The Sound of Us

Chapter Eighteen. “Riptide” by Vance Joy

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“Riptide” by Vance Joy

SKYE

Isla was hunched over the kitchen table with her laptop and an energy drink on Saturday evening when I came back from the library. I hadn’t seen her since Friday night after our game of hide-and-seek when she and Haley had left with Nick and Chad for a few drinks at the campus bar, and Dante had gone to the station to do his show. I’d begged off, telling them I needed to get up early to go to the gym and put a dent in all my assignments, but the truth was I needed space. Isla messaged later that night to check up on me and let me know she was spending the night at Haley’s place, and I’d switched to video and told her what had happened, right down to how I’d run away.

I’d had a terrible night’s sleep afterward, tossing and turning and wondering if I’d made a terrible mistake. I knew Dante’s reputation. He’d already ghosted me once after our encounter in the basement. I had hoped my morning workout would help me sort out my feelings, but it was the walk past the social science building to the library later that afternoon that had finally sent my thoughts down another path. Of course, that ended the minute I walked into the kitchen.

“How was the library?”

“Fine.” I dropped my backpack and grabbed a protein shake from the fridge. Old habits die hard.

“Did you stop at any storage closets along the way?” Isla asked.

I groaned and sat at the table across from her. “Don’t make me regret telling you.”

“Did you message him?” She tapped on her keyboard. Isla was a multitasker. She usually had a show streaming on her iPad, two or three conversations going on her phone, and at least six tabs open when she was working on one of her labs. “Or, more importantly, did he message you?”

“No and yes.” I pulled out my phone and opened one of the tabs I’d saved over the course of the afternoon. I’d been looking up information on universities turning to private sector and public-private partnerships to address student housing needs. Dante’s comments about the university’s plans for the empty buildings on campus had given me an idea for an article that would do double duty for both the university paper and my investigative journalism class. Was there really a need for that much student housing? Some of Isla’s science labs had been scheduled for as late as 9:00 P.M. because there weren’t enough classrooms. Why, then, close the social science building? Was it possible that once private money became involved, profit would take the driving seat instead of student need?

“Yes?” She looked up at me over the rim of her cup and lifted an eyebrow.

“Yes, but I left him unread. I didn’t want to know what he said.”

“So you’re going to ghost him?”

“I ran away afterward,” I pointed out. “It’s not like he didn’t have a clue that something was wrong. He told me after we kissed in the basement that what happened shouldn’t have happened, so how is this going to be any different? I don’t even know if Noah has rules about stuff like that.” My pulse kicked up a notch. “What if I lose my internship?”

“What if you don’t announce it to Noah?” she suggested. “No one knows except you, me, and Dante. And was it really a bad decision? It sounds like you both had a good time.”

“It was the best sex I’ve ever had,” I admitted. I’d never felt comfortable enough with anyone I’d been with to be as assertive as I’d been with Dante. He’d made me feel safe. He’d been caring, but also controlling in a way that had made me feel free to let go. It would have been perfect except for my concerning reaction when he called me a “good girl.” His praise had sent little sparks through my body, lighting me up inside, making me want to give more, do better. What did it say about me that it turned me on?

“Maybe you should just talk to him,” she said. “Maybe it was the best sex he ever had.”

“I can’t. I still need to process.” I shook the bottle in my hand. “And what if he wanted to tell me he thought it was a mistake? I don’t want him throwing it in my face like he did last time. It’s better if I just assume it was a one-off and act like it never happened. It’s safer that way.”

I had no intention of falling for a brooding musician who ran hot and cold, but life wasn’t sticking to the plan. Although I wanted to blame it on my sudden freedom from the rigors of training, there was no denying our chemistry. Every time we were together, sparks flew and I became incapable of rational thought. I needed to slow things down. Guard my heart. I knew all too well the emotional price for failure.

“How was your night out?” I asked, trying to steer her off a subject I’d been trying not to think about all day.

“Nick asked me out for coffee. Just us. I said no.”

She immediately had my attention. Isla didn’t talk much about her hookups and I’d never heard her talk about a guy in the context of anything other than friendship. “I thought you liked him.”

“I do. He’s a nice guy.” She stared at her screen, but her fingers didn’t move. “Drop-dead gorgeous, super smart, plays in a band, writes songs, makes me laugh, kicks ass on the basketball court. What’s not to like? I invited him to spend the night with me at Haley’s place last night and he said no. He said he didn’t want to ruin things between us. He wants to get to know me first.”

“Add ‘gentleman’ to his list of qualities.” I had to hand it to Nick. If he’d spent the night with Isla, he would never have had the chance at anything more. She would have kicked his ass out in the morning and never looked back.

“I don’t want him to get to know me, so I said no to coffee.” Her hand fisted on the keyboard, so I sat down beside her.

“I know you, and I think you’re pretty great,” I said. “Why don’t you give him a chance?”

“Because…” Her voice quivered. “If he wants to be anything more than a hookup or a friend, then at some point, I’d have to tell him what happened to me and then he wouldn’t want me anymore. He’d look at me with disgust or pity, and I couldn’t take it.”

I covered her hand with mine. “For the record, I don’t think a guy who would give up an invitation to spend the night with you just to get to know you better would ever look at you in disgust or pity, but I totally understand. You need to play it safe; just like me. And when the time is right for you, if it ever feels right, I have a feeling he’ll be right there waiting because, Iz, you’re worth waiting for.”

On Monday morning I got approval from both my university professor and the managing editor of the Havencrest Express to go ahead with the story about the empty buildings. I spent the next two days immersed in my investigation and discovered that six buildings slated for redevelopment had been sitting empty for four years, and nothing had been done since the contracts were signed. After hitting roadblocks obtaining documents from the university administration, I decided to do a shorter piece bringing attention to the fact that the university had partnered with private developers to repurpose the old buildings, which would give outside interests control over most of the student residences on campus.

I wrote all day Wednesday and managed to get the piece in hours before the evening deadline. Isla called Haley over to celebrate, and we partied so hard I had to drag myself out of bed the next morning and was almost late for my shift at the station.

“You look rough,” Chad said on Thursday morning when he walked into the lounge to find me collapsed on the couch, waiting for the painkillers to take effect so my brain would start working properly.

“I sent in my first investigative piece to the Havencrest Express yesterday and it’s coming out this morning.” I groaned and flipped to my side to get away from the glare of my lights. “I might have celebrated too much. I can barely remember what we did all evening.”

I had a vague memory of asking Isla and Haley why they thought Dante hadn’t contacted me since our storage closet sexy times and them daring me to use Isla’s phone to anonymously message his show to prove I wasn’t afraid to tell him how I felt. I’d never been able to resist a dare so I’d sent a message asking him to play Jake Scott’s “Like This.” It’s a song about giving up and then finding someone who sparks a fire inside you, and wanting to stay in that moment, wondering if something might happen between you.

“Next time, call me over.” Chad filled a coffee cup from the pot in the corner and brought it over to me. “I have a special hangover cocktail that works in under fifteen minutes. Can you stomach raw eggs?”

“God. No.” I groaned and sat up so I could drink the coffee. “Don’t talk about food.”

“How are my interns doing today?” Dante walked into the lounge wearing a black Jake Scott Goldenboy hoodie. I spat my coffee out on the tile floor.

“You okay, buttercup?” He came over and thumped me gently on the back. “Did it go down the wrong way?”

I nodded, making an indecipherable noise while my brain spun out of control. First, he was acting… normal. Like we hadn’t had sex in a closet and then ghosted each other all week. And then there was the hoodie. Was it a coincidence? Did he know I was behind the call, or had he decided to pull out that particular hoodie because of the request? And how did he just happen to have Jake Scott merch? I had a bad feeling that he knew it was me, and I’d revealed too much about myself with the song.

“I’ll go see if Noah is ready for us.” Chad made a hasty and awkward exit that heightened my state of unease. Was it that obvious something had happened between Dante and me?

I looked up from my half-empty cup, trying to think of something to say. “Are you a Jake Scott fan?”

“I played for one of his opening bands at the House of Blues.” He grabbed some paper towels and wiped up the mess at my feet. “Noah got me some last-minute session work filling in for a bass player who got sick. He hadn’t really been on my radar, but I like his stuff. He’s got great energy on stage.”

My mouth dropped open, and nothing came out. I wasn’t sure if I was more surprised that he liked a pop singer who sang love songs mostly for a younger crowd, or that he’d played with the opening band.

“Surprise is a good look on you,” he said, his voice amused. “I’ll make a note to surprise you more often.”

“Have you had any other gigs like that?”

“A few.” He sat on the couch beside me, placing his hand on the cushion beside mine, close enough to touch. “Noah knows everybody in the music industry in Chicago. He’s been trying to get me to quit my band and do some session work. If I wasn’t planning to go to law school, I’d try and make a living playing bass. My dream would be to go on tour but that was never going to happen with Inferno.”

“Did you quit the band?”

Dante shrugged. “They weren’t serious about playing.”

“I’m sorry. I know what it’s like to have a dream taken away from you.”

“Thanks, buttercup.” His eyes drifted from my face down to the cup clutched in my left hand. “Rough night?”

“I submitted an investigative story about the empty buildings on campus to the university paper and I might have celebrated a little too hard.”

“You should have sent me a message. I would have celebrated with you.” He moved his finger the tiniest bit and stroked my pinky. A bolt of white lightning shot through my body and went straight to my core.

“Hey, guys.” Chad appeared in the doorway, and we jerked our hands apart like guilty teenagers. “Noah’s waiting in his office for us.”

We made our way down the hallway. Noah was at his desk looking paler and more tired than I’d ever seen him. His hair was out of its usual ponytail and hung limp around his face, and he had dark circles under his eyes.

“You look like shit.” Dante cleared off a chair for me. “Is everything okay?”

Noah waved a dismissive hand. “Too many late nights trying to figure out how to convince you to give up saving the world to become the next great bass player.”

“You didn’t have your morning coffee.” Dante gestured to the empty pot. “I’ll fill it up so you don’t keel over from caffeine withdrawal.”

“Law isn’t such a bad profession,” I said after Dante had gone. “He can help a lot of people.”

Noah shook his head and sighed. “The world will lose a great musical talent. I want my legacy to include a picture of him on the wall when he becomes the next John Entwistle and people will know he got his start here.”

“He’s more of a Jaco Pastorius.” I lowered my voice and tried to mock his famous line about being the greatest bass player in the world.

“My voice is a bit lower.” Dante was standing in the doorway, a smile spread across his face.

Noah laughed. “She’s got the ego right.”

Chad and Dante cleared off two more chairs and we went over the work Chad and I had done the past week. The strong aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, reminding me that I’d spat out my caffeine fix on the floor.

“I’ve been trying to expand our programming because we have too many empty slots during the day.” Noah poured his coffee and leaned back in his chair. “Chad has agreed to do two sports-related shows, but I also want to add some more spoken-word news programming…”

I didn’t know if it was the gleam in Noah’s eyes or Dante’s awkward shift in his seat that made my skin prickle. “What did you have in mind?”

“I read your article this morning in the Havencrest Express . Excellent work, and very relevant for us at the station. I’d like you to do an investigative journalism show and break a story that will put us on the map.”

“Uh… do you not remember my last on-air experience?” I swallowed hard. “I was so sure you weren’t going to hire me that I was standing at my door with a packed suitcase when you called with the offer.”

“Hear me out,” Noah said, raising his hand. “It would be a great experience for you and a profile-booster for the station. I’ve already called your investigative journalism prof and he said he’ll consider giving you course credit for the show. Think about it. Did a professor receive an undisclosed grant from a pharmaceutical company to fudge his results? Did the head of a faculty get paid off to let a politician’s son into a particular program? Find me a story so high profile, the university won’t be able to take our space without a major outcry.”

I felt an unfamiliar rush of pride at Noah’s praise and his confidence in my ability. My dad had rarely had a good word to say no matter how great my achievements. I was never good enough—never fast enough, never scored enough, just never enough. But this wasn’t basketball. I didn’t have any experience. I knew I could do the research and writing, but talking live on the air…

“I’ll handle the sound board for you,” Dante said, as if he knew what I was thinking. “All you have to do is talk.”

Noah had faith in me. Dante would be on the other side of the glass. They believed in me. It was time I believed in myself.

“Okay.” I twisted my hands in my lap. “I’ll do it.”