at me. He walks toward me and gently picks up the photo as if he’s afraid he’ll damage it. Cas clears his throat before continuing. “You, uh, you kept this?” he asks.
“Of course, I kept it. It’s a beautiful photo, Cas.
Despite how I felt for you during high school, I still cared about you.
The photo and notebook came from you so that makes them important to me.
I do have a confession, though. When we stopped being friends when you were, well, you know.
” I still can’t say the words. My eyes cast downward.
“Using heroin? It’s okay. You can say it.”
“Right. Anyway, do you remember when you told me about your childhood a few weeks ago?” He stares at me in confusion, so I keep going. “You questioned me about my feelings and asked if I was okay, and I kept saying yes.” I search his face, watching his confusion turn to recognition.
I continued. “Well, I kind of lied. I wasn't sad, but that night after you fell asleep, I felt inspired to write.
It's something I haven't been able to do since you relapsed.” A mix of sadness and guilt coats my voice.
Clearing my throat, I continue. “I was so angry and hurt you chose drugs over me and every time I tried to put pen to paper, nothing would come out.
I thought maybe I could write in the old notebooks, but still nothing came.
So yeah, I haven't been able to write again until recently, until you.”
Finally gathering my courage, I look up at his face and see it flutter with emotions.
“I-I'm so sorry. Damn it I just…while I was using, I was only concerned with my next high.
No one else mattered. The fact that you stopped writing because of me makes me feel like a huge asshole.
All the apologies in the world will never fix that.
I can't believe I took that away from you,” Cas says while putting his face in his hands.
“Cas, look at me.” I wait for his eyes to lock with mine before continuing.
“I didn’t say any of this to make you feel bad.
I said them because you deserve to know how big of a deal it is that you’re here with me now.
You’ve awoken so much in me and I’m forever grateful.
I asked you to come here because I wrote something for you and wanted to share it. Is that okay?”
“Yes, of course, I want to hear it. I would be honored.” When they say the eyes are the window to the soul, they weren’t kidding. A mix of love and awe swirls behind Cas’ eyes.
“Okay. It's called Stained Glass.” I hear his intake of breath. And before he can speak, I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and begin to sing.