In An Aeroplane Over The Sea

Paisley left that night, clinging to my side and refusing to let go of my hand. I told her I would wait for her, though I wasn’t sure what I was waiting for, exactly. Waiting for her to turn eighteen? To graduate college? She was rather… cryptic when she made me promise to ‘wait for her,’ but I felt better about everything after I did. Later she got on the train, waving to me with a forced smile on her face as she sat down with her two friends. I bit my lip, watching the train roll away, until I could no longer see the bright lights in the dark. Unable to control myself, I pulled out my phone and texted her. And that was how it all started.

I don’t think I turned on my phone once, and didn’t see a text message from Paisley. I can’t imagine how she didn’t turn on her phone and not see a text message from me. Though we were hundreds of miles apart, we really weren’t too far away from each other. Tour ended soon after, and before I knew it, I was back home in California. Though something wasn’t the same. I didn’t look at girls the same way I used to. I just compared them to Paisley – and they all fell short. Paisley went back to New York after spending the summer of her life in Amsterdam, and she asked me for my address, though I wasn’t sure why. But when I opened my mailbox a few days after returning home, I realized her motives. No girl had ever written me a letter before – especially a hand written one like Paisley did. I was in awe.

It really didn’t matter that we were thousands of miles away from each other because when you got down to it, after all the letters and the texts and the phone calls, we were just like any couple. Except we weren’t really a couple, were we? Paisley turned eighteen, and I sent her a package in the mail, consisting of a really nice necklace, a few little trinkets from out west, and some photos of my life out here. She didn’t stop thanking me once on the phone. Paisley was accepted into a university in Chicago a year later, with a partial scholarship. I sent her a check in the mail to help her pay for her textbooks, and after she threatened to send it back and I threatened to never speak to her again if she did, she nearly cried because she was so happy. Which, in turn, made me happy.

Still, it wasn’t enough for me. I wanted to be able to call her my girlfriend, but I didn’t know how. All of my friends had their own methods: Rian never had to, Jack never bothered, and Alex… Alex usually wrote a song about.

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“So are you guys all ready?” The interviewer asked as she sat down in her chair next to the sofa the four of us were sitting on. My mind snapped back to reality, as opposed to where it had been moments ago: rereading the letter from Paisley I had received in the mail. We all nodded, and she gave the signal to a person behind the camera. Though we weren’t live, there was something just as stressful about it. “We’re here today with Alex, Jack, Zack and Rian from All Time Low, and they’ve just released their latest studio album. So be honest, was making this album any different than making your others?”

And from then on, I just let the others do the talking. I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts. I wondered if Paisley had listened to the new album yet, I wondered if she even had the time. Who was I kidding? She had the time. She always made the time for me, no matter how stressed about being in college she was, or how exhausted she was feeling. She always remembered to pick up the phone when I called, or answer one of my texts. I wondered what she thought about the sixth track on the album. I wondered what she thought about “Paisley”.

All the fans on myspace, they left her alone after a while. She used the myspace Jack made her for a year or so, though she much preferred to talk to me on the phone. And then we released the new album, and that meant unveiling the song “Paisley” to our fans. Alex wrote all the songs on the album, but not that one. I wrote that one. But I didn’t want anyone to know, with the exception of Paisley and the guys. In the album booklet, it says that Alex wrote all the songs, and I was fine with it. Alex wanted to give me credit for my lyrics, though I wouldn’t hear of it. But all the fans on myspace, they thought Alex wrote it for Paisley. They went nuts.

And Paisley deleted her myspace.

Jack was really upset with her, but she just laughed. Though I could tell the entire experience was a bit unnerving to her, and frankly I didn’t blame her. I tried to call her after she deleted her myspace, but she didn’t respond. I called nearly twenty times that day, but she didn’t answer once. That was the first time she hadn’t answered when I called. Finally two days afterwards, she answered, but she didn’t sound completely… there. Eventually she went back to normal, but I didn’t press the subject. I was more than content with texting and talking with Paisley, and if that made her the most comfortable, than that was all the better.

“So what’s the deal with the song ‘Paisley,’ guys?” The interviewer asked, and I snapped back quickly to reality. In all of our other interviews, they never asked about that song. It wasn’t a single, and it wasn’t even previewed on our band myspace. It was just… there. It was just there for Paisley. It was her song.

“There’s a lot of talk going on about that song,” Rian began, and Alex glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “And –“

“And it’s about a girl,” I piped in quickly, shocking not only the guys around me, but even myself. “It’s about a girl that I’m… close with.”

The interviewer’s eyebrow cocked up in both interest and excitement. “Was it just a coincidence that this song had the same name as a girl on myspace, or…”

“No,” I responded calmly, “it’s not a coincidence.” I paused, before continuing, “I just wanted to give her something that shows that I’m thinking of her. ‘Cause we don’t see each other very often, and stuff.” Well, at least I wasn’t completely lying. By ‘we don’t see each other very often’ I really meant ‘I haven’t seen her since Germany’.

“Aw,” cooed the woman, and while I smiled at her reaction, on the inside I was rolling my eyes. I didn’t think it was cute. I thought it was pathetic. Here was a girl who I absolutely adored, yet I couldn’t find the courage to go and find her in real life. But there was something about Paisley, something strange.

When she promised to come to a show in Germany, I just knew she would come to our first one in Berlin. And when she didn’t come to that one, I hoped she would come to the second one. And when she didn’t come to that concert, I had lost all faith with her coming to our last show. But she was there.

And when I knew that she would kiss me at the end of the plane ride, she didn’t. So then I hoped that she would kiss me when she first saw me at the concert, but she didn’t. And did I expect her to kiss me at the end of the night? No. Not at all.

To do anything with Paisley, you had to loose all faith that it would happen. She had to find you. She had to kiss you. It was a cycle: knowing, hoping, and then loosing all possible faith. It was a completely exhausting process.

I couldn’t just run after her. It didn’t work like that. Yet a small part of me wanted to believe that I was just scared. Why? I don’t know. I just was. I had never felt this way about a girl before. I wanted to get to know her on a different level – I didn’t just want to sleep with her. “That’s really sweet,” the interviewer said, and I forced a smile on my face. The questions switched back to more predictable topics, and I did was I always did: stay silent.

There were a lot of things about Paisley that terrified me. Even though she was already many months passed her eighteenth birthday, she was still that young and naïve seventeen-year-old girl who I made out with in Frankfurt. She was unpredictable, and she had her whole life ahead of her. I spoke to her one week, and she wanted to be a journalist. Then I spoke to her the next week, and she wanted to be an engineer. I couldn’t figure out how I would fit into her life, yet I could easily see her fitting into mine. We were like a puzzle that fit together, but didn’t make out a clear image. Or something like that.

About twenty minutes later the interview began to wrap up, and eventually the women gave the signal to stop taping. “Thanks so much guys,” she said when the cameras had been turned off. “I think we got a lot of great stuff.” We all took our turn shaking her hand, before the four of us began walking off toward the door. I shoved my hands in my pockets, following Jack out into the warm outside air.

“I think we did really good,” Rian said, leaning against the brick building.

“That was a lot more enjoyable than the last time we interviewed with her,” commented Alex, causing Jack and Rian to begin to chuckle. I stifled a laugh, trying to remember the last time we interviewed with her. What made it so funny? I could barely recall what happened. I felt my phone vibrate softly, digging into my jean pocket with excitement as I flipped it open.

To: Zack

how did the interview go?

With lightening fast touches I responded almost immediately, while the guys rambled on about some inside joke I wondered if I was ever even a part of. Did they get a new bassist for that interview, or something?

To: Paisley

really well, i think. i couldnt really pay attention, though

“Will you quit texting her?” Rian snapped with a small grin on his face.

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” I mumbled, my thumbs scanning over the letters and numbers of my phone. “I haven’t seen her since tour.”

To: Zack

how come? i thought you said you liked interviews?

“Because a plane ticket out to Chicago would be so expensive!” Cried Alex sarcastically. “How would you ever feed yourself afterwards? How would you survive with no money left?”

“Shut the fuck up,” I responded with a cheeky grin.

To: Paisley

idk, it wasnt too bad. im just kind of tired, i guess

“Seriously, though,” began Jack, and I glanced up. “Why don’t you just fly out and surprise her? It’s not like she’s going to refuse to see you, or something.”

I just shrugged. “I don’t know. What if she’s too busy?”

To: Zack

aw, im sorry. do you want to talk on the phone tomorrow morning instead of tonight? you should probably get some sleep.

“Yeah, like she’d ever be too busy to see you,” scoffed Alex.

To: Paisley

no, its okay. i know you have class tomorrow morning anyway. besides, our night time phone calls are traditional. we cant break those!

“Well, for now, I’m okay with just texting her and talking to her on the phone,” I reasoned with a sigh, though I knew I was lying through my teeth.

“Man up!” Exclaimed Jack with a laugh, pushing me with a bit more force than I guess he intended to do. On any given day, Jack wouldn’t have stood a chance if he tried to push me. He probably would have just stumbled backwards and fallen on his ass. But I guess today, what with my current state of mind and a perfect alignment of the planets (that’s just how lucky he was), I stumbled forward. As if it was all in slow motion, I watched my phone bobble from one hand to another, until it landed on the ground with a clank. I thought that phones were supposed to have a bit more strength in them to survive a fall from only a few feet up, but I was wrong. Sure, my phone was an old flip phone that I had refused to trade in after my senior year of high school, but that didn’t mean the screen had to snap off from the keypad. I stared at the phone in disbelief, my mouth hanging open. A few wires poked up from the base, ensuring me that my phone was done for.

“Looks like you’re going to Chicago,” Rian said with a chuckle, slapping my shoulder. I blinked a couple of times, trying to rationalize what had just happened. I couldn’t leave Paisley hanging on a word like that; what if she thought I had ditched her for our phone call? What if she never spoke to me again? As I regained my breathing and composer, I turned towards Jack.

“It’s your choice,” I began slowly, shoving my hands in my pocket. “You can either pay for my phone, or for a plane ticket to Illinois.”

Jack grinned from ear to ear. “The ticket is on me, man.”