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Oops.

Did she come to Dogwood this weekend to watch the concert? Now that I think of it, it’s strange that Amelia would choose this weekend for an interview. Wasn’t the hotel packed with people who came for the festival?

“I don’t dislike her,” I say, carefully, in case she is a hardcore Georgina fan. I didn’t mean to offend her. “It’s just that this song has been on repeat everywhere in Dogwood for three months. I’m just a little tired of it.”

“But otherwise, you like her songs?” there’s a small smile on her lips like she might be teasing me, but there’s also an intensity in her eyes that lets me know that it’s not just a joke.

I don’t want to offend her, but I’m also not going to lie to her. “I don’t really care for her one way or the other.”

“Why not?”

I raise my hands out. I’ve never been asked to analyze my feelings over Georgina before. “I don’t know. Almost all of her songs are complaining about heartbreak.”

She takes a slow sip of her tea, observing me. “And you’ve never been heartbroken, so you can’t relate.”

“I’ve been heartbroken.” I don’t want to talk about it, but I’ve been heartbroken. Once.

“Then what’s the problem?”

I want to change the subject, but she’s looking at me so intently I know there’s no getting out of this.

“To be honest, I don’t think Georgina has been heartbroken. She probably has someone writing all her songs.”

Nina makes a sound in her throat, and you’d think I’d insulted her mother. “She does not. Georgina writes all of her own songs. And she means every word she says.”

I laugh. This is getting so ridiculous. Here I was excited to get to know Nina, instead I’m having an argument over Georgina. Someone for whom I could not care less.

“It’s just not my type of music, okay?”

“No. That’s not the point. Sure, you’re allowed to say you don’t like the music, but you can’t say that she’s a liar, or that the words don’t speak to you. Listen.”

She pulls out her phone and puts on a different Georgina song.

With a sigh, I turn off the radio.

“I’ve heard this song before.”

“But this time listen to the words.”

I do.

Georgina sings about being broken up with. She sings about the shame she felt. She sings about the confusing emotion of wanting the person back, while simultaneously knowing that they’re not right for you. She sings about never wanting to feel that pain again. She sings about wanting to move on but knowing that she’ll never be that innocent or open with someone else again.

It hits me right in the heart. And I can’t help but feel like Nina is the one singing the words to me, so that while I’m lost in the painful memories that I’ve tried so hard to bury, I also want to comfort her and tell her it will all be alright.

The song ends.

She breaks the silence first. “Have you felt that kind of heartbreak?”

“Yes. You?”

“Yeah.” She plays with her cup, lost in thought. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring you down. Do you like the song?”

“It’s alright,” I concede.

Her face lights up. “Alright like she’s a talented artist who moved your soul and brought back unpleasant memories for you that you’d rather ignore?”

Pretty much. “I don’t like dwelling on the past. It’s gone. And I’d rather just move on.”