Killing Me Softly With His Song // Fugees

Me: Where are you?

Me: Can you talk?

I've called Jeff's phone so many times I've lost count. As soon as I got home from his practice, I started a mental countdown to when I figured he'd be alone. He has post practice therapy or ice baths, shower, driving that guy back home and then getting to campus. I figured 90 minutes was a safe estimate. I waited that long before I tried calling, but it went immediately to voice mail.

Not too unusual if he's studying or driving, so I didn't let it bother me. I waited another half hour, then called again.

Nothing.

Then I started texting. All of my texts say delivered, but not read. He's not checking them.

Now it's been an additional two hours and I'm going out of my mind. Every possible scenario has crossed my thoughts.

Were they in a car accident?

Did they go for dinner and his phone died?

Is Jeff ghosting me? Maybe he saw me. Maybe he's angry I was at his practice.

Maybe Reign knocked him out.

Or killed him.

In the rational side of my brain, I realize I'm showing signs of hysteria, but I can't help it. I'm worried. Since we started seeing each other, neither of us have gone this long without speaking unless we were asleep.

Me: Jeff I'm getting worried

It remains unread. It's too late to try to go find him. Besides, I don't even have a car. I can't afford one on my budget and everywhere I really need to go is within walking distance. I take the bus or a get a ride if I need to see my dad. Misty is more than willing to drive me around when she can. But its times like this that not having a car is a disaster. I end up falling asleep waiting for him to text or call back.

Sometime after midnight, my phone jars me awake. This time it's the buzz of a message, not a phone call. I sit up in a panic and check the notification.

Jeff: Sorry. Been busy. Talk later.

What the hell? He gives me a heart attack all evening and that's all I get? At this point, I deserve to hear his voice, and a better explanation than just that he's busy. I sit up straighter, my righteous indignation kicking in.

In fact, I deserve a face to face apology for the anxiety I've gone through. I get out of bed, pacing the room, while I start to call him back and demand more information.

I'm just about to hit the call button when I stop and try to do some breathing. I need to calm down first or I'm probably going to make everything worse. I shouldn't call him with guns blazing, ready for a showdown. He just took extra long to reply to me. It's not like he ghosted me for a week or something.

After breathing and thinking, I realize I'm overreacting. I know firsthand how grueling the season is. Guys are pulled in so many different directions. It's stressful and overwhelming, especially for a freshman. Jeff is still getting a handle on managing everything. College is a huge step up from high school. Even I've had to make adjustments and I'm only in online classes. Time management is a real thing, and some people don't have it.

But I know Jeff does. He's great at time management. Which must mean something else is going on. Maybe he's too tired to talk, which is understandable. Maybe he thinks I must already be asleep—which I should be—and he doesn't want to wake me up.

I walk back to my bed and put my phone on the nightstand. Then I crawl under the covers and will myself to sleep. It takes a while but eventually, I feel the heaviness take me under.

***

"Alison, show me your latest," Devon strolls into the room, the long fabric of her boho dress billowing with each step. "I sense strength emanating from your soul. I must have a look."

"You've been outside all afternoon." I continue sorting my latest prints as Devon comes to stand behind me. "How could you sense anything from my soul?"

"It does not take proximity. Just a deep connection. Of course, you and I have developed that from working on visual representations of our deepest thoughts."

I nod. This is true.

"What do you have here?" Devon leans over to inspect my prints.

"I was at the Fallbrook stadium yesterday, so I took some abstracts of the structure."

"Hmmm...were you upset when you took these?"

Her questions brings me up short. "What do you mean?" I look down at the print she's pointing to. Beams and rivets in varying degrees of shadow take up most of the image. Was my technique off?

"I sense stress looking at these. Each one is oozing with it."

"What?" These are inanimate objects. How in the world is she getting that?

Devon's long, thin finger indicates a small corner of light. "There is something about shadow and light that presents anxiety. You've only got this small section rather than most of the positive space. Essentially, your entire frame is filled with negative space. A negative mindset. Anxiety in this case."

I look closer with these points in mind. "I guess I can see what you mean. And I was stressed taking these, but I wasn't trying to portray it."

Devon claps her hands together loudly. "Imagine an entire wall of emotion." She stands silently for a few minutes. This is Devon's creative technique. When an idea hits her, she freezes in place and visualizes it from start to finish before moving forward.

"Yes, I can see it." Her hands rise to frame the air in front of her. "Brilliant. Let's see how this plays out."

"How what plays out?" I'm lost, which isn't a new experience in this internship.

"You could make your mark with this. Let's experiment with how the artist's emotion infuses through the subject. When you are feeling...well, any sort of way, grab your camera and shoot. Subject doesn't matter." Devon waves her hand in the air. "Then develop them right away, while in that emotion. I'm assuming you did that here?"

I'd just developed them this morning, and since I haven't really heard from Jeff about what was going on, I do still feel anxious.

"Yes, I guess I did."

"Excellent." Devon claps her hands together once more. "I'm looking forward to the result." With that, my mentor turns, her long skirt flowing behind her, and practically floats out of the workspace.

I sigh. I've been feeling big emotions with Jeff. The biggest. If I'm in my right mind, all of my photos will have some kind of lovey dovey theme. But the part that scares me the most is that Jeff has the power to bring all the emotions out of me. I know he could make me the happiest I've ever been. I know he could break my heart. I know he could make me madder than anyone else.

But something about the last couple of days has been worse than heartbreak and anger. I've been unsure, lost. Confused. Lack of security is surprisingly terrifying. The questions swirling in my mind have dragged my attention away from everything but my fears.

Is he ignoring me?

Does he still feel the way I do?

Am I only temporary?

And the one that kept me up last night after seeing my dad pair him up with the starting quarterback...

Is he only with me because of who my dad is?

Rationally, I know this is not possible. He didn't know who I was when I bumped into him at the concert. He couldn't have realized our connection while we spent time at that cabin. Not until I told him who I was.

But since then he could have been using that connection...

No. I give myself a mental shake. That isn't Jeff. Meeting my dad and hearing his stand on keeping things quiet would have given him the perfect out to walk away, but he didn't.

I refuse to believe Jeff is with my because my dad is his coach. I can't believe I even let that thought take form. I need an intervention, apparently.

Instead of wallowing in worry, I put it to use. I grab my camera and head out of the building, looking for images that catch my eye to capture on film and see if Devon's theory plays out.

Thirty minutes and a dozen shots later, I return to the studio to begin the developing process. Since Devon insists on using film, I'm limited in the shots I take. It's not the same sense of freedom to experiment that you get with digital formats, but I really do like this better. The mystery of the shots I've taken keeps me excited as I reveal the image during developing.

I'm about to get started when my phone rings. My heart races as I pull it out to check who's calling. I really should assign Jeff his own ring tone. I don't know why I haven't yet. But I'm crushed when I see it's a random number from an unknown caller.

I decide to answer anyway, incase it's Jeff related. Who knows, maybe he was in a car accident and the hospital is calling.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

I recognize the quiet voice immediately. It's Jeff.

"Where are you? Are you okay?

"Um, yeah. Why would you ask that?" His voice sounds off but I can't figure out how.

"Probably because I haven't heard from you in over twenty-four hours and you're calling from a strange number."

"Oh. Right. I'm using the dorm house phone. Mine died."

Instant relief hits me. At least that's a plausible explanation for the radio silence. Jeff runs so ragged he probably hasn't had time to charge it, or even a charger.

"But you're alright?" I still need to ask. "You seemed frustrated at practice yesterday."

Jeff is silent but even in the silence I detect something from him. Shock? I'm not sure, but it's charged enough to permeate through the phone.

"You...you were at practice?" He's whispering now.

"Yes. I had a bad feeling after talking to you, so Misty took me. Don't worry, I used it as a photography project. I've done stuff like that before, so it wasn't a big deal."

"Shit."

Jeff says it so quietly that I don't think he meant for me to hear, but I did.

"What's wrong?"

Jeff clears his throat. "Don't do that again."

My jaw drops. "What?"

"I have to go."

Again, I ask, "What?" This time more emphatically. "You leave me on pins and needles all night and day, and now you have to go?" What the fuck?

"Practice. Bye."

The phone call ends. I stand at the studio staring at my blank screen with my jaw still on the floor. I don't understand what happened, but I know I hate it. I close my mouth and grit my teeth. So fucking pissed.

Instead of developing the film I just took, I reload the camera with a new roll and stomp back out of the studio. I'm so mad, I decide to use it. I end up taking shots of the same subjects I took earlier when I was just worried.

Just worried. Who would have thought that would have been the preferred feeling, but here we are.

I adjust the aperture of the camera, allowing different levels of light to hit the film. I change the focus a few times. I squeeze the trigger on the camera firmly, searching for physical relief from the emotional turmoil. Not finding it.

Hours later I have a few dozen prints of cracks in the sidewalk, cars zooming by, piles of leaves, crumbled bricks and potholes. Devon takes a peek before I leave the studio, telling me she can see a morph of emotion within the two sets of prints. I don't talk to her about any of it, by her demand. Although I have nothing to say so staying silent isn't a problem. Later when I call Misty, I'm sure I'll vent every ugly feeling.

I pack up and leave for the day, drained from the shifting moods I've had all day. Worry is back. I don't even have energy to figure out what worries me more, his lack of communication or his Jekyll and Hyde mood swing.

Something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

Not long after I get home, my worst fear is confirmed. My heart feels wrecked, like he really did break it.

Jeff: This isn't working for me anymore.

All the words I thought I'd spill to Misty dry up. Instead, I cry my pain into my pillow. I'll talk to her tomorrow.

Oops. Late update but at least I made it for Saturday! We can call this one Sucky Saturday because yeah, this chapter sucks. I hated putting Alison through this. And I'm not positive if part 9 will start with her in the aftermath, or with Jeff so you can get in his head...

Anyway, I heard this song driving home one day and remembered how much I loved singing along and feeling depressed while doing so and decided this was definitely an Alison song. It fits pretty perfectly here, don't you think? I PROMISE ITS NOT WHAT YOU THINK!!

Jeff is still my cinnamon roll and will remain as such. If you recall in All There Is, he brooded for a long time. Now you'll be finding out why!

On a side note, I'm posting Camping With Travis on TikTok, one chapter at a time, and now it has music! I never made a playlist for that one but I'm having fun choosing songs. One post has almost 9k view and still growing 🥰 You can find me  as CynthiaAnnAuthor over there.

https://youtu.be/H-RBJNqdnoM

Broken Promises is actually rolling close to the end of the writing process! I will let you know ASAP when there's an ARC sign up if any of you would like an advanced copy to leave an Amazon/Goodreads review...