The Sound of Us

Chapter Twenty-Four. “Chasing Cars” by Snow Patrol

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“Chasing Cars” by Snow Patrol

DANTE

The morning after I took Skye through the secret passageway, I went home.

I hadn’t been to the house in River Forest since the day I’d found Sasha in the bathroom in a tub full of blood. She’d left a note taped to the mirror, handwritten on the puppy dog stationary I’d bought for her twelfth birthday. Sasha had always wanted a dog, but my father refused. Looking back, I had a feeling he knew a dog would try to defend Sasha from his abuse, and he had enough trouble dealing with me.

I had never forgiven Sasha for taking her life the way she did. She knew I would be the one to find her. She knew I would to try to save her. She knew I would haul her out of the bath slippery and wet and naked, while I begged the 911 operator to tell me what to do. She knew I’d be alone. Not just then, but forever after.

She knew and she did it anyway.

I’d blocked the house from my mind the way I’d blocked everything else about my family. I didn’t talk about it. I didn’t think about it. As far as I was concerned, my life started the day hers ended and my memories of the past were gone.

But then I met Skye and my walls started to crumble. First my loss, then my pain, then stories about Fruit Loops and ham sand wiches. When I told her about my house, something broke inside me and the memories came flooding back.

Once upon a time, I had a home.

I borrowed Noah’s car and drove to River Forest. I didn’t know what possessed me, only that I had to go. Maybe some small part of me actually thought my father would have kept the house out of sentiment, or even as real estate investment. I imagined I would walk inside and see my mother’s paintings on the wall—vibrant colors and abstract designs that had made her the darling of modern art collectors. I would see the couch where she would curl up with Sasha and me to watch movies on the big-screen TV, run my hand over her treasured collection of vinyl records, and brush the dust off the turntable where she played her old-time rock ‘n’ roll whenever my father was out of town. My feet would sink into the thick carpet where we’d danced and belted out the lyrics to her favorite songs. I would see her everywhere in all the things she’d left behind.

And I would see Sasha, hiding in her pretty pink bedroom from the shadows in the night.

I parked a few blocks away and walked down the quiet tree-lined street until I reached the Victorian heritage home that I’d lived in until I was sixteen. For a split second, I thought it was still our house, but with a fresh coat of paint, and new front door. But I didn’t recognize the cars in the driveway, or the tire swing hanging from the oak tree in the front yard. The bicycles on the lawn were pink and pretty and someone had set up a teddy bear tea party on the front walk.

It took me a long time to process that my home was gone, along with all the memories inside it. He hadn’t even given me a chance to save a few mementos. No record collection or turntable. No paintings. No birthday cards or even one of the stuffed animals that Sasha had slept with every night.

I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. I felt as if my heart had been ripped out of my chest all over again. Somewhere in the darkness I’d nurtured a flicker of hope and now it was gone.

Just like they were gone.

Just like the pain had been gone until I tried to let light into my life.

I didn’t know how I made it back to the station for our weekly intern meeting with Noah. I didn’t remember walking back to the car, or driving through the city. I didn’t remember going to class or how I wound up in a chair in front of Noah’s desk.

“You’re early,” Noah said. “And you look like shit.”

“So do you.” His face was gray and the circles under his eyes were so dark it looked like he was wearing makeup.

“I have a reason. This station is my life and I’m not going to let it fail.”

“I have a reason, too.” My voice caught, broke. “My mother had a vinyl collection that included original pressings of The Black Album , Led Zeppelin , and Electric Ladyland and now it’s gone. Everything is gone.” It was a strange thing to blurt out with no context, but music filled the space when I didn’t have words.

Noah’s face creased in sympathy, and I knew he understood. He was the most intuitive person I’d ever met. “Rare vinyls, but not that hard to replace if you had, say, an inheritance in your pocket. If she’d had a copy of Wu-Tang Clan’s Once Upon a Time in Shaolin, that would have been something. Or even The White Album, not for the overrated musical genius but because it’s worth almost $1 million . Now, if you told me she’d had a copy of Tommy Johnson’s ‘Alcohol and Jake Blues,’ that would be a tragedy because the master tapes were destroyed.”

And just like that he pulled me back from the brink. “I can’t stand his yodel.”

Noah pointed a finger at me across this desk. “Then you, sir, cannot call yourself a musician. Get your ass in here tonight before your show and I’ll give you a Tommy Johnson education. I might even let you listen to this.” He held up a twelve-inch vinyl of Miles Davis’s Kind of Blue. “I picked it up for two grand from an old lady who only listened to it on Sundays.”

“Thanks, Noah.”

He gave me the briefest of nods. “Don’t thank me. Thank Miles and the father of the Mississippi Blues.”

I managed to get it together before Skye arrived with Siobhan and Chad. They brought their own chairs and squeezed between the boxes and piles of papers scattered across the room. I couldn’t look at Skye. She hadn’t done anything wrong, but I couldn’t handle what she’d triggered inside me. I’d put walls up around my past for a reason and I had to stop them from crumbling, or I’d crumble, too.

“I’ve read your updates about the volunteers and interns,” Noah said. “Everything looks on track except the broadcast portion of the internship. Where are we with that?”

“Chad has done a few sports shows,” Siobhan said. “Still waiting for Skye.”

“I’ve been doing more digging into my story about the empty buildings,” Skye said. “My journalism professor helped me file some formal information requests because the administration won’t give me access to their files. What I’ve got isn’t broadcast-ready yet. I’ve also been looking into an issue with the garbage and recycling on campus and Professor Stanton just agreed to let me conduct an investigation as my year-end project.”

“Garbage?” Noah didn’t seem very enthused about Skye’s project, but her eyes lit up at the question.

“The university is mixing the garbage and recycling. I’ve been watching the pickups around campus. Two weeks ago I thought I saw something suspicious going on between the truck driver and one of the building maintenance crew, but I wasn’t close enough to see what went down. My gut tells me there’s something there, but I don’t know what it is… yet.”

Noah folded his hands behind his head. Nothing about his expression had changed, and yet I sensed his disappointment. “Anything else in the pipeline?”

“I met some ballers in the bar the other week,” she said quickly. “I told them I was interested in any gossip about the sports teams. One of them came up to me in the gym the other day and said he might have something for me. I’m meeting him for coffee next week.”

My breath caught and I bolted up in my seat. “Who? Ethan?”

“No, it wasn’t Ethan.” Her forehead creased in a frown. “You don’t know him.”

“Why does this dude need coffee to spill the tea?” I folded my arms across my chest. “Why not just tell you in the gym where there are lots of people around?”

Skye gave an irritated sniff and folded her arms, too. “Maybe since he’s spilling tea about the team, he doesn’t want to do it where the team is practicing.”

Noah’s gaze slid from me to Skye and back to me. “I have faith in Skye. I’m sure she’ll find us a big story.” He coughed and then coughed again. I picked up his Bob Ross coffee cup so he could take a drink and realized it was empty. Only then did I realize his coffee pot was empty, too.

“I’ll get you some water,” I said, standing. “And I’ll fill the pot.”

Noah cleared his throat and waved me away. “Water is for wimps. And the machine is busted. I was going to buy a new one but they have too many fancy gadgets. I like things simple. I don’t need milk steamers, silver pods, or adjustable trays. I’ll go upstairs after we’re done and pick up a cup of the swill they’re trying to pass off as java.”

Noah without coffee was like my house without my mom. “I’ll run up and get it now.”

“We’re in the middle of a meeting.” Siobhan glared at me. “I don’t have time to sit here waiting for you to run errands.”

“Seriously, Shiv?” My voice rose as all the emotion I’d managed to push back down threatened to explode. “Everything you have here—your show, your friends, your job—it’s because of Noah. You can’t wait five minutes? Noah needs coffee like you need fucking air to breathe.”

“Dante? Are you okay?” Skye reached for me, and I bolted out of my seat.

“Don’t.” I didn’t need her sympathy. I didn’t need her soft voice and her worried frown. I needed her to be angry. I needed her to hate me as much as I hated myself. I needed her to leave me alone so I could go back to my world of ice where I didn’t to think or feel or remember.

“It’s cool.” Noah shrugged. “I’m not going to die because I missed my afternoon coffee.”

My ears were ringing, and I could barely see his face. Even if he didn’t need the coffee, I couldn’t stay here. Not with Skye in the room. Not with Noah looking so tired with a broken coffee pot and an empty cup on his desk. Everything just felt wrong.

“Haley is just getting off her shift,” Skye said, gently. “Why don’t I ask her to stop by with some coffee?” She smiled at Noah, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “I assume one tray will be enough?”

He gave her an appreciative nod. “Colombian. Black. And tell her to make sure it’s fresh or I’ll cancel her show.”

“Noah. Emergency.” Derek popped his head in the door. “Khavy isn’t going to make it for his show today and neither is Ryan. There’s some bug going around, and they both have it.”

Noah didn’t drop a beat. “Make a quick Kidcore playlist for the first half hour until Siobhan and I can find someone to sub in—Black Eyed Peas, Nickelback, Coldplay—anything safe sounding and radio friendly. Nothing with an edge or sense of danger. Lots of Imagine Dragons.”

“I thought you were trying to save the station, not tank it,” I said, channeling my pain in the language I knew best. “Imagine Dragons are tied with Florence and the Machine when it comes to churning out overly dramatic wannabe-epic tunes.”

“What are you talking about?” Skye looked up at me aghast. “Florence is one of the greatest voices of all time. Have you heard ‘South London’? Her songs make me cry because of the way she captures ordinary moments of life.”

“Fake arena-style pop tunes,” I muttered.

“What’s fake about it?”

“Everything. The structure, the sound, the drums. She can sing well, but I don’t feel the emotion. I thought you understood music.”

Skye winced at the blow but wouldn’t back down. “I thought you understood music, but clearly you’re just a hack.”

“Stop.” Noah dropped his feet and pointed from me to Skye. “That. Right there. We need that on the air.”

Skye shot him a puzzled glance. “Two people arguing about music?”

“Yes.” He jumped up. “Two people who know music, who understand it, having a lively discussion. It’s interesting. It’s engaging. Dante is obviously wrong because have you heard Ceremonials ? Great album.”

“See?” Skye smirked at me for all of two seconds before her face fell. “Wait. What? You want me to do a live? Have you forgotten my interview?”

“I don’t forget anything,” Noah said. “And the point of interning at a teaching station is to learn new skills. Dante will handle the board and run the show. You’ll just be there as a special argumentative guest who is going to get some on-air experience with a safety net.”

“I’m not argumentative,” Skye snapped. “I’m right.”

“We’ll argue about it later.” Noah fixed his gaze on me. “It’s time you let someone into your studio. It will be a learning opportunity for both of you.”

“And if I refuse?”

“I’ll cancel your show.” Noah nodded at Derek, who’d been following the conversation with interest. “Why are you standing here gawking? Get that Kidcore on while I stop these two from melting down. Siobhan, find someone to take the second slot. If you can’t, then Chad can talk sports.”

“Yesss.” Chad pumped his fist. “I brought in a mirror after my last show so I could watch myself the next time I was on-air. It’s practice for when I’m on TV.”

“I haven’t prepped,” Skye pointed out after Siobhan and Chad had gone.

“Just don’t mention Imagine Dragons and you’ll be fine.” I couldn’t keep the sarcasm from my voice.

“What’s with you today?” Skye turned on me. “Imagine Dragons might not put their best foot forward with their singles but the deep cuts are where it gets real. You clearly haven’t listened to ‘Uptight,’ or ‘Hopeless Opus.’”

“You’re prepped,” Noah said to her. “You can thank Dante later.”

Skye marched ahead of me to the studio, her back stiff, hands clenched by her sides. I could almost hear her thoughts. What if I mess up? What if I’m not good enough? What if…

Her anxiety was enough to pull me out of my own emotional crisis. “He won’t fire you,” I said. “He won’t take your scholarship away. You’re safe, Skye. And I’m right here. Nothing is going to go wrong. Trust me.”

She looked over her shoulder but her eyes were as cold as ice. “I trusted you until you started acting like a dick.”

I felt her anger like a knife through my heart, but it’s what I needed, what I wanted, what had to happen to drive her away.

“We need a name for our show,” I said after we’d taken our seats. “We can’t just go on and start talking.”

She sucked in a sharp breath and her eyes widened. “I thought this was a one-off to help Noah out and when everyone is back, he won’t need us again.”

“Then you still don’t understand how Noah works. He has no scruples when it comes to the station. He will ask, beg, and demand to get what he wants. If you open the door a crack, he’ll push right in. He needs more programming to fill the dead air and now he’s found it.”

“I can’t believe I walked right into his trap.” She twisted her hands in her lap. “I’m going to fall apart from the stress. Say something encouraging.”

“No one knows music like you do.” I forced a smile. “Except, of course, me.”

“That didn’t do it.”

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t push her away when she looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her up. I couldn’t stomach her pain even though five minutes ago that was exactly what I’d resolved to do.

“I’ve got you.” I checked over my shoulder to make sure the hallway was clear and then I pulled her in for a kiss.

My heart slowed. Heat rushed through my veins. She filled the emptiness with light and soothed my aching soul.

“Better now,” she whispered against my mouth. “Maybe you’re not such a dick after all.”

I forced myself to pull away and check the clock. “We have ninety seconds. What about that name?”

Skye twisted her lips to the side. “What about Sound Off? The Musical Divide? The Clash of the Chords? Or Rhythm and Discord?”

I looked at her with newfound appreciation. “You came up with all those ideas in ten seconds?”

“I like words.” She shrugged. “It’s who I am.”

“I like the Musical Divide.”

Skye laughed. “Of course you do.”

“What do you mean?” I put on her headphones before grabbing my own.

“You fail to appreciate the genius that is Imagine Dragons,” she said with a grin. “There will be no closing that divide.”

I put on my headphones and reached for the mic. “Buttercup, prepare to be schooled.”