“Excuse me,” she says, collecting herself. “That was weird. Anyway, this is a song a lot of you might know. It’s called ‘Tomorrow Never Comes.’”
She starts out the opening riff on her guitar, and I immediately recognize the melody.
It’s a beautiful top-forty song from a couple years ago.
She sings it better than the original. Much better.
As she sings, I don’t know if it’s her beautiful, wispy voice or the lyrics, but I have a vision listening to her. An almost out-of-body experience.
She sings:
Waiting for the moonlight
Waiting for the sun
You’ll do that thing tomorrow
But tomorrow never comes
Yeah, tomorrow never comes
You fell behind in the race
The cards never fell into place
Blame it all on the dealer
Blame it all on the draw
You’ll get better cards tomorrow
But tomorrow never comes
Yeah, tomorrow never comes.
And I’m not a religious man, necessarily. Not lately. But I feel as though I’m having a religious experience right now. The hair on the back of my neck stands up, a ball forms in the back of my throat, and I reconsider everything that I’m doing with my entire life.
I run a hand through my hair as she plays the guitar instrumental.
What AM I doing? Waiting? Getting work experience in a pizza joint? For what? I know what I want to do with my life. I just need to do it.
I know the West Coast is calling me.
I rub my face and turn to the bartender, tapping my glass.
Harmony finishes to raucous applause.
Well, as raucous as ten people in a bar in the middle of nowhere can be. But still, it’s an enthusiastic clap.
Suddenly I have a vision I can’t stop.
Harmony on a stage in front of thousands of people. Singing that very song.
Part of me—the logical part of my brain—thinks that’s a silly vision. That I’m seeing things and I should have my head checked out.
The illogical part of my brain is saying let’s go.
A few minutes before midnight, she finishes singing and heads over to a group of people who look like friends.
I head over to the group as well. As I approach, I notice two of the guys are mean-mugging me.
I ignore them.
“Great playing tonight,” I say, looking directly at Harmony. God, she looks gorgeous. She looks so sexy in her jeans, I want to rip them off of her, and her cleavage is temptingly visible with the V-neck T-shirt she’s wearing. Classy and curvy, Harmony looks like a young Adele. “Especially that song—‘Tomorrow Never Comes.’ You played it better than the original. You played it like it was yours. It didn’t even sound like a cover.”
She fidgets, seeming uncomfortable. “Thanks. Guys, this is—”
“Zach Reid,” one of the fellas cuts in.
She looks over at the one who interjected. “You two know each other?”
He nods. “You used to work for me. Before you got sentenced. Sebastian’s my name. This is my girlfriend, Brett.”
“Hi,” Brett says, reaching out to shake my hand. “Yeah, I feel like I’ve seen you around at some point.”
My skin crawls at the mention of the word sentenced. Truth was, I’ve been trying to keep that part of me from Harmony. But might as well bring it up now.
“I go by Zach,” I say, as I shake hands with both of them.
“And these are my friends Rose and Cole,” Harmony finishes, and then tilts her head. “You were sentenced? What for?”
“Murder,” I say.
She drops her jaw, and her eyes widen to saucers. She covers her mouth. “Oh, God.”
“Just kidding.” I smirk. “It’s a long story . . . We don’t have to get into that right now. Seriously, your performance? Dear God, that was amazing. I’d love to buy you a drink, but this place closes at midnight and they already did last call.”
Cole cuts in. “We’re good, man. Thanks. And although she appreciates you giving her a ride home last week, we got her now.”
“Yeah, all good,” Sebastian adds. “No need for another one of your joy rides down some bumpy country road tonight. I’ve got my ride.”
I furrow my brow at Cole. The two girls chat quietly with each other. I wonder if they’re privy to how big of a dick their boyfriends are being. “What’s with the attitude, man? I’m just trying to have a civil conversation here.”
Harmony overhears and puts a hand on Cole’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Cole. Seriously,” she adds, then faces me. “We’re heading to a house party. Someone has OC tonight.”
“Malek’s Open Crib? Is that where you’re going?”
She seems surprised. “How’d you know?”
“Just a lucky guess.”
“We’ll see you over there, buddy,” Sebastian says, patting me on the shoulder. “Nice to see you.”
I swallow a lump in my throat and clench my fists. I know when I’m not wanted. And this is exhibit A. It is most certainly not nice to see me.
I clench my jaw. If I were back in the joint, I’d throw down right now. This is disrespect.
I’d have to throw down in the joint. Because if I didn’t, I’d have to put up with having a target on my back the rest of my sentence.
I clench my fists and grind my teeth, sizing up the two of them. They’re in good shape, but I’m not sure how hardened they are. Not like me, at least.
I steal one more glance at Harmony, and she averts her eyes.
“See you tomorrow then, maybe,” I say.
“See you, Zach,” she calls in a sweet singsong tone.
Part of me wants to key the guy’s car. But luckily, my cooler head prevails.
I’m a black sheep. I should have been up-front with Harmony and told her the first night about my stint. My shame and wanting to put my past behind me must have gotten to me.
The hot night air greets me, and I slam my fists together.
Harmony’s a good girl. She’s pretty. Talented. And damn, that voice. I now understand what it means when someone talks about a sort of woman that wars are started over. Even her girlfriends’ boyfriends are getting all defensive of her.
I’ve got the black sheep label now, though, so I might as well get her out of my mind. That first night we had was an aberration. A mistake. She was probably scared shitless that whole ride.
Sitting on my motorcycle, I feel myself and my heart hardening. I have a realization.
Since when do I get caught up on one girl?
I’m not a one-girl kind of guy, anyhow.
I’m getting stars in my eyes for Harmony, and it’s messing with my mind.
Pulling out my phone, I dial up Kevin.
“Hey, loser,” he answers. “Still too cool to hang out?”
“Where are you?” I ask, ignoring his comment.
“Malek’s. I told you.”
A slow smile crosses my face. “Perfect. I’ll see you in a few. Let’s get shitfaced.”
I hang up and turn the key to rev my engine.
I haven’t gone balls to the walls partying since I got out. I’ve been a good little ex-con. I’ve been saving up my money, always thinking about tomorrow.