Finding the Magic (Tom Kelly's Boys Book 1) Read online

  "I love you too."

  The next two calls I made were to friends of mine in New York. I told them the truth of what happened between Kade and I so they would understand the urgency.

  Within the hour, I had four friends who showed up ready and willing to help. We made three piles. The first was for things I'd take on the plane, the second was things I'd ship, and the third was things I would give away or donate. The last pile was by far the largest. I was only taking things that were extremely special to me, and that wasn't a whole lot.

  It was the middle of the night by the time we got everything organized, and I ended up with three suitcases and five boxes to be shipped. My friends took most of the things I decided to leave, but there were still a few boxes that I needed to have picked up.

  Packing and moving never goes as fast as you think it will, and it was four in the morning when they left. I had several drinks while we were packing, and I figured it was best if I got some sleep before my flight, which left at noon the following day.

  It was a rough night.

  I was like a flower that had been ripped from its place in the garden. I felt like I had been torn from the ground, roots and all, and was flailing around in the hand of some careless gardener. I was definitely feeling like more of an unwanted weed than a flower at this point.

  I got no more than a few hours sleep and before I knew it, I found myself on a southbound plane. I flew directly from New York to West Palm Beach, which was not far from, Jensen, where I grew up.

  My parents picked me up and were extremely gracious about not mentioning Kade, or the breakup, or London, or pianos, or the forgetting of music. I could tell they both wanted to talk to me, but they must have known I was thankful to ignore the subjects, because they made random chitchat and left me alone about the meaningful stuff.

  I was extremely tired when we made it home, and I went straight to my room to go to bed. I spent the better part of the next two days in my old room thinking about everything. I don't know how many times I replayed the concert, wondering what went wrong and how in the world the music just left my fingers like that.

  There had to be a medical explanation for it.

  Over and over again, I remembered the way I had to leave the stage, and felt the gut wrenching pain of shame and regret. I caught myself, more than once, hoping against hope that the extreme nature of my embarrassment would at some point settle to a manageable amount, but right now, it was anything but manageable.

  I even tried to guilt myself into feeling better about it—telling myself things like there were a lot of people who were in much worse situations than me, but guilt didn't work either.

  I knew I had to make plans and go on with life, which meant I would have to just grin and fake it until happiness found me again. But at the moment, that seemed incredibly distant.

  Chapter 4

  Months passed.

  Christmas, then my 21st birthday, then Valentine's Day, then Easter (which I don't know why I'm noting because they were all uneventful), then June rolled around, and the next thing I knew, I was moving into Megan's guesthouse.

  I had spent five months with my parents while I considered a suitable Plan B for my life. I decided teaching at the collegiate level was a perfectly logical choice, so I made plans accordingly. I would need to get my master's and perhaps even a doctorate, but first, I just needed to focus on finishing my bachelor's.

  One day at a time.

  One foot in front of the other.

  So, there I was, stacking the last few boxes into the corner of my new bedroom at Megan's pad. The place was incredibly nice, furnished with a beautiful queen size bed. It was large enough to have a little sitting area off to the side with a small couch.

  My parents and sister helped me move and were all standing around my bedroom. "You want us to help you start getting situated?" Brie asked. She started to open a box, but I stopped her.

  "Don't worry about it," I said. "It'll give me something to do."

  "I'm so glad you have such a nice room," my mom said, looking up at the vaulted ceilings.

  I'd stayed there before when visiting Megan, but it was my family's first time seeing it.

  "You shoulda known Alan's house would look like this," my dad said as he plopped onto the couch.

  "Don't get too comfortable," my mom scolded. "We need to let Addie get settled." She turned to me. "What time's Megan supposed to be back?"

  "She text me a while ago saying she was on her way, but you never know."

  "I wanted to stick around to tell her thank you."

  Megan's family was letting me live there rent-free while I finished my degree, and I had already thanked them profusely.

  "I'm fine with you guys sticking around, but I have no idea what time she'll be home."

  Just then, as if it were planned, we heard the door open and the sound of Megan calling, "Hellooo?"

  "Hello!" I yelled.

  My family followed me when I walked out of my bedroom and into the living room. I walked directly into Megan's arms.

  "I'm glad you're here, Chica," she said.

  "Me too," I said, taking a step back to take her in. She had on a white sundress with lots of gold accessories. She had long, wavy, honey-blonde hair with a pair of oversized aviators perched on her head like a headband. She looked like a sun goddess, and I took her in thinking I might have to reconsider the conservative librarian look now that I'd moved to Miami.

  "You look so good," she said, scanning me from head to toe.

  I smiled, figuring she expected me to look all broken down. "I'm feeling good," I said. "Excited to get settled in."

  "Don't get too settled in," her little brother said from behind her. I had seen him standing back there, but hadn't paid attention to him. I wasn't surprised that he told me not to get too comfortable. It was no secret that he wanted Megan to get out of the guest house so he could move in, but he was only fifteen and his parents wouldn't let him even if we weren't back there.

  "Are you gonna make me wrestle you to the ground Steven Richie?" I asked, narrowing my eyes and pointing right at him. "I'm still bigger than you."

  He stood next to me, bowing his chest out to make himself look bigger. "I outgrew you like a year ago, girl, you better recognize."

  I laughed. Steven was one of those white guys who's totally gangsta. He usually tried to tone it down in front of adults, but he was so hyper about proving me wrong about the height thing that he let it come out like he was some big black guy. He was one of the funniest people I knew, whether he meant to be or not, and I looked forward to more of these gangsta antics. "I'm serrus, y'all need to get up outta here," he said, turning his hat to the side and looking down his nose at me as if he wanted to fight.

  The hilarious thing was, he actually pulled it off. He and Megan were the children of beautiful people, therefore they were beautiful, and it didn’t really matter what he wore or if he talked like a gangsta, he was a total cutie. I reached out and pinched his cheek. "You are just too cute, Stevie," I said. It came out in the same tone you'd use on a six-month-old, and he huffed and rolled his eyes.

  The rest of us giggled at him as he walked off. "You sure it's okay if she stays back here with you?" my dad asked, concerned. Do you need the bedroom for…" he pointed in the direction of Steven, who was digging through the fridge.

  Megan laughed. "My parents wouldn't let him move back here even if the place was empty," she said. "He just likes to run his mouth."

  Steven left soon after he ate the snack he pulled from the fridge, but my parents and sister stayed for an hour or so catching up with Megan about her dad's business, school, and life in Miami.

  Megan's dad had done plastic surgery on over a hundred celebrities, and she had a few stories where the names were changed to protect the innocent, but she got really close to the name so that we would know who she was talking about.

  By dinnertime, my family had gone back to Jensen, leaving me to begin unpacking my things. Meg
an offered to go get some take out, and by the time she got back, I already had all my bathroom stuff unpacked.

  "Let's go eat outside," she said. "It's nice out."

  The Richies had a huge stone wall surrounding their property, and Megan walked me toward the back of it where some trees created a private canopy. There was a concrete bench under them, near the back wall, and I followed Megan to it. She sat down and opened her to-go container full of Thai food.

  "I would have never even known this bench was back here," I said, sitting beside her and doing the same.

  "You almost always have to bring bug spray because of the shade, but it's worth it if—" Megan stopped speaking and tilted her head to the side as if listening for something. She stuck a finger in the air as if to tell me to be quiet, and I gave her a confused look because I had good ears and hadn't heard anything. "Listen, I think I hear somebody. Oh, it would just be too good if they were outside." Her eyes got huge and a big grin spread across her face as she sat down the box of Thai food she'd just opened.

  "What in the world are you doing?" I asked watching her as she sat down on the sandy dirt that lined the back of the property. She not only sat on the ground, but she also sort of reclined back on her elbow so she was almost lying down. Once I saw where she was headed, I noticed there was an irregular shaped hole in the wall. It was about two feet off the ground and about two inches in diameter. She leaned back so she could peer through the hole.

  "Hang on, it's hard to see—" she whispered.

  "What are you doing?" I asked.

  "Shhhhh. I'm trying to see if... yes, oh shit, it's your lucky day." Her eyes popped up to meet mine. "Get down here and look at this," she said. "And you're welcome in advance," she added.

  She scooted over as I set my food on the bench and squatted down to peek through the hole. The opening's shape was even more regular than I first thought. I peered through it thinking it looked more like a crack in the wall then a hole. The wall must've been ten inches thick and on the other side there was some shrubbery in the foreground with someone else's backyard and swimming pool in the distance.

  I squinted into the hole, not seeing or hearing anybody and wondering what the heck she was talking about. Just when I was about to look up at her, a guy came into my field of vision. The crack was a challenge to look through, but once I focused, I had a clear view of the pool and could now see who she was talking about.

  I knew right away why she said you're welcome. If Megan was a sun goddess, this guy was a sun god. He was all male torso with long, dirty-blonde hair that hung on his shoulders. He was the most gorgeous version of a surfer I'd ever seen or could ever imagine. I got a good look at him before my eyes snapped up to meet Megan's.

  She laughed. "I know, right?"

  "Who the heck is that?"

  Megan shrugged. "Even though our backyards connect, you have to go around a few miles to get to the front of that house. Steven swears they're some kind of pirates. That's how I found this hole. I caught him looking through it one day. He's probably the one who made it. He said he's seen them do some crazy shit over there, but I think he's just making it up. You know how Steven is."

  "Who else lives there?" I asked, focusing into the crack again. "A couple of other guys, and there's girls in and out of there too. I don't sit out here and look. For one, it's too hard to see anything and most of the time I'm just frustrated trying to catch a glimpse. Secondly, I'm scared they're gonna catch me. Like I'll look in the crack and there will be a big pirate eyeball staring back at me."

  "So you believe they're pirates?"

  "No," she said, laughing. "I just don't want to get caught looking through a fence at anyone, pirate or not."

  I peered through again but couldn't see him any longer. "What'd your brother say about them?" I asked. I stood and picked up my box of food from the bench.

  "You'll have to ask him. He was all freaked out one time because he said he overheard one of them tell a story about Captain Tom, whoever that is, cutting someone's head off." Megan rolled her eyes. "See? I told you it was ludicrous. I didn't even listen to him. There's no way he could have overheard all that anyway. You see how big that backyard is. You're lucky if you even hear the slightest murmur of conversation and he's acting like he knows the whole story. He's just trying to get attention."

  "I wonder who Captain Tom is." I said. "You don't think it could be this guy, do you?" I thought about stooping down to peek through the crack again, but didn't want to seem too eager.

  "I have no idea," Megan said. "The whole thing's probably made up, so it doesn’t really matter."

  "How often do you come back here and look?" I asked.

  "Hardly ever," she said. "But it's nice to get an eyeful every once in a while if you're having a bad day. They're not always out there, but when they are, they're usually shirtless."

  "That's a bonus," I said.

  "Even if they're pirates?" she asked.

  "Especially if they're pirates."

  "You sound like me when Steven first told me about it. I thought I was gonna look through there to find Johnny Depp on the other side."

  "That guy looks better than Johnny Depp," I said.

  "Yeah, but what I'm saying is, I expected to look through there to see a treasure chest and a guy with an eye patch and a parrot. I told Steven as much when I looked through and he got all serious with me and said I shouldn't make fun of it or take it lightly. He was freaking out, comparing them to gangstas or mob bosses who would take me out if they knew I was laughing about eye patches."

  I couldn't contain my laugh. I could just imagine Steven getting intense about it. "He just looks like a regular guy," I said, shrugging and taking a bite of my Pad Thai. Megan gave me a measured stare, and I giggled. "Okay, maybe not a regular guy, but you know what I mean—no eye patch or anything."

  "I've seen a few different guys back there, but he's the main one."

  "No girls?" I asked.

  "Sometimes. I saw a girl back there one time… she was in a bikini at first, and then the next thing you know…"

  "You saw her get naked?" I asked, wide-eyed.

  "I saw a lot more than that."

  "Are you serious?"

  She nodded.

  "You saw them…"

  She nodded.

  "You watched two people have sex?" I asked, feeling the need to clarify.

  She nodded.

  "Was it that guy?" I pointed at the stone wall, and she nodded again. "Who was the girl?"

  She shrugged. "I have no idea."

  We were both quiet for a second.

  "I can't believe you watched," I said.

  "Oh come on, you would have done the same thing."

  "No I would not."

  "Yes you would. Trust me, when it's happening right in front of you, it's impossible to look away—especially when the guy looks like that."

  I had the feeling she was right. I was finding it challenging to refrain from setting my food down so I could stoop down right then and get another peek.

  Chapter 5

  Not only did I stoop down and take another peek while Megan and I were out there eating, but I also went back the next morning for a quick glance. I should be ashamed to admit this, but it was the first morning since the night in London that I didn't wake up thinking about losing the music.

  That morning I woke up thinking about the gorgeous surfer I'd seen through the crack in the wall the day before. I tried to remember what he looked like, and found myself doubting that he could possibly be as good as my memory. That was the thought that sparked my curiosity enough to go out there again. I didn't think anyone would notice me out on that bench, but I hesitated to go right when I woke up just in case. I waited an hour; I held out till 11AM when I brought my coffee out onto the bench.

  It was Friday, and I didn't really have high hopes that anyone would be back there, but you can bet I planned to look through that crack just in case. I'd only been sitting on the bench for a few second
s before I decided to set down my coffee mug in preparation for looking through the crack. I looked at the back of the guesthouse, and farther off to the main house. There was no sign of life at either place. Dr. Richie and his wife were probably already out for the day, and I assumed Steven was preoccupied or sleeping in like his sister.

  The bench was in a shaded spot on the back edge of the property, so I felt pretty confident that no one would notice me. I adjusted my coffee mug, trying to look casual as I glanced again at the Richie's house and guesthouse, and then slipped off of the bench.

  I sat on the ground with my back against the wall. English Ivy covered the wall in some areas, but it was bare in the spot near the bench. The soil was sandy, and I wondered as I sat in it if that was why the ivy didn't grow there. I leaned over to look through the hole. I blinked, trying to focus and feeling frustrated at the shrub that was obstructing my view. I didn't remember there being so much of that yesterday and I wished there was a way for me to get into their backyard with a weed wacker.

  I waited patiently, and sure enough the wind carried the branches here and there, and I was able to get a clearer view. A clear view didn't make male models appear, though. All I could see was an empty backyard.

  I had been staring at that empty backyard for the better part of a minute when it hit me. I had been awake for over an hour, and I hadn't thought about the concert. I stood up and sat on the bench, and for the next few minutes, had the same wave of sadness hit me. I sipped on my coffee trying to talk myself out of the same doubt and fear that had been plaguing me since December. It was getting easier, but it wasn't easy yet, and I was thankful for the distraction that lay on the other side of that wall.

  I was looking directly at the back door of the Richie's house when it opened. Steven came out wearing some saggy athletic shorts, an oversized T-shirt, and a flatbill cap turned to the side. I smiled as he approached thinking he actually pulled off the look.

  I smiled at him until I realized he wasn’t smiling back. In fact, he was pinning me with a stare. "What are you doing back here?" he asked. His tone was hushed, but his expression was verging on murderous.