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To my surprise, Ash’s face lit up beside me on the basement couch.
“Dude, yeah. Of course. This is your house, and I’ve wanted to hear you play since you told me you’re self-taught.” His face stretched into a lopsided smile, and a weird flutter motioned in my stomach.
“Are you ever going to let me hear you sing?” I arched an eyebrow at him.
Even at the mention of singing, he paled, and his boyish grin dissipated into something closed off. He shook his head. “Not yet. Maybe sometime soon?”
I squeezed his shoulder. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Over the next hour and a half, I beat on the drums, and damn, it felt good to release the tension that had gathered in between my shoulder blades over the last month. Not because of Ash, but because of the impending break up, school, my shitty ass job—it all added up after a while. I was a little rusty after not playing for a few weeks, so I warmed up with some simple beats first. Then, I moved on to an easier song that I always enjoyed playing, “Another One Bites the Dust” by Queen. After I felt nice and warm, and the drumsticks felt like an extended part of my own body, I played some of my own beats. I experimented with pieces of my own creation. Many times, I had to stop and start over or tweak a few things, then start over again.
Ash watched me from where he sat perched on the edge of the couch’s arm the entire time.
After a long burst of non-stop drumming, I was drenched in sweat, and my arms throbbed. I stood up and stretched my arms above my head, then walked over to Ash as I wiped at my brow and ripped off my t-shirt. I felt like I’d spent way too long in a sauna, and the basement had shitty AC, which didn’t help.
I chugged an entire bottle of water and then slumped down on the couch next to him.
There was an intensity to the way his hazel eyes took me in, and that made me squirm a little. “What? You okay?” I asked. My heart was beating hard from the energy I exerted, but now my nerves made it worse. Did Ash think I sucked?
“You’re amazing,” Ash stated, matter-of-fact. “You taught yourself all of that?”
I wasn’t expecting a compliment. My breath caught in the back of my throat, and my stupid heart picked up even more. All I could do was nod.
“You’re fucking brilliant,” Ash said. His face broke out in the most gorgeous smile. Probably the most genuine I’d seen on his face since the night we’d met.
“You think so?” Ash’s comment tugged at something deep inside of me, hidden somewhere in my core.
He nodded viciously. “Are you going to play more?”
I shrugged and tried to remain cool, like his comment didn’t send my stomach into a nervous tidal wave.
“I’m a little wiped from not practicing in a while,” I said.
“Well, you should definitely practice more. A lot more. Were those last few beats your own?”
His perception of me and my music was almost unbelievable. I nodded again. “Just a few things I’m playing around with right now.”
Ash shook his head. “It’s more than just playing around with a drumset. You’re talented, Drew.”
I didn’t comment, but I didn’t look away from him, either. He leaned into me a little, and I couldn’t help but stare at the long, lush lashes that lined his eyes.
“You make me want to sing,” he said with the sound of slight embarrassment in his voice. “That’s such a cheesy thing to say. Jesus.” Ash ran a hand through his cropped hair and licked his lips. “I just mean—you give me hope, you know? You could easily be on stage, Drew. Easily.”
I couldn’t breathe. My mind whirled at his words. “I bet you could be, too,” I said quietly. “Have you written any songs?”
He pulled back from where we were huddled together. His gaze dropped from mine to his hands in his lap. Then, he nodded.
“I’ve written songs. But they don’t have a tune, you know? I don’t play any instruments.” Ash laughed a little coldly. “So, they’re almost like poems.”
I shrugged. “That’s a good place to start, don’t you think?”
We sat in silence for so long that I thought the conversation was over, that he’d retreat back into himself like I was used to him doing.
And then, the most beautiful fucking thing happened.
I was about to get up to go to the bathroom, just to have something to do other than sit with him in the awkward silence because I was worried he would hear the loud rhythm of my heart pounding through the still air. But Ash opened his mouth and began to sing.
The beginning of Everclear’s song “Portland Rain” was so quiet, I could barely hear him, but as he continued to sing, he gained confidence with each passing word of the lyrics. Ash kept his eyes locked down at his hands as he sang but didn’t stop. Eventually, he looked up.
