🎵 "I Try" - Macy Gray

🎵 "Don't Speak" - No Doubt

__________

BONUS TRACK

"I Try" - Macy Gray

"We will be having a little girl talk with those pancakes, missy," I heard Kody accusingly whisper to Emma. He must have assumed that I dozed off. "I know when I have been left out of a loop."

"That is her decision, not mine," Emma stated matter-of-factly. I heard the faint clicking of a dial being turned, and No Doubt's "Don't Speak" played a little more loudly through the car speakers.

"What are you doing?!" Kody whisper-shouted. "She just fell asleep." I could sense the smirk that Emma wore. She knew that I wasn't there yet, but also once again knew what I needed without having to tell her. She decided to placate Kody with an explanation, though.

"I always found music to be therapeutic," she began. "It helps me to replay all of the nitty-gritty details of a particular moment, and how I was feeling in that moment. It allows me to reflect on what I said or did, or maybe what I could have said or done differently. I can push REPEAT if I want to relish in it, PAUSE if I need a moment, or SKIP if it's too much. We're similar in that respect, Aria and me. While music makes me dance, it makes her sing. We may not always like it, but we always need it. It helps us to remember, to feel, to reflect, and to cope. It's like having a personal playlist for the crazy mixtape that is life..."

A soft alarm sounded, causing me to open my eyes to the present and stop recollecting my past. I blinked up at the ceiling of the little office that I lay in. Through the cracked window, I could hear the screeching of tires and several voices shouting profanities. The sulfuric stench of downtown faintly hit my nostrils, but it was a welcoming smell. It was home.

After all, when you need to go looking for the truth, the best place to start is at the beginning. My beginning had started with my junior year of high school, when I returned to Bridgeview... when I returned to Noah.

"Anyway," I said before rising to a sitting position on the worn couch. I cleared my throat and met the kind eyes of my therapist. He held out a tissue box, and I grabbed one to dry my wet eyes. "That's why I thought maybe the music might help."

"It was a great idea," he agreed as he rose from his chair and walked over to the stereo on his bookshelf. "I felt like you were able to open yourself fully this time," he added while he ejected the CD and returned it to its case.

I nodded slightly and stood up as well. He held the CD out for me to take. My fingers touched the case, and I glanced down at the familiar scribbled handwriting on the surface. I sighed without fully realizing it, causing my therapist to lower his head to demand my attention again.

He smiled warmly at me. "I look forward to the next volume."

__________

⭐ We had ZERO clue how crazy this endeavor was going to be when we first started this journey, but luckily, we had each other to see it through. A HUGE shoutout to our editor, friends, and family, who all supported us through the many ups and downs that we faced along the way. And to you, dear readers, who this would not be possible without. We cannot thank you enough for sticking with us. So here's a STAR for YOU! ⭐🥰

Loved the story and want a copy of your own? Check out MIXTAPE: Volume One on Amazon: https://a.co/d/0uvkSkw

Don't forget to grab MIXTAPE: Volume Two (https://a.co/d/8U04hYR) and MIXTAPE: Volume Three (https://a.co/d/8exdR0f) while you are there!

Want the latest information on everything E.S. Rosalynn and what project we're working on next? Follow us on Facebook and Instagram (esrosalynn for both!) and check out our website (www.esrosalynnwrites.com).