Eleven Eleven

Caught Up In You

I had been awake for less than ten minutes when I received a call from my boss the next morning. Max's name flashing across my screen wasn't exactly the wake up call I was expecting, but it was enough to get me up and across the room in a heartbeat.

"Hello?" I said into the receiver, scratching at my bed hair angrily. My dark locks looked as if a bird had just took residency inside them.

"I want a full explanation as to why you didn't care to mention you spent yesterday evening with the members of Eleven Eleven." Max demanded.

I had no doubt he was eagerly waiting for me to dish the details of last night. "I didn't think it was important."

He chuckled. "Didn't think it was important? Willow, do you not see the opportunity that has been handed to us on a silver platter?"

I stepped in front of the mirror hung over my dresser in the corner of the room, staring down my reflection.

I looked as I felt; likd I'd been hit by a truck continuously. My eyes were rimmed red from sleeplessness and crying, and stared back at me with a dull and lifeless look in them.

"Willow?" my bosses voice stirred me from my daze.

"Max, I don't know what story you think I might have, but I can promise you nothing will come out of this from my end." I answered indirectly.

He cleared his throat. "Willow, you have three months to get me a story I can't turn down. One that would be good enough to send to Rolling Stone. This is a chance of a lifetime, a story of a lifetime."

My eyes fell on the small photo taped to the edge of my mirror. It was an old picture of Xander and me at his tenth birthday party. He was surrounded by presents, each delicately wrapped by my small fingers. I had paper cuts from the day for months following it. He sat on the middle cushion of the ugly old leather couch in his living room, a guitar on his lap. I was beside him, my fingers pressed on a fret at the exact moment the picture had been taken. The photo had been one of the few I hadn't thrown away because of the smile Xander wore in it.

He had looked happier than I'd ever seen him and it was a memory I didn't want to let go of.

"I'll see what I can do, Max." I responded flatly. "I'll keep you up to date. I have to go."

I ended the call and set my phone on the dresser, pushing my palms into the rounded corners as I forced my head back up.

"You can't do it, Willow." I whispered to myself. I leaned over the desk and brushed my finger along the photo, my index finger curling around the edge. "You can't hurt him more than you already are."

Dropping my hand back against the hard top of the dresser, I turned my back to my reflection and headed straight for the bathroom.

*

My opinion of a great first day of summer vacation consisted of lounging on the couch all day and binging my favorite TV shows. Unfortunately, Ryan Flynn and Mason Carter had different take and were insistent on destroying my peaceful summer.

A loud horn disturbed the peace a little after noon. I waited until it sounded again to drag myself off the couch and toward the front door. I groaned in response to the sudden appearance of a sleek black RV parked in my driveway.

"Seriously?" I grumbled, tying my robe and stepping onto the front porch. Mason poked his head around the fender and waved enthusiastically.

"Willow, hey!" he jogged up the stone path leading to me. "How do you like my new ride?"