Motorcycle Girl: Book Two

Chapter 12: Bitter Reminiscing

Listen to the song on the side if you haven't already!
I changed the lyrics a little for the story but just a little bit

_____

Nathan

The next morning, I was watching the only person that can possibly make me happy.

Opal, my two year old niece.

She's dancing around the living room in one of Matthew's t-shirts.

Being sober makes it hurt so much more than when I was drunk.

She's humming a song and it sounds familiar but I can't put my finger on it.

I glance at Odeletta from across the living room. She's sitting between her parents in a pair of black skinny jeans and a red long sleeve shirt. Her legs are crossed over one another, her right leg bouncing.

It's something she's always done.

She's scrolling through her phone looking frustrated.

"Uncle Nathan?" Opal pokes my knee. I look at her.

"Yes?"

"Will you sing that song you sang in the park? I really like it!"

"Opal, no." Peyton says immediately. "No."

"Aww, but Mommy why?" She whines.

"Nathan, you don't have to do that." Matthew shakes his head.

I look at my niece who is pleading with me with those big blue eyes. Her blonde hair falls in her face and she raises her tiny hand to push it back.

"I'll sing it." I decide.

Everyone looks shocked, except for Odeletta, who's still scrolling through her phone. My heart clenches.

I can't believe it's been almost two weeks.

With the pain in my heart in mind, I go my parents room and get the guitar my Dad uses on occasion, going back downstairs.

I tune it carefully.

"Don't feel forced to do this." Peyton says quietly. "I know it's painful."

I wave her off. When the guitar is tuned, I look at my niece who is practically bouncing with excitement.

I take a deep breath to prepare my heart for this pain, and then I start to strum.

When the moment comes, I swallow the lump in my throat and start singing.

If you asked me...who is she?

Well that's a list a mile long.

I'll tell you...about her

But I might go on and on...

She's a yellow pair of running shoes

A holey pair of jeans

She looks great in cheap sunglasses

She looks great in anything

She's: "I want a piece of chocolate."

"Take me to a movie."

She's: "I can't find a thing to wear."

Now and then she's moody

She's a motorcycle on the road

With her brown hair a-blowing

A soft place to land