Part 46 (1/2)
f.u.c.k, now I'm p.i.s.sed.
”Yeah, but he was a douche. She told me this,” I say, and s.h.i.+t, am I making excuses for her?
”Fine, but this is your career, Jace. Your livelihood, your dreams-you gotta figure out if it's worth it.”
Swallowing hard, I say with as much conviction as I can manage, ”She is worth it.”
”Worth losing it all? Really?”
”Yes, ugh, no. I don't know. I don't want to lose my career, and I sure as h.e.l.l don't want to lose her either. I love her.”
”I get that, dude. But it just seems like a lot of lies, a lot of hold-backs, and I don't think you need that.”
I don't.
So what does that mean?
”I just don't want to you to lose it all. You can get over heartbreak, Jace. But losing your career? Something we've worked so hard for. That's not something you can get over. Be smart here. ”
I nod. ”Yeah, I am. But Jude, if I break it off with her now, which feels impossible, what keeps her dad from ruining everything?”
He pauses at that, and I hold my breath. ”Yeah, I have nothing. You're screwed, dude.”
”Wow, thanks.”
”Sorry, bro.”
”Yeah, whatever,” I snap and I feel like I'm drowning. Why does this day have to suck so badly? But most of all, why couldn't she just be honest with me? Why couldn't her family treat her right? Why couldn't they love her the way my family loves me? d.a.m.n it!
”Jace, don't be like that. I'm trying to help because I love you.”
”I know, and I appreciate it, I do. But now I don't know what to do because I feel like I have to choose, and I can't. I love them both, more than my own life, and I don't want to pick. I want to have both of them, I want to be happy, but I just don't know if I can. I feel like I have no choice, and that scares the living h.e.l.l out of me.”
”I hear you, but you've only been dating for, what, a month? Hockey has been a part of you for years.”
”But she's a part of me too,” I admit and he pauses.
”I didn't know it was that serious.”
I close my eyes, swallowing past the lump in my throat. ”It is.”
”Fine, just talk to her, Jace. You don't have to pick one or the other yet. I'm just saying you need to be smart. If you can get out unscathed, I'd suggest that. But I can hear it in your voice, she means something to you, and I want you to be happy. But I also won't let you get hurt.”
”I hear you,” I admit, even if it does hurt.
I know he's right.
And I have no clue what to do.
I know I might be overreacting, but I'm worried.
”Hey, Stu. Thanks for taking my call.”
”I didn't give you my cell phone for nothing. What's up?”
I clear my throat, wondering if I'm making the right decision. But I don't even know why I'm questioning myself. I want to take care of Jace before I leave. ”I know I'm supposed to come in today. But I'm leaving town tomorrow, like I had said, and I've had cla.s.ses all day and I really need to pack. Is there any way I can start Wednesday?”
”Of course,” he says loudly, causing me to hold the phone away from my ear. ”You were just gonna do paperwork since I had to leave the office today. Wednesday is great, but you better come with a song we can work on together.”
I smile even though he can't see me. ”Absolutely.”
”Then we're good. Have a nice trip,” he says as I push the door open to the music building, going out into the brisk fall air.
I know he wants to end the call, but I continue, ”Also, I've been thinking about what you said.”
”Yeah? Which part?”
”My voice. That you think it isn't sellable.”
”Oh? And?”
”I know I said that I think I am sellable, but I'm second-guessing that.”
”Okay. So what are you saying?”
Gah, what am I saying? Is that what I want? A part of me knows it is. But then I'm not sure if it's because of the anxiety the stage causes or if it's because I know I'll never see Jace. We don't see each other enough as it is, and the thought of going months without him is painful. But lately, the anxiety has been insane. It could change when I go on my new meds, but it might not. I don't want to work for something that is unattainable. Something that can compromise my health. I have to think about me here. And in the long run, songwriting is my pa.s.sion. It's what makes me the happiest. Yes, I love performing my songs, building my songs, but what if my anxiety gets worse? But is this living my dreams? I'm so torn.
”I think I want to be a songwriter.”
”Cool, I think you're brilliant, and I support that. I feel you'll go further than you would as a performer, honestly.”
Biting the inside of my cheek, I nod. ”I could change my mind, though,” I add with a laugh, and he laughs along with me.
”Avery, the showcase isn't until March. We have time to figure it out. But, in the meantime, I want you to write. I want you to write till your fingers bleed.”
Grinning, I look up and my head falls to the side when I see Jace leaning against my car. What the h.e.l.l? Remembering that I'm on the phone, I say, ”Yeah, no problem. I have notebooks upon notebooks of songs.”
”Then do me a favor and drop them off to me today. Is that possible?”
I stop in front of Jace and his eyes are on me as I nod. ”Yeah, I'll go get them and run them up to your office.”
”Awesome, I'll go through them this weekend, and we'll discuss Wednesday. Have a nice trip.”
”Thanks, Stu.” I hang up, nodding to Jace's leg. ”What are you doing? Shouldn't you be sleeping? Not walking?”
”I drove,” he says, hooking his thumb to where his car is. His body is tense, his eyes dark, and I think he's mad.
What in the world?
”Are you okay? Are you in pain? You look p.i.s.sed.”