Cal Jackson's new life as a rockstar fails to account for one thing: the existence of the girl he loves.
*****
"What are you thinking about?" she asks.
"A song," I say. "A new song."
I stare at the ocean as I sing the song that I wrote, something th...
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Tonight's shift has been okay for me, so far. There's nothing unexpected popping up like yesterday, and everything has been going well. The customers are good too, in fact, one of them is very considerate -- an old lady having dinner with her granddaughter excuses my mistake when I bring her the wrong order.
I can't concentrate. My heart always thuds loudly every time someone opens the door, as if I would see Cal coming into the restaurant again.
This is very unhealthy, Mia. You have to get him out of your head.
When I finally finish my shift and step out of the restaurant, the night air greets me again. I inhale deeply, hugging my waist. I've thought that my sweater would keep me warm, but when the wind blows, chills still run through my body.
I'm continuing my steps along the pavement when a black SUV stops right beside me, causing me to halt.
A frown touches my lips when the owner opens the door of the second row. I squint, wondering who it is. When the stranger finally comes into view, my heart almost stops.
It's Cal.
My entire body automatically freezes. I can't move.
"Amelia," he calls, and blood rushes to every vein in my body as I dwell on the fact that he's speaking to me.
Cal is talking to me. I'm possibly dreaming.
"Would you get into the car? I need to talk."
I'm still stunned, but it doesn't look like he's joking. He's still watching me, waiting for my response. The reality finally hits me, and I abruptly look around, wondering if people notice.
"Don't worry," Cal says. "They haven't seen me in this one before. The plate number is different."
His sentence assures me that it would be safe enough to get in without having to worry about paparazzi or reporters lurking around. I don't want to trouble him if anyone ever sees us.
I swallow, trying to calm my heartbeat. Then I step into the second row of the SUV, just as Cal told me to. Once I'm inside, the door closes, and the driver resumes the journey. Cal presses a button that rolls the partition up so that it would give us privacy.
The way my heart thumping wildly against my ribcage is very concerning. My eyes scan his features again to make sure that it's really him I'm seeing, and when he turns his head to look at me again, my breath hitches. Even though it's quite dark here inside the car, being this close to him again is overwhelming.
But then, the way he called me just now feels like a slap on my face.
Amelia. Not Amy.
"You don't drive here in New York?" he asks.
It takes a few seconds for me before I can find my voice. I shake my head slightly. "I don't have a car anymore." My voice is small as I look down, holding my sweaty hands on my lap.
Now that we finally talk again, so many things are clogged up in my mind. It's crazy that I have so many things to say, but I can't utter any of them.
"How..." I falter. "How did you know that I was walking home?" Those words escape from my mouth instead.
"I noticed the change of shift yesterday, so I believe that you finish your work around this hour."
Silence falls again, and I wonder if he finds it hard to talk too. Two years have passed since that incident.
We didn't end it well. I didn't end it well.
"Why do you work in that restaurant?" Another question leaves his lips.
Right. He must be wondering why I'm doing a part-time job. Back then in Florida, I'd never had any problem with money and my parents have always been able to afford me anything.
Things changed, Cal. A lot of things have changed. Now, Mom and I are struggling to make a living.
"I need," I pause, feeling a lump in my throat as I direct my eyes to anywhere but him. "I need it to top up the loans for college, and to support my living cost."
When I brace myself to look at him again, he has a frown on his lips, probably wondering why it doesn't match with my last situation.
Since this is the topic I would very much like to escape, I decide to change it, "How are you doing now, Cal? Have you been well?" I feel the urge to shut my eyes in frustration, because that sounds stupid.
Of course, he's doing well now, Mia. He's a superstar. Duh.
"How's everything?" I keep going, because these words just keep coming out of my mouth. My heart can't contain it all. "How's Jasmine?"
All this time, I've been wondering about these things. Although he's now very successful and famous, I want to know how he's been.
Excruciating silence creeps in again, and my heart sinks. I wonder whether we should be doing this or not. Things are hella awkward between us now.
"That's all?" Cal finally speaks again, and his voice is low, sending shivers down my spine.
My gaze darts on his side view as he looks toward the front, his expression stoic.
"Is that all you want to say to me?" he asks, and my heart skips a beat.
The atmosphere has become even tenser. I swallow, not knowing what to do. I'm not ready to face him again so suddenly. I haven't prepared my heart for this. But now, it's happening, and I have to face it.
"Don't worry, Amelia," Cal says, still with a voice that seems so far away even though he's right here next to me, so different from the way he spoke to me all those years ago. "We have the whole night to talk about that." My brain is still trying to absorb what he just said when he adds, "Do you want to come over to my place?"
I can feel goosebumps appear on my skin. The idea of spending the night with him after all that has happened, even though it's just talking, seems impossible.
But I don't feel like waking up from this dream soon. I don't want to wake up.
