I'll Love You Out Loud
I'll Love You Out Loud
I get up from the ground that I was laying on a moment before. Just laying in the grass, drunk, watching the clouds go by. I must’ve fallen asleep, because now it’s twilight. I walk over to this huge tree, just staring at it. It’s an oak tree, I think. It has to be at least thirty feet high, and even the small branches are bigger then my waist. I love trees. I begin to climb up, and up, and up, till I’m twenty feet over head. And then I just sit there, up high, and do nothing. But soon, nothing becomes boring, so I think of something I could do.
Idea 1: jump to my death.
Idea 2: sing that stupid song that’s stuck in my fucking head in hopes to get it out.
Idea 3: attempt to balance up high on one foot
Idea 4: …I’m no good at coming up with ideas.
“Am I loud and clear, or am I breaking up. An I still your charm, or am I just as rough. Are we getting closer or are we, just getting more lost. I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours first. Let’s compare scars, I’ll tell you whose is worse. Let’s unwrite these pages and replace them with the wrong words…”
I jump at the sound of a guitar strumming the chords that go along with the song. I look around, but I don’t see anyone.
“It’s Kadebaby!” A man falls out of nowhere and lands perfectly on a branch a few feet away. I look a little more critical, and I realize it’s the guy from the gas station. Embarrassed, I look the other way, and hope he will catch the drift. He doesn’t.
“You have a cool voice.” he tells me. I feel my face get hot and mumble a thank you, turning to lower
myself down. When I’m a few feet from the ground, a dark yet colorful blur falls past me and lands with a thud. I look down and see it’s him, guitar and all. I get to the ground quickly and turn to walk the other direction. I feel a jerk as he grabs my arm, pulling me backwards.
“Let’s go get a bite to eat, I‘ll grab.”
My struggle to get away stops. I haven’t eaten in 3 days. If he tries to kidnap me, well, I’m damned anyway. I let him lead me towards a beat up old blue Honda accord. He kicks the trunk, and it pops open. Sticks his guitar in, and opens the passenger’s door for me. “After you, m’lady.” he grins cheekily. I blink at him, and slowly get in. He shuts the door and jogs over to his side and gets in. He puts the key in the ignition and we speed off.
“We don’t need to hear that,” he mumbles as her switches Cds. “Much better.” He smiles as a familiar song floats up and out of the speakers. It swirls in my ears and throttles my heart. I love this song. I find myself singing the first few words below my breath so he can’t hear. “I’m gonna ride this plane, out of your life again. I wish that I could stay, but you argue…”
The words and chords blended perfectly together fill me up and I don’t realize until the guy look over at me and smiles, that I’m belting out the song. I quickly stop, looking down and wringing my hands, my face turning different shades of red. “Why’d you stop?” he asks.
“Because,” I shrug, “just..because.”
“Because why?” he presses on as he turns a corner. I just shake my head and stare out the window until we get to a small diner. Again, he opens my door for me and we go inside, the warmth hitting us like a sack of bricks. An older woman greets us and I follow him into a booth. He orders cheese burgers for both us and then turns back to me. “So,” he begins, clasping his hands together and getting this mock serious face so he kinds resembles Dr. Phil, “What is your name?”
I sigh, “You know, I know I owe you at least that, for buying my dinner, but honestly, why are you buying me dinner. You’re not going to get anything out of it, and I don’t have any money to pay you back or anything. So, there’s no point to any of this.”
He nods his head, pondering this, “I understand this,” he says jokingly serious, “but, honestly,” he’s mocking me. “I think you seem to be a really cool person, and-”
“But that’s the thing.” I say, “You don’t know me. You don’t know me at all. You just picked me up off the street and offered to buy me dinner.”
“I know that. But, how do most friendships work? They have to start somewhere. Usually they meet, and one will offer something, like a phone number of buying dinner in this case.” he gestures to the food being placed on the table and the waitress walking away. “So,” he starts up again, eating a French fry before looking up at me through his eyelashes and asking quietly, “what is your name?”
“Liv,” I shift uncomfortably, “LeNoir.”
He smiles, “It is my pleasure to meet you Miss Liv LeNoir.” I look down at my food and pick up the burger, before taking a bite of it and chewing and swallowing. Wow. I didn’t notice how hungry I was. I repeat the process until my plate is empty.
I look over and he just finishing up, too. He wipes his mouth and looks up, smiling. What’s up with this guy smiling so much?
“So where are you from?”
“England.”
“Ah, a Brit.” he leans forward, “So why are you here in America?”
“Um…” I look down at my hands in my lap. I really really reallyreallyreallyreally do not want to voice where I’ve been to this man. Bloody hell, I don’t even know his name. “I’d, really, rather,,not, um-”
“It’s alright.” he says, getting up and tossing a crumpled bills onto the table top. “Let’s get outta here.”
I trail behind him and he holds the door for me, again. This isn’t fucking olden days. I can take care of myself.
He gets in the drivers seat and starts the car. “Where are we going?” he looks over at me.
“Well,” I shrug, “I don’t know. Home, I guess?”
He smiles. “Okay. Where?”
“Um,” I look for a street sign, “turn here.”
I guide him through the streets of suburbia until we pull up in front of my 3 story run down brick house. Vines and weeds slowly eating the whole thing. I turn to open the door, but he pulls me back. And just looks at me. Looking past me face, past my eyes, like he’s in my brain or something.
“What?” I ask softly.
“Will..no, never mind.” he shakes his head. I just blink at him and turn to open the door again. But then I look up at the house, and I see a group of men. One, a huge somewhat fat man with ripped jeans and a dirty faded shirt and a burly beard sees the car and gets up, saying something to the others in a deep, slurred voice, pointing at me. “Do you know those people?” the guy whose name I still don’t know asks. I shake my head and swallow something in my throat as the huge man comes closer. I bite my lip, “Um..”
Suddenly he’s right next to us, right outside my window, banging on the glass. “Hey, are you Ashlee?” he asks. He knows my alias. Dan must have set this up and not have told me.
“I thought your name was Liv.”
“It is.”
“Well then who-” we both stop and look to see that’s he’s hitting the car door repeatedly . “Open the fuggin door!” he hollers, I look at the boy whose car I’m in, panic stricken, and we speeds off, leaving the man in the dark of night.
“So, um,” he starts, “Do you know those people?”
“No, I don’t. They must’ve been my brother’s customers.” I mumble almost inaudibly.
“Your brother’s owns a store or something?” he presses on.
“You could say that.”
He’s quiet for a moment, probably mulling over and trying to see if there’s any underlying meaning behind my words. And then he asks, almost in this awkward boyish tone, “So, where do you want to go now?”
“Um,” I rack my brain, trying to think of a place for him to drop me off. I can’t go home, but I need to sleep. “the cemetery, please.”
We pull up to the iron gates and I step out into the cold, misty September night. I turn and thank him through the window, and then walk through the gates and onto the gravel walk. Then I hear a car door slam and I sense Him following me. I crook my head around and see him jogging up to me, his wet hair clinging to his face with rainwater and his jacket in his hand.
I look at his green eyes, “You didn’t have to come.” I say softly. He chuckles, as if this if a silly statement. “It’s alright, I’d like to join you, If that’s okay?” he looks hopefully down at me, and I want to say no but something inside of me is wanting a companion for the night and I hear myself saying, “Okay.”
He smiles, and drapes his jacket over my shoulders, “You’re gunna catch something, If you don’t keep dry.”
I look up at him, “Then what will you wear?” He shrugs, pulling at his fairly tight white T-shirt. I sigh, and resume walking on the gravel till it turns into a grassy dirt path, walking among the graves residing as bedposts for the eternal dead who are sleeping there. I meander about, walking up and down each row after row, after row after row after row. Then I look up and see that there’s a very new grave, the dirt on it a different shade of black and brown than the dirt surrounding it. I look at the stone, a cheap, little one that stays in the ground facing the sky because it’s all I could afford. I lean forwards and trace the letters, the cold, wet stone rough against my cool, soft fingertips.
“You know em?” he asks as he lights up a cigarette.
“Yes.” I whisper. He stops fumbling with the lighter he’s putting in his pocket. Looks down at my back, which is beginning to shake and tremble with every stifled cry. I can hear the crunch of the leaves as he comes closer, until he’s right behind me, crouched down and rubbing my back. I feel his hands wrap around my torso and panic for a minute before I realize that he’s trying to turn my towards him. So I do turn towards him and he pulls me in a tight, warm hug and I’m crying crying and I’m sobbing, each shaky breath racking my frail tiny body and he’s trying to keep my still, trying to calm me down, whispering into my ear, “it’s alright, it’s alright,” and I just want to melt into a puddle on the ground and the ground to swallow me whole.
His calloused fingers wipe away stray tears and he looks at me whispering an, “I’m sorry.” I nod, standing up and brushing my jeans and his jacket off. And I turn and see him there, still kneeling down and looking at the new upturned earth, reading the watery words on the rock. He looks down, then looks up at me with glass eyes.
“Something wrong?” I ask, quietly. Now it’s his turn to sigh, he stands up slouchingly and runs a hand through his hair. “It’s just, I lost my mom A while ago. Brought back memories.”
“I-I’m so sorry.” I say breathily. “Nah,” he shrugs, “ S’not your fault. It was just her time.” He stands at his full height, my head only touching the tip of his nose, and I notice the black smears all over his clothed chest. “O-oh, your shirt. I’m so sorry. I can-”
“He shushes me, a small smile playing with his lips, “Don’t worry about it.” We begin to walk back to his car, which is sill running, the rain revealed in the white headlights. He, once again, holds the door for me and I step back in, leaning my head against the headrest and looking at the upholstered gray ceiling. He slams his door shut and we back out, onto the street again. “So, he says once we’re on the road, “Where would you like to go now?”
“Um..I really don’t know.” I look at him, staring straight ahead, the orange tinted lights illuminating his soft yet pointed features. He slowly turns to look at me. “Well, I could pay for a room for you,
If you’d like.”
“Oh no I couldn’t-”
“Relax, I’ve got money to spare.”
“No, really. It’s okay. You’ve done enough for me already. I’ll be fine.”
~~~
We pull up to Moonshine Motel, a home away from home and I blink at him. “I don’t need a room.”
“I’m not about to let you roam the streets.” he says, rummaging through his pockets until he pulls out a twenty. Realizing that he won’t give in or shut up until I say yes. So I take the money, thank him for all he’s done, and get out of the car, and I realize, I don’t even know his name. So I ask. He smiles, of course, in return, “Kaden.” before revving the engine and speeding off, leaving me in the glow of the purple lighted word overhead.
Newly bathed and clean, I run my fingers through my wet hair and as soon as I sit on the side of the bed a huge wave of exhaustion hits me hard and I lay back, passing out immediately.
Idea 1: jump to my death.
Idea 2: sing that stupid song that’s stuck in my fucking head in hopes to get it out.
Idea 3: attempt to balance up high on one foot
Idea 4: …I’m no good at coming up with ideas.
“Am I loud and clear, or am I breaking up. An I still your charm, or am I just as rough. Are we getting closer or are we, just getting more lost. I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours first. Let’s compare scars, I’ll tell you whose is worse. Let’s unwrite these pages and replace them with the wrong words…”
I jump at the sound of a guitar strumming the chords that go along with the song. I look around, but I don’t see anyone.
“It’s Kadebaby!” A man falls out of nowhere and lands perfectly on a branch a few feet away. I look a little more critical, and I realize it’s the guy from the gas station. Embarrassed, I look the other way, and hope he will catch the drift. He doesn’t.
“You have a cool voice.” he tells me. I feel my face get hot and mumble a thank you, turning to lower
myself down. When I’m a few feet from the ground, a dark yet colorful blur falls past me and lands with a thud. I look down and see it’s him, guitar and all. I get to the ground quickly and turn to walk the other direction. I feel a jerk as he grabs my arm, pulling me backwards.
“Let’s go get a bite to eat, I‘ll grab.”
My struggle to get away stops. I haven’t eaten in 3 days. If he tries to kidnap me, well, I’m damned anyway. I let him lead me towards a beat up old blue Honda accord. He kicks the trunk, and it pops open. Sticks his guitar in, and opens the passenger’s door for me. “After you, m’lady.” he grins cheekily. I blink at him, and slowly get in. He shuts the door and jogs over to his side and gets in. He puts the key in the ignition and we speed off.
“We don’t need to hear that,” he mumbles as her switches Cds. “Much better.” He smiles as a familiar song floats up and out of the speakers. It swirls in my ears and throttles my heart. I love this song. I find myself singing the first few words below my breath so he can’t hear. “I’m gonna ride this plane, out of your life again. I wish that I could stay, but you argue…”
The words and chords blended perfectly together fill me up and I don’t realize until the guy look over at me and smiles, that I’m belting out the song. I quickly stop, looking down and wringing my hands, my face turning different shades of red. “Why’d you stop?” he asks.
“Because,” I shrug, “just..because.”
“Because why?” he presses on as he turns a corner. I just shake my head and stare out the window until we get to a small diner. Again, he opens my door for me and we go inside, the warmth hitting us like a sack of bricks. An older woman greets us and I follow him into a booth. He orders cheese burgers for both us and then turns back to me. “So,” he begins, clasping his hands together and getting this mock serious face so he kinds resembles Dr. Phil, “What is your name?”
I sigh, “You know, I know I owe you at least that, for buying my dinner, but honestly, why are you buying me dinner. You’re not going to get anything out of it, and I don’t have any money to pay you back or anything. So, there’s no point to any of this.”
He nods his head, pondering this, “I understand this,” he says jokingly serious, “but, honestly,” he’s mocking me. “I think you seem to be a really cool person, and-”
“But that’s the thing.” I say, “You don’t know me. You don’t know me at all. You just picked me up off the street and offered to buy me dinner.”
“I know that. But, how do most friendships work? They have to start somewhere. Usually they meet, and one will offer something, like a phone number of buying dinner in this case.” he gestures to the food being placed on the table and the waitress walking away. “So,” he starts up again, eating a French fry before looking up at me through his eyelashes and asking quietly, “what is your name?”
“Liv,” I shift uncomfortably, “LeNoir.”
He smiles, “It is my pleasure to meet you Miss Liv LeNoir.” I look down at my food and pick up the burger, before taking a bite of it and chewing and swallowing. Wow. I didn’t notice how hungry I was. I repeat the process until my plate is empty.
I look over and he just finishing up, too. He wipes his mouth and looks up, smiling. What’s up with this guy smiling so much?
“So where are you from?”
“England.”
“Ah, a Brit.” he leans forward, “So why are you here in America?”
“Um…” I look down at my hands in my lap. I really really reallyreallyreallyreally do not want to voice where I’ve been to this man. Bloody hell, I don’t even know his name. “I’d, really, rather,,not, um-”
“It’s alright.” he says, getting up and tossing a crumpled bills onto the table top. “Let’s get outta here.”
I trail behind him and he holds the door for me, again. This isn’t fucking olden days. I can take care of myself.
He gets in the drivers seat and starts the car. “Where are we going?” he looks over at me.
“Well,” I shrug, “I don’t know. Home, I guess?”
He smiles. “Okay. Where?”
“Um,” I look for a street sign, “turn here.”
I guide him through the streets of suburbia until we pull up in front of my 3 story run down brick house. Vines and weeds slowly eating the whole thing. I turn to open the door, but he pulls me back. And just looks at me. Looking past me face, past my eyes, like he’s in my brain or something.
“What?” I ask softly.
“Will..no, never mind.” he shakes his head. I just blink at him and turn to open the door again. But then I look up at the house, and I see a group of men. One, a huge somewhat fat man with ripped jeans and a dirty faded shirt and a burly beard sees the car and gets up, saying something to the others in a deep, slurred voice, pointing at me. “Do you know those people?” the guy whose name I still don’t know asks. I shake my head and swallow something in my throat as the huge man comes closer. I bite my lip, “Um..”
Suddenly he’s right next to us, right outside my window, banging on the glass. “Hey, are you Ashlee?” he asks. He knows my alias. Dan must have set this up and not have told me.
“I thought your name was Liv.”
“It is.”
“Well then who-” we both stop and look to see that’s he’s hitting the car door repeatedly . “Open the fuggin door!” he hollers, I look at the boy whose car I’m in, panic stricken, and we speeds off, leaving the man in the dark of night.
“So, um,” he starts, “Do you know those people?”
“No, I don’t. They must’ve been my brother’s customers.” I mumble almost inaudibly.
“Your brother’s owns a store or something?” he presses on.
“You could say that.”
He’s quiet for a moment, probably mulling over and trying to see if there’s any underlying meaning behind my words. And then he asks, almost in this awkward boyish tone, “So, where do you want to go now?”
“Um,” I rack my brain, trying to think of a place for him to drop me off. I can’t go home, but I need to sleep. “the cemetery, please.”
We pull up to the iron gates and I step out into the cold, misty September night. I turn and thank him through the window, and then walk through the gates and onto the gravel walk. Then I hear a car door slam and I sense Him following me. I crook my head around and see him jogging up to me, his wet hair clinging to his face with rainwater and his jacket in his hand.
I look at his green eyes, “You didn’t have to come.” I say softly. He chuckles, as if this if a silly statement. “It’s alright, I’d like to join you, If that’s okay?” he looks hopefully down at me, and I want to say no but something inside of me is wanting a companion for the night and I hear myself saying, “Okay.”
He smiles, and drapes his jacket over my shoulders, “You’re gunna catch something, If you don’t keep dry.”
I look up at him, “Then what will you wear?” He shrugs, pulling at his fairly tight white T-shirt. I sigh, and resume walking on the gravel till it turns into a grassy dirt path, walking among the graves residing as bedposts for the eternal dead who are sleeping there. I meander about, walking up and down each row after row, after row after row after row. Then I look up and see that there’s a very new grave, the dirt on it a different shade of black and brown than the dirt surrounding it. I look at the stone, a cheap, little one that stays in the ground facing the sky because it’s all I could afford. I lean forwards and trace the letters, the cold, wet stone rough against my cool, soft fingertips.
“You know em?” he asks as he lights up a cigarette.
“Yes.” I whisper. He stops fumbling with the lighter he’s putting in his pocket. Looks down at my back, which is beginning to shake and tremble with every stifled cry. I can hear the crunch of the leaves as he comes closer, until he’s right behind me, crouched down and rubbing my back. I feel his hands wrap around my torso and panic for a minute before I realize that he’s trying to turn my towards him. So I do turn towards him and he pulls me in a tight, warm hug and I’m crying crying and I’m sobbing, each shaky breath racking my frail tiny body and he’s trying to keep my still, trying to calm me down, whispering into my ear, “it’s alright, it’s alright,” and I just want to melt into a puddle on the ground and the ground to swallow me whole.
His calloused fingers wipe away stray tears and he looks at me whispering an, “I’m sorry.” I nod, standing up and brushing my jeans and his jacket off. And I turn and see him there, still kneeling down and looking at the new upturned earth, reading the watery words on the rock. He looks down, then looks up at me with glass eyes.
“Something wrong?” I ask, quietly. Now it’s his turn to sigh, he stands up slouchingly and runs a hand through his hair. “It’s just, I lost my mom A while ago. Brought back memories.”
“I-I’m so sorry.” I say breathily. “Nah,” he shrugs, “ S’not your fault. It was just her time.” He stands at his full height, my head only touching the tip of his nose, and I notice the black smears all over his clothed chest. “O-oh, your shirt. I’m so sorry. I can-”
“He shushes me, a small smile playing with his lips, “Don’t worry about it.” We begin to walk back to his car, which is sill running, the rain revealed in the white headlights. He, once again, holds the door for me and I step back in, leaning my head against the headrest and looking at the upholstered gray ceiling. He slams his door shut and we back out, onto the street again. “So, he says once we’re on the road, “Where would you like to go now?”
“Um..I really don’t know.” I look at him, staring straight ahead, the orange tinted lights illuminating his soft yet pointed features. He slowly turns to look at me. “Well, I could pay for a room for you,
If you’d like.”
“Oh no I couldn’t-”
“Relax, I’ve got money to spare.”
“No, really. It’s okay. You’ve done enough for me already. I’ll be fine.”
~~~
We pull up to Moonshine Motel, a home away from home and I blink at him. “I don’t need a room.”
“I’m not about to let you roam the streets.” he says, rummaging through his pockets until he pulls out a twenty. Realizing that he won’t give in or shut up until I say yes. So I take the money, thank him for all he’s done, and get out of the car, and I realize, I don’t even know his name. So I ask. He smiles, of course, in return, “Kaden.” before revving the engine and speeding off, leaving me in the glow of the purple lighted word overhead.
Newly bathed and clean, I run my fingers through my wet hair and as soon as I sit on the side of the bed a huge wave of exhaustion hits me hard and I lay back, passing out immediately.