Losing the Fight by Elisabeth Staab

Author:Elisabeth Staab
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Elisabeth Staab
Published: 2017-04-16T00:00:00+00:00

I want to run into the sun

The way we did when we were young

I want to find that place

A secret space

For just the two of us

I lose track of what I’m singing when I look up and notice Tyler standing in the doorway between the garage and the house. He’s obscured in shadow next to a kayak hanging on the wall, but my body always senses when he’s nearby.

I’ve noticed it since I came to town. Ty-sense.

We get to the end of the song with me on autopilot, and launch into it again before moving on to some of the band’s favorite covers of Gin Blossoms, Coldplay, Adele, and Andra Day.

I’m a little shaky at the end. Whenever I’ve been singing for a long time, I always am. There’s something about putting all of myself into a song, all of my energy, all of my intention and emotion, that leaves me tired and wrung out afterwards. Even if I’ve just woken up, I usually feel like I need another few hours of sleep after singing. I figure this is probably another side effect of the head injury, except nobody’s ever been able to tell me for certain.

One reason why, much as I love to sing, I don’t think I could make it a career. Something that leaves me weak like a toddler at the end is something I need to have some control over. If these guys ever get interest from another record label, I don’t know what I’ll do.

When we’re done, I gather my things, greedily guzzling a bottle of water and accepting comments from a couple of the band members as well as other people who stopped by to listen. Alonzo, Cassie, some random people who live nearby.

“That was great,” Cassie says to me again. “Listen, I sing on the weekends at Joe’s Bar. If you ever want to stop in and join me on the microphone, give me a call. I bet I could get Joe to set up something for the whole band, too.”

Wow.

Then I look up, and there’s Ty again. Still. Staring. Closer.

He’d seemed still and distant after the kissing “incident” so I’d been figuring he’d want to stay clear. It surprised me to see him here listening at all, much less sticking around after. I grab the jacket I bought myself at the local college bookstore and head for the mouth of Alonzo’s open garage, chilly now that I’m no longer performing.

More so, feeling vulnerable that Ty of all people has seen me stripped bare.

Oh, sure, he’s seen me mostly without clothes at this point. That’s different. Making music is an entirely different kind of revealing. It’s emotional. And a hell of a lot more intimate if you’re doing it in front of someone you care about. In front of someone you’ve cared about since you were a nerdy fifteen-year-old.

“Didn’t know you had the pipes to pull off such a moving rendition of ‘Rise Up.’”

I freeze, feeling his words warm my back even though we’re not touching.

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