9th Thing's 9th

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That night, I figure Julie needs some space. After the dance, Julie retires to her bedroom, locking the door, and the boys return to the studio, once again, sharing that single brain cell. I gravitate outside, feeling the slight breeze wash through Los Angeles and me. 

Small balls of blue fire twinkle in the inky sky, seemingly sinking farther behind the veil of blackness with each second. I reach out to touch them, only grabbing air because, one, I'm a ghost and, two, they're freaking stars. 

I return my eyes back to Luke's journal in my lap, once again flipped open to the song I was working on before we died and still have yet to gain the motivation to finish. I reread it over in my head, hating it more and more every time.

...There's light in the dark
You just need to find that spark...

I huff a breath and slouch my shoulders against the garage doors, the cold cement making my butt sore. I would be on the roof, but heights... No, thank you. I shift uncomfortably, causing Luke's songbook to fall out of my lap and close again on the floor. I groan in frustration and wince when I hit my head on the wall behind me.

How the heck can I still get hurt? I'm dead!

Anger and annoyance washes over me, and I rip out the page containing my notes, crumble it, and toss it across the concrete, the not-so round paper ball rolling until a shiny, black leather shoe steps on it.

Reggie bends down and picks it up, unfolding it and beginning to read. I panic and rush to my feet, racing over to him to snatch it back. But, him being taller than me, he holds it higher, easily reading it above his head as I jump beside him trying to grasp it.

A small, confused smile forms on his face. "Why would you throw this out? This is amazing!"

"Well, I hate it and it isn't going anywhere," I tell him, arms crossed. 

"Scream at the top of your lungs. Sing what needs to be sung because you only live once. This can really be something, Izzy." He looks almost hurt but quickly covers it when he keeps reading. "Why didn't you tell anyone about this?"

"Luke knew."

"OK, fine. Why didn't you tell me about this?" he asks rather upset, handing the crinkled piece of paper back to me. "And before you say, 'You didn't ask,' you know very well that I did. If you wanted my help, you know I'd do anything for you."

"Except show up at a school dance on time." He winces, and I hold my breath, instantly feeling guilty. He didn't need that. "I'm sorry, that was unnecessary."

"It's fine. I deserved it." He acts cool and brushes it off, but I know it isn't fine.

"No, you didn't. Look, it was something I was working on before we died. I just never brought myself to finish it." I sigh and slump back against the garage door, Reggie sliding in beside me. "I guess I've been trying to write a chorus for twenty-five years and still don't have anything to show for it."

"You can still use it," he insists, taking it back and flattening it against the concrete. "This is really good."

"No. The band is done. You guys seriously messed up. And before you even try anything, I'm still mad and Julie's still mad, at all of you."

"Izzy, you know why we had to go," he presses, facing me now, and a worried crease forms between his brows. "Yes, we stayed later than we should have, but time really got out of our hands. It all felt so quick. Alex called it a time warp. We're sorry, you know that."

"That doesn't defeat the fact that you ditched Julie," I told him. "Yes, I'm upset that after all you tried to do for me, you didn't show up. But that girl needs it way more than I do. You know I can't stay mad at you for long. I've pretty much already forgiven you, but that's besides the point."

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