Fall From Love Read Free Page A

eyes look tired and haggard, though. Normally,
I would have asked him if everything is okay, but even with him, I’m not up for
conversation. Joe is the owner of Sterling’s and is actually the one who first
convinced me to sing up on stage.
    He was walking past
our booth one night and had heard me singing along to a band up on stage. He
stopped and told me that it should’ve been me up there singing that song. I
smiled politely, but told him that it made me too nervous to have all of those
people staring at me.
    “Don’t waste
your life being scared; you never know when you’ll get another chance.” His words echo in my head as I stand there staring at
him.
    “How’ve you been?
Haven’t seen you in here since—” he pauses for a moment and looks towards the
ground. “It’s been a while.”
    “Yeah, it has,” I
answer.
    “We gonna hear that
beautiful voice of yours tonight?” He looks back up at me and I shake my head.
    “Not tonight, Joe.” And probably not ever again .
    “When you’re ready
then.” He smiles and walks away, leaving a sick feeling in my stomach.
    I glance around,
now desperate for a drink and my protective best friend to come back. When I
finally spot her, I see her hanging all over some guy at the bar. She’s
standing in the middle of his straddled legs and whispering in his ear. It
doesn’t really surprise me that much. Jenna has always been really flirty, but
I can’t help feeling the awkwardness and ache in my chest as I stare at them,
so I turn away and look back towards the stage.
    It’s a couple hours
into the night, Jenna looks like she’s having fun and that makes me happy more
than anything else. She did so much for me this summer and I owe her so much.
Actually, I owe her more than that... I owe her my life.
    I have to admit, in
a small way, I’m actually enjoying myself, too. What I enjoy the most is
watching the singers up on stage; a part of me envying them and another part of
me wishing that I had the desire to sing again. Better yet, wishing I had the
desire to do anything again.
    A tall guy with
tattoos and a shaved head finishes up his rendition of “Wanted Dead or Alive”
by Bon Jovi and the crowd goes wild. I feel my heart pick up speed from the
energy in the room and, without even having to try, a large grin spreads across
my face. He nods his head and takes a quick bow before exiting the stage. A
Pearl Jam song blares over the speakers and I know that I have a few minutes
before the next singer is up.
    “Bathroom!” I yell
over the music, looking over at Jenna.
    “I’ll go get us
another drink!” she yells back, bobbing her head to the music as she scoots out
of the booth.
    After fighting my
way through the crowds, I sigh when I see the line is overflowing out into the
hall but I’m not sure why I thought it would be any different. This is how it
always is at Sterling’s on open mic night. I take my place in line and lean
back up against the wall, listening to the energetic girls in front of me. They
are both tall, both have long, perfectly styled, blonde hair that hangs far
below their shoulders, and both of them are beautiful. On a good night, a night
when I actually tried to look good, I could’ve played in the same ballpark as
them, but tonight I would have barely been considered for the B leagues.
    “Did you see the
way Dean looked at me? I think he was undressing me with his eyes,” Barbie #1,
on the left, gushes.
    Barbie #2 nods her
head, way too many times. “Totally, you are so getting lucky with him tonight.”
    “Really, you think
I should sleep with him?” Barbie #1 asks, biting her lip. I want to roll my
eyes at her pitiful attempt to be clueless, but I refrain.
    “He’s hot, he’s in
med school, and you’ve been on three dates,” her friend answers, but quickly
follows up with, “but only if you’re ready.”
    Lord. If I ever had
a friend that listed any of those three reasons for me to sleep with a guy, I’d
likely kick