Sunset Memories

Chapter 21 - Songwriting

The rest of February passed into March, with me growing another inch on my spine and Danielle getting a quick cold. The snow was starting to melt, and the mornings were sun-filled and wet. The ice on Lake Tegel was disintegrating into small patches, but I knew it was still freezing in the water. Danielle's fractured wrist became un-fractured, and my injuries from Simon slowly faded away. 

     One day at school, Max, Hanna, Astrid, Danielle, and I watched the jam sessions. A girl was playing Adele's Someone Like You on the piano and her friend was singing the lyrics to it in a high voice. 

     ''You guys still going to do a session?'' Hanna asked us when the girls had finished. 

     I looked at Danielle. 

     ''Maybe,'' she said. ''Should we do Angels?'' 

     Shrugging, I said, ''Maybe. Or we could write our own songs.''

     ''That'd be cool,'' said Astrid. 

     ''Danielle and The Guitar Player,'' Max recited. 

     I gave a short laugh and Danielle grinned at me. 

     The next day, Friday, was a Pro-D Day, where students got the day off and teachers did a course. Danielle and I stayed at home while Mom was at a writer's meeting and Curt was playing soccer with his friends. Alexander was working out in the attic. 

     I went and grabbed my guitar, then I tuned it when I got back. Danielle was watching The Big Bang Theory and eating crackers. I plucked the strings softly, righting the out-of-tune ones and finally strumming a beautiful G chord that filled the air. Danielle looked at me, and then my guitar, and turned off the TV. 

     ''We still in for that songwriting thing?'' she asked. 

     ''Sure,'' I answered. ''What do you want to write it about?''

     She stood up and took a seat beside me on the couch. ''I think these past few months have sort of been like a song,'' she told me. 

     These past few months. How long had she been here for now? Eight months. And only three remaining before she left me in pain and memories forever. 

     ''Okay.'' I pulled one of my notebooks out from my backpack and scribbled down Song written by Danielle Thomas and Luca Braun. 

     ''Let's add some sunsets in it, too,'' she said. 

     I drew a tiny rough sketch of a sunset beside the words. ''Now what?''

     She bit her lip nervously. Then she said, slowly and quietly, ''I've been waiting for something untouched to come.''

     I wrote that down. She added, ''Something that would stay together as one.'' I wrote that, too.

     ''A new book on my shelf,'' I improvised. ''A story 'bout you.''

     Danielle clung on to my words. ''Just waiting to reveal the view.''  

     That was only the first verse.  

     ''Chorus,'' I said. ''Um . . . how about this: I've been waiting for this time to come, something that would make my life not as rough.'' 

     ''That's good,'' she told me, ''but I don't like the rough in it. It's too . . .''

     I strummed an A minor chord. ''. . . Rough,'' I finished. 

     She gave me a smile. ''Yeah. We need something nicer.'' She racked her brains, searching for a word.