He lifts his hand, slowly tracing his fingers up her arm until they reach her face leaving goosebumps and a warm trail behind. Then he moves just his pinky finger across her cheekbone, dragging along until he pulls the stray strands of hair behind h...
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May 29th 2010
"You've what?"
"Changed the name of the band."
Comes the reply over the phone, "Why?"
Adam sighs on the other end, "Not sure, think Matty's going through an existential crisis again."
She snorts, "When is he not?"
She twirls the pen in her hand as she leans back, and lifts her feet to rest on her desk, "What's the name?"
"Uh, 19- sorry, the 1975."
She starts laughing, holding a hand to her mouth to hold it back, but the smile can be seen from miles away.
"He's very specific about the."
"Yeah?"
Adam hums, "Is it some kind of inside joke?" He asks, "Your tattoos? I don't get it, he won't tell anyone."
"Our little secret, Ads."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'm just glad I don't have to describe to girls why we're called Drive Like I Do, anymore."
"What girls?" She teases and she hears him laugh sarcastically on the other end.
It's silent for a few moments, and she picks at a string on her cardigan, "We've got another gig lined up."
"Really?"
"Yeah, a few, you gonna come up soon?"
She sighs, "I don't know, Ads, maybe."
"Matty uh, he bought your book yesterday. Was pissed I got a free one and he didn't."
She scoffs, "Didn't want him stealing my stuff again."
Adam laughs too, "It's great, Tommie, really. You're an amazing writer, you should do something with that."
"Maybe."
"No, you should." He says firmly.
She glances to the side, the little book sitting there staring at her, 75 pages of her own work. Her writing, her words, her poetry.
"Has he, uh, has he read it?"
"About a hundred times."
"Really?"
Adam hums, "We all have. It's good, Tommie." He hesitates a second, then adds, "Song worthy, band worthy."
"I'm not-"
"Yeah, I know. Thought I'd try again."
She wants to get off topic now, and talk about something other than her work. The thought of Matty reading it, understanding it, makes a red blush rise up her neck and across her cheeks.
"Did you hear what Nan and Granch are doing?"
"No." She can imagine his furrowed brows and confused tilted head, one that makes him look so much like their grandfather.
