Like Yesterday

3rd ♬

My face flushed in return, embarrassed.

In my dreams, I had imagined this situation countless of times before. I always wondered what it would be like to speak to him for the first time. But the moment that it actually happened, all the lines I had thought of saying disappeared to nowhere, and my mind was plain blank. I even lost the ability to speak. All I could feel was my heart that was thumping wildly in my chest, and my inner self that was screaming in joy. I was too rattled that I just kept on fiddling with my fingertips.

"You're... kind of interesting," Jace said to me, a moment after, shaking his head a little and holding that well-kept smile on his face.

"Hi," I muttered under my breath, instantly scolding myself for even saying that. Out of all the things to say, I couldn't believe that I just said that.

"Oh, hi," Jace answered back, a bit confused. Of course, he would be. But regardless, he was polite enough to respond to my senseless statement. "You live next door, right?"

I just nodded. I still couldn't believe that we were having more than a mere hi and bye conversation, setting aside the fact that he knew that I lived next door. Okay, so we got introduced when my mom and I greeted them, but this was different. He was actually having some kind of conversation with me.

"Well, I guess I'll see you more often, then," he suggested.

I nodded once more.

"My mom told me that your name's Reese. I'm Jace, by the way," he casually said, extending his hand to me.

I was out of breath, so I wasn't able to respond to him. But I did manage to grab his strong, calloused hand and shook it for a moment. I swear, at that time, I promised myself that I would never wash my right hand again.

He also said goodbye, I think, before heading his way. And that was the day when the unimaginable had happened. That was our memorable first conversation that kept me awake all night for the next few weeks.

He had talked to me. Jace Hamilton was now aware of my existence. All those coming to their performances had paid off. He definitely knew that somewhere in this crazy town, a girl named Reese Burnett lived.

Those were the things that had been running inside my head at that time. The old me at that point was overjoyed with all that: first impression, first talk, and confirmation of existence.

But now, I regretted that I'd chosen to remember everything, why I kept on dumbly repeating his words to myself that day, imprinting it in my thoughts. Every word, syllable and intonation he used, I made sure that my mind would remember it all. It surely wasn't helping the situation now.

I should have let it pass by, just like any other memory. 'Cause if that was what had happened, I wouldn't be this miserable now, constantly thinking about him, with every detail deeply embedded in my mind.

I put down my purse and phone on my desk. Any reminder of the past must be thrown away if I were to counter attack him efficiently. I couldn't afford getting distracted by this guitar. Grasping the guitar in my right hand, I clasped it tight as I went down the stairs. My entire family threw me skeptical looks, probably figuring out what I was up to.

Without a word, I went outside, standing in front of the huge, blue trash bin. It was open and I tried peeking inside. The smell reeked, and I instinctively pinched my nose. Moving back a little, I created a breathable gap between me and the deadly trash bin.

I sighed.

It was no use. Beanie, my baby guitar, would hate me if I'd place her in a place as dirty as this. But she knew that I had to get her out of my life. It would be easier that way. I'd had too much of holding on to those memories.