Paper Airplane

24

                When I got home, I greeted my parents and noticed that they must have taken the tent down while both Brady and I were away.  For a moment, I frowned, wishing I had gotten a picture of it first or something, but being upset over it for even a second was silly.

                My bed never felt so amazing when I lowered myself onto it, not bothering to slide under the covers.  My pillow seemed softer, the comforter felt cooler, and it all smelt fresher.  A small smile spread onto my face as I closed my eyes, burying my face further into the plushness of my pillow. 

                I was only asleep for forty-five minutes when my phone vibrated.

                Received:  Where you at? –Harry

                With one eye opened, I frowned. 

                Sent:  Be there in a bit, be patient.

                Received:  Don’t be mean. See you soon! –Harry

                I didn’t hesitate to return to my former state.  However, before lowering my head back onto my pillow, I turned my phone on silent.

                When I woke, it wasn’t because my nap was finished.  It was because my brother, who has returned from wherever he was today, inconsiderately hopped onto the end of my bed, shaking the entire frame and jostling me awake.  I propped myself up by my elbows and scowled in his general direction, squinting through one eye.  “Brady.”

                “It’s finished.”

                “What is?”

                I noticed now, after squeezing my eyes shut and trying to open them again, that he had a small boom box in his lap, and he was popping a disc into it. 

                “The song,” he answered, obviously expecting me to not only know what he was talking about but to return the same level of excitement he possessed, even in my half-asleep state.

                “What song?” I mocked.  “You have a ton of them.  One from the new album?”

                “How about the one that brought you guys down here.”

                And then, unfamiliar music began to play.  First it was an acoustic guitar, accompanied next by the delicate sounds of a grand piano, and shortly after, the beat of African drums.  There was hardly enough time for me to decide on whether or not I enjoyed the intro before Brady’s familiar voice rang out above the music.

                “It’s been so long.  I miss your smile.  I miss the way you danced around your room at night.”

                I was surely awake now.

                “It’s been so long.  I hear your voice.  It was like yesterday, you were just one of the boys.”

                Brady was watching me, but I stared at the boom box.  It was an ugly purple.

                “You were just like me, how could I not see?  How could I just leave you on your own?  I’ve made my choice, but I have my voice, and I’ll use it to let you know…”