Take It All and Go

Kelly

I watch as Crash starts scribbling in his notebook again. Tommy and I both wait expectantly. When he's doing this, he's inspired and if you break his train of thought he can lose it.

Being here for this is good, but also awkward. I'm not sure I'll do it again. I love being around when they write. But now I feel like an outsider. I was never an outsider before. I'm not sure I can handle facing that every day.

A warm breeze ruffles the page Crash is curled over. He's left-handed, so without his other hand to brace the book, it shifts a lot when he's writing.

But it's obvious he's got something because a minute later he drops the pencil and sits back, cautious hope on his face.

He tears off the sheet and hands it to Tommy. "Play with that," he says, strumming again.

Tommy reads. His brows shoot to his hairline. "You sure?"

"Yep."

Forgetting to pretend my attention is elsewhere, I let the music take me—through the first verse where Crash burns at his mother. Then the build to the chorus where, behind Crash's crescendo, Tommy sings in a faint falsetto.

So take it all and go

(Never let you)

Whatever satisfies.

(Down again)

Leave and don't come back

(I know you hate me)

But you're never satisfied.

(Frown and then)

Everything's turned upside down

(I'm changing, this time's different)

You don't know wrong from right.

(Only love can save me)

So take it all, just take it all

(There's nothing left)

And go.

(No one but you)

Take it all and go.

(No one else can save me).

They cut off abruptly and I breathe again.

It isn't quite right but I look at Crash. "I love it," I say, and mean it.

"Thank you." Then he looks at Tommy who's trying different fingering on his guitar.

The only sound is the low thrum of strings not plucked, but tapped by the pads of fingers and thumbs, while my oblivious, former best friend pours his attention into a song because he doesn't know what to do about me.

Meanwhile, the guy I fell in love with, and who hurt me worse than any other human being ever has, frowns at his notebook and scribbles on the chaotic page.

I want to sink in on myself.

This is what we've become? This awkward, stilted nothing?

"Kel?" Crash says quietly.

I startle and look at him, realize Tommy's staring at me warily too. Were they talking to me? "Yeah?" It comes out much harsher than I mean it to.

"Would you sing what Tommy sang? I'm not sure if it doesn't feel right because the lyrics are off, or if it's just his voice. We need something more haunting."

They both watch me. At first, I bristle. You didn't talk to me for a year, now I'm supposed to help you write the next hit that will take you even further away? But the truth is, I've always loved singing with Crash. Even though my heart thuds at me to stop hurting it, I nod.

Crash stares at this knees as he strums the opening chords. He and Tommy sing the verse, then launch the chorus. I try to do exactly what Tommy did before, but I don't think it works any better.

Frustrated, Crash shoves his notebook across the table and stands up. The notebook flutters across to slide into my textbook.

As I read the words the tune plays in my head and I tap out the rhythm on my thigh.

The verse is fabulous. It's the chorus that's not working. Why?

I replay the tune in my head. "Tommy?" Crash is at the other end of the deck, leaning on the railing, staring at the trees.

"Yeah?"

"Can-can I use your guitar for a second?"

His lips slide up on one side and he passes it over without hesitation.

"Thanks." I set it on my knee. I'm pretty sure I can play the chords, that's not the problem. I really just want the guitar in my hands because I'm going to sing and the bulk of it always feels like a shield when I'm performing.

I stumble a couple times, taking too long to find the chord. But since Crash has his back to me, leaning on the rail, I ask Tommy to sing the chorus, make my voice pleading and quiet, and let my heart do what it wants to with the words of the response.

So take it all and go

(No, please no.)

Whatever satisfies.

(I need you in my life)

Leave and don't come back

(How can you turn your back?)

But you're never satisfied.

(I can see it in your eyes)

Everything's turned upside down

(Turn around, please turn around)

You don't know wrong from right.

(Don't know day from night)

So take it all, just take it all

(Drown without your love)

And go.

(Don't—)

Take it all and go.

(—make me no one).

I resolve the last chord and risk a glance up. Behind his sunglasses, Tommy gapes. Crash leans back on the rail, staring at me, arms folded across his chest. He looks easy and delicious and—gah.

"I-it isn't her voice in your head. It's yours. The part of you that wants her to stay."

There's a moment where they're both staring at me, then Tommy says, "She's right."

A warm knot appears in my chest.

Crash doesn't reply. I wait, my insides on the brink of shattering.

With a weird noise in his throat, Crash pushes off the rail and stalks across the deck to the open sliding door into the house, slamming it behind him.

Well, okay then. I hand the guitar back to Tommy. "Thanks." I pack up my books.

"Don't go, Kel," Tommy says, putting a hand on my wrist.

I pull away and keep packing books and pens into my bag. "Maybe I can come to your house sometime or something instead?"

"Of course, but—"

"This was a bad idea." It's true. But it breaks my heart. I grab my purse from beside Coda and haul it over my shoulder. "I'll be careful pulling out of the driveway. Is there a button for the gate or—"

The sliding door rumbles again and I freeze. Crash stomps out, a different notebook in his hand that he tosses on the table. It's open to another page of scribbles, chicken scratch, and side-ways lines where he's run out of room. "Can you fix this one too?"