Emergency Contact

21

Waking up in the cabin the next day feels strange. This place somehow feels foreign to me now, like its a different place completely. My room feels smaller, almost like its as vulnerable as I feel. Not to mention the fact that Vic and I are separated by only a wall. Before this was a comforting fact, but now it feels like a minefield. 

My stomach turns as I contemplate going downstairs as I usually do with Vic. Its Monday at 9am which usually means Vic and I would be writing by now, both of us side by side on the couch drinking our coffees, either Dawon's Creek or Vampire Diaries playing in the background as we make progress on the album.

 Not today though. I can faintly hear Vic in the kitchen downstairs, the sound of coffee mugs clinking together and the coffee machine dripping coffee. I close my eyes for a second and imagine I'm down there with him, but quickly I realize how different things would be now. 

The drive back from the airport last night was a quiet one. Vic had left our car at the airport, so last night we drove ourselves back which originally I thought would be great. I thought we'd talk about how nice it was to be back home, we'd laugh and be like we usually are, but instead it was tense and quiet. I was itching to get back to the cabin so we could put some space between one another, and I think Vic felt the same because he immediately went out back when we got home. I was half curious what he was doing outside, and the one time I peered out I saw him on the back porch couch, hunched over a pad of paper writing furiously. 

I decide to face my fears and head downstairs to see Vic. My heart pounds as I do, my chest feeling heavy. I hope Vic is less nervous than I am, because if not then the rest of our writing time is going to be very, very long.

As I enter the kitchen I see Vic leaning against the island with a cup of coffee in his hand, and right behind him is the coffee maker, my coffee right underneath it and full. At least he's still making me coffee.

"Hey." Vic says, his voice tense. He looks at me like he's unsure if he was even supposed to say anything, but I'm glad he spoke up first because I'm not sure if I would've.

"Hey" I reply, my voice matching his. He hands me my coffee, the cream and sugar already put in it just the way that I like it. "What time did you come back in last night?"

I had originally intended to stay up until Vic came back in, something I've gotten in the habit of doing, but I was so over tired from everything that I ended up passing out after being in bed for only 10 minutes.

"I didn't really notice. Probably around 4."

I glance at the clock right now, 9:12am. "You hardly slept."

"I couldn't really anyways." he says looking pointedly at me.

I avert my gaze, feeling uncomfortable now. I wonder how long it'll be like this. I feel like I can't breathe in this cabin.

"I know we're a bit off schedule, but do you want to write? I wrote some stuff last night."

I half expected Vic to keep his writing from me because of all the awkwardness so it catches me off guard a little when he asks me that. I don't pass up the chance, though, I never do.

"Yeah, lets go." I say.

Vic has the couch set up like we usually have it while we write, along with Dawsons Creek set up and ready to go. We're on the last season of it already which just shows truly how long we've been here already.

Wordlessly he hands me the pad of paper he was writing on yesterday and turns his attention to tuning his guitar as I look over what hes written down. 

Maybe I should go and buy a gun
Point it at the mirror make me run
Now part of me has holes in it, and part of me is whole
We've only begun
We're screaming in the belly of your car
This energy is flying me to Mars
Part of me is alien, and part of me is ghost
Falling through holes

I can't decide
Maybe its enough to get by for now but
I'm having the time of my life
Rotting in the sun, we're inside
The jaws of life

I live in the vacant and the dark spaces
In between beats of your heart
Hiding in the places that you thought were empty

There's notes and edits all around the paper, almost making it hard to decipher which lyrics are the ones he wants or the ones he's replaced, but we've been at this so long now that its easy for me to read through his process.

While reading I can't help but feel that this has to do with us over these past couple of days. Maybe I'm paranoid and reading into it too much...

"Its really good." I say to Vic once I've reread the lyrics for the third time. "Really, really good."

"No edits?" Vic asks in surprise. Usually I'll go a little hard on him, suggesting edits wasy too often, but not now. Not with these.

"Nope." I say, handing him his notepad back. "These are amazing, Vic, I mean it. One of your best yet."

He looks at me, his soft eyes peering into mine. Vic reaches out for me, his lips hovering right above mine.

I shake my head at him even though everything in me wants it too. "We can't."

"Why, Ivy?" he asks, his voice like gravel. 

"You know why."

"No, I don't actually. Tell me."

I scoot back on the couch to put some much needed distance between us. If I would've known that one night in San Diego would turn us into this thenI wouldn't have done it at all. I wouldn't have even flirted with the idea at all. Unfortunately its a bit too late now.

"Its not right." I say lamely, not wanting to admit the real issue.  "We're supposed to be writing together, not sleeping together."

"And you only realized that after we slept together?" he says, a tinge of annoyance in his voice. Vic gets up, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "I wish you would've had this epiphany beforehand."

And so do I.