TO BE CONTINUED…
While it’s sad to leave Edie and Garrett in this torn apart state, they both need a few days before they can make things right in their world. So, while we wait for them to stew and brew and come to the realization they can’t live without each other, we’ll have to move on to Khiley and Stephen and just what could be bothering the soul mates.
Cover Images: © Deposit Photos | VitalikRadko and iStock | Antonel
Stephen Brennan and Khiley Abbott
A long time ago, a girl named Cam fell in love before she was born with her neighbor, Jake. My Life as a Country Album shared their coming-of-age tragedy and the story of the man who made Cam feel whole again after losing her soul mate. What could be more fitting, then, for her daughter, Khiley, to have that same soul mate experience, but with a different ending? Khiley’s soul mate is the son of Cam’s best friend, Wynn, who found her happily ever after in My Life as a Mixtape. Khiley and Stephen were born a few months apart and were raised hip to hip, much like Cam and Jake once were. But now they’ve got something pulling at the fabric of them…
Still confused? Check out the “My Life as an Album Series Who’s Who.”
Stephen
NOT THIS YEAR
“When I look into the mirror
No happiness is present here.”
Performed by Aly & AJ
Written by Price / AJ Michalka / Armato / Michalka
Khiley was aching to leave. I could feel it in every breath she drew next to me. I’d had a hard time convincing her to come in the first place. Only the fact that if we hadn’t shown up, it would have raised more suspicions had pushed her to come. But once Khiley’s brother, Mayson, had arrived, and Edie had handed out our assignments, Khiley was done. She whispered, “Let’s go.”
And I did what I’d done my whole life, which was to follow where she led. Because I could never, ever not go where she went. Even though I was older, she was the one who usually showed me the way. She was my world. Had always been my world.
We spent the normal forever it took to say goodbye to the crew, put on our coats, and finally escaped. The sky was full of clouds, and the air was freezing. It felt like snow, but the peace and calm that normally came with that wintery blanket would be lost on me. My feelings were too much a jumble of mixed emotions. Excitement. Apprehension. Desire. Anguish.
“I’m not ready to go home,” Khiley said. Her wavering voice made me ache to the depths of my soul. She’d cried more in the last three weeks than she had in the twenty-one years I’d known her.
“The lake?” I asked, and when she nodded, I opened the passenger door of my truck for her. She didn’t even fight me about driving, which almost spoke more about her state of mind than the tears.
We drove just past the shared drive that led to my home and the Waters’ house, taking the road to the lake instead. Once we’d parked, Khiley made her way to the tire swing that had been hanging in the tree past the picnic tables for as long as I could remember.
She shoved off with her toes, and I went behind her, pushing her higher, trying to remember the joy we used to have in this simple act. The silence between us was echoed in the hush that surrounded the lake in the winter. Barely any life showing amongst the frozen grass, bare trees, and rippling water.
“Remember when you got stitches?” she asked.
I smiled. Yes, I remembered.
Khiley had spent the night at our house because Cam and Blake were up in Nashville for some entertainment event. She was sleeping in my room on the trundle bed that was always hers on nights like these, but instead of sleeping, she woke me with a flashlight in my eyes.
We were learning about astronomy at school, and Khiley decided we needed to go out and explore the heavens to see the constellations for ourselves. I didn’t even bat an eye. I just got out of bed and went with her.
That air was dog heavy, announcing summer was only a few days away, as we made our way down the beaten path to the lake. Khiley beelined for the picnic tables, climbing up on top of one and lying down before turning the flashlight off. I joined her, my hand finding hers. We stared out at the dark sky while the crickets talked and the fireflies flitted around us.
She sighed, contentment rolling through her, and it drew my eyes from the dark sky to her face and her body barely visible in the moonlight. She was wearing nothing more than a tank and cotton pajama shorts, and they showed all the curves that had suddenly sprouted from her lean frame. Those curves tugged at parts of my body that were changing as much as hers, and for the first time in our life together, I’d wondered what it would be like to have her lips pressed against mine. Would it feel as complete as when we had our fingers linked?
I didn’t give it much thought past that. I just leaned over and put my lips on hers. Softly and then pressing harder. At first, her whole body stilled in a way it rarely did, and then she pushed me so hard I rolled off the table, catching the bench with my chin on my way down. Blood instantly spurted from the cut.
Khiley laughed, her soft laugh I only heard when she was with me, until she realized I was bleeding. Then, she was at my side in a flash, pressing the bottom of her tank top to my chin.
“Oh my God. I’m sorry,” she said. The blood instantly soaked through the edge, spreading out over the thin material.
“Take your shirt off,” she commanded.
“You take yours off. Mom will make me do laundry for weeks if I come home with blood on mine after sneaking out.”
Khiley averted her gaze. “I… I can’t take mine off.”
“Why not?”
We’d seen each other naked a gazillion times before. Not as much in the last few years. But as little kids, we’d gone into the lake in nothing more than underwear more than we’d worn swimsuits. After biking or fishing or hiking, Khiley was never patient enough to wait until we changed before diving into the cool water.
Her gaze met mine, unsure—so not her—and it caused my eyes to journey down to the little buds pushing against the thin material of her tank. That was all it took for me to reach for the back of my T-shirt and pull it over my head, shoving it against the open wound.
She pulled on my arm, guiding me back toward the house. As we walked, the air was awkward between us in a way it never was. “I’m sorry I kissed you,” I told her.
Her eyes flitted to me. “I was supposed to do it first.”
I stopped in my tracks. “You wanted to kiss me? Then why’d you push me away?”
She shrugged and pulled on my arm again to get us moving, but I didn’t budge.
“Come on, ‘Ley. Tell me.”
“You’re bleeding all over the place.”
“Tell me.”
It took her a few seconds before she said softly, “I don’t want it to change things between us.”
I pulled her to me with my arm that wasn’t holding my shirt to my chin, and she let me hug her. “Something as stupid as kissing can’t ever change what we are.”