He nodded to my fiddle case. "Why didn't you come play with me?" Immediately he rolled his eyes at himself. "That's not what I meant."
I didn't point out that if he was constantly hearing double entendres in his own words, he had a dirtier mind than he wanted to let on. Sam having a dirty mind was okay with me. It was adorable, actually, as long as his mind was on me.
Tags: double-entendre adorable dirty-mind
I like doing things that make me uncomfortable. I try not to have a comfort zone
Jennifer EcholsTags: sam comfort-zone uncomfortable-things
I feel like I've been through a lot in the past couple of years, But I've kept pretty stable. That's because I channel that emotion into performance. I can handle emotion as long as it's only a song. It works for me, and I don't want to change it. I don't have anything left for writing.
Jennifer EcholsTags: writing emotion song sam handling-emotion nothing-left through-a-lot
If you're putting that energy into performance," he said, "you're also getting it back out again, right? You're giving so you can receive." He spread his arms wide. "If you were writing songs with it, you'd be holed up in your room in the middle of the night, scribbling them in a notebook and feeling self-important. You'd think you were getting it out, but really you'd be keeping it inside and quiet. You'd take what upset you and turn it into art, and now it would fester, because you think other people ought to share your outrage at what happened to you.
Jennifer EcholsTags: energy self-importance emotion feeling outrage sam giving-and-receiving writing-songs
Sam was creative and dedicated, but his wasn't the plodding bright-and-early work ethic of the morning person, like mine. It was the crazy creative burst of the night owl, long dark hours of despair before dawn.
Jennifer EcholsTags: creative morning-person bailey before-dawn night-person
And I was bitter. Bitterness and I were old friends by now, but at the moment bitterness was trying to go down my bra in public.
Jennifer EcholsTags: bitterness bitter bailey
I continued to move my fingers across his skin exactly as I had before, but I needed to make a decision. I had reached for him, but I could back out of it by trailing my fingers down his arm and settling my hand in his, like I wanted us to be friends.
I didn't want us to be friends.
Ever so slowly, I slid my hand up his sleeve, across his shoulder, and up his neck to cradle his jaw, prickly with stubble.
Tags: friends decision bailey sam not-friends
Deana Carter sings about it. Lady Antebellum sings about it. Eric Church. Gosh, not just country artists. Katy Perry. Everybody has a song about it because everybody's been through it. You find that person at eighteen and you lose yourself. And the tragedy is, it's the person who's completely opposed to everything you've ever wanted. You bond with that person, and that person breaks your heart. I'm that tragedy for you, and you're mine.
Jennifer EcholsTags: tragedy songs heartbreak lose-yourself eighteen
I shrugged off his arm. “That’s right. Fourteen-year-old boys have better taste than you. They think I’m hot.” I licked my fingertip and stuck it on my butt. “Tsssss.”
And with that, I propelled myself across the slope and skidded to a stop at one end of the trick rail. “Quick,” I told the boys, “act like you think I’m hot.”
Chloe cracked up. Josh stared blankly at me. His friends blushed deep red, but they weren’t claiming it.
“Thanks for your support,” I told them. “Look without looking like you’re looking. Is Nick gone?
Tags: humor
Was it good to treasure the memory of a few perfect hours together? Or would I have been better off never meeting him?
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