Page 564 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

I feel Andrew’s gaze follow,

his eyes slowly lifting

to the guitar in the deep end. “Shit⁠—”

His body flinches, boots scuffing stone,

as if he’s going to dive in and save it.

But he catches himself,

staying right where he is,

his hands falling to his sides.

There’s no point.

It’s too late.

The guitar is sinking.

“Allison… what the fuck did you do?”

I close my eyes.

One tear knifes down my cheek,

and the cold stings its wet trail.

Eight years of cherishing Dad’s guitar,

and it gets one fucking tear.

“Doesn’t matter.”

He turns his back, hand diving into his hair, gripping the roots. “It does matter. It does,” he says, exasperated, the words tearing out of him. “That wasn’t just a guitar, and you fuckin’ know it.” He spins on his heel, stepping directly in front of me. “You’re breakin’ things you love now?”

“Nothing sticks around anyway.”

For a beat, he stares at me,

shaking his head.

“So that’s what all this is? That’s why you disappear on me? You think I’m leavin’ you? All ‘cause I went mute. All ‘cause I didn’t fuckin’ say it back, as if I haven’t been showin’ you for three months how much you mean to me. And now you think I’m leavin’?” He rubs his chest, shaking his head. “For fuck’s sake—I can barely leave any goddamn room you’re in, what makes you think I could ever leave you?”

I face my lap, press the bottom of the bottle into my thigh, watch the impression it makes in my skin.

He leans down, tries catching my gaze,

gestures a hand to me.

“Allison, up here.”

Sighing,

I drop my head against the lounge chair,

and stare right into his eyes.