Drumbeats into My Heart

64. Jordi Listens

I carefully unwind the wires from around the MP3 player, setting the earbuds in my lap and power cord on my desk. This had been in Seth's hands today. When had he dropped it into my tip jar? Why didn't he say anything?

Then again, if I'm being realistic, I'm not sure what my reaction would have been. Though I've been missing him, actually seeing him again might stir up the humiliation he caused. Maybe it's a good thing he didn't.

I rotate the unassuming little player in my hands, not sure what to make of it. I'm intensely curious what's on it, but I'm also afraid it might be a barrage of reprimands, with him complaining about what a bad person I am and how unfair I'm being to him. Or worse, it could be a list of reasons why he's right and I should go seek help for a condition I may or may not have.

Okay, yes, he was actually right about that, but I don't need my wrongness rubbed in my face. Who wants to hear something like that? Who wants to be with someone who does that?

I place it carefully on my desk. Sigh at it.

It gives away nothing. Just sits there.

I can't stand this anymore. I have to find out what's on this thing.

I stick the earbuds into my ears. Locating the tiny power button, I press it and watch the small screen come to life. A playlist appears. It's numbered, with the very first entry titled, "Play this first."

So I do.

Seth's voice filters into my ears. "Hi Jordi. I know I'm not your favorite person in the world right now, but I want to explain why I did what I did. Well, try to, anyway. Each time I record something, it sounds like some lame excuse, and I have to delete it and try again. In the end, all I can offer you is this: I'm just... weird. I cared so much about school—probably because my mom does—that I ended up being a jerk about it. I wanted so much to help you that I didn't even consider your feelings about it. I know now that I embarrassed you. And for that, I'm sorry. You deserve better."

His voice is like warm butter, coaxing its way through my brain. When I close my eyes, it's like he's in the room with me, speaking to me, following my movements with those dark, intense eyes.

"I've filled this player with all my favorites. This next song I've played over and over lately because... it kind of reflects how I've been feeling. Adrift. Figuring things out. Just listen to it. You'll see."

The recording ends, and the second track begins playing. I glance at the display, which reads Tiësto – Perception.

The song's atmospheric opening is unlike anything I've ever heard.

When it finishes, I play it again.

I love this song. Love the voice, the melodies, the nudging toward hope. It gives me goosebumps.

I rub my arms and stop the player. Seth, who never seems all that great at voicing his feelings, has found the perfect medium to communicate with me. It's uncanny, like we're on the same wavelength somehow, linking emotions to music.

I resume playback, continuing on to track three.

Seth is talking again. "I've played this next song for you before, but... it's interesting. Before I met you, I already liked this song. But afterward... it has new meaning for me now. In particular, this line: feels like you're beating, beating the drumbeats into my heart. I'm going to risk sounding cheesy, but that's okay, because I don't have to face you when I say this. You put the love of drumming into my heart, Jordi. Even if you never want to see me again, I still want to thank you for that."

Track four begins to play, and I recognize the familiar opening beats of "Come Fly Away," that song he had emailed to me before.

The rest of the playlist goes on like this. His voice comes on, he explains the significance of the song, and then the song plays.

I can't stop listening. I don't pay attention the random car alarm blaring outside. I don't notice when Dad gets home from work and starts puttering in the kitchen. I don't even realize when he pokes his head into my room to say something.

"Jordi!"

My eyes fly open and I yank out an earbud.

"I hope your hearing isn't going." He glances at the player in my hand. "Where'd you get that?"

"A friend."

He frowns a little my uncharacteristically clipped tone.

"Did you need something, Dad?"

"I just wanted to see if you ate dinner yet."

"Um, I'm not hungry."

His frown deepens. "Is everything okay?"

An impatient huff escapes me. "I'm fine. I'm just... in the middle of something."

"All right." He glances again at the little black player before withdrawing. "I'll have something ready for you if you change your mind."

"Thanks." I briefly regret the dismissive tone I use on him, but I can't help it. Seth is baring his soul to me. I have to listen. Need to.

I hit the rewind button and start the track over again.

I don't want to miss a single word.

Hey y'all, I just wanted to remind you to—who shushed me?? Oh. Right. Sorry, Jordi. *quietly slides Vote button into view*