My Butterfly

my hand on top of hers.
    I felt her soft skin under mine, and I squeezed my fingers around hers. She stopped and sat back in her chair, as her eyes darted first toward her hand and then to my eyes.
    “Promise me you’ll come if I ever change my mind about the singing gig,” I whispered. “Promise you’ll come and listen to the rest of the song.”
    She looked a little caught off guard, of course. I would have too. I followed her eyes as they moved back and forth from my hand on hers to my eyes. And then, she smiled.
    “I promise,” she said, in almost a whisper.
    Then, she pushed up from her chair, slid her hand out from underneath mine and made her way back into the house.
    My body was frozen, but my eyes followed her into the kitchen. And I watched her through the glass as she set her drink into the sink and then made her way to the front door.
    I quickly got up then and scurried inside after her but stopped when she turned back toward me.
    “Thanks for tonight, Will,” she softly said.
    I forced a smile.
    “Don’t mention it,” I said.
    She held her gaze in mine for a moment, and then without another word, she turned and escaped back into the night on the other side of the door.

Chapter Twenty-Eight
    Deal
     
     
    “Y ou should sing—for people,” she said, through her pretty laughter.
    The sound of her laugh echoed off the walls in the empty room.
    I shook my head, but a smile lingered on my lips.
    “No, Will, I’m serious,” she said. “You should.”
    Her smile was soft and confident, but then it faded. And I watched as she turned and started to walk away.
    “Where are you going?” I asked.
    My smile had disappeared as well.
    “I have to go,” she said.
    I could hear a certain longing in her voice, as she stopped and faced me again.
    “Dreams don’t wait, Will,” she said, with a sad look in her eyes.
    “You’ll like it,” she assured me.
    I traced the features of her pretty face, as a smile slowly returned to life under her sad eyes.
    “And I’ll come back. I promise,” she said.
    Her gaze lingered in mine, and her longing stare made my heart crumble into a billion pieces. I didn’t know her thoughts, but I knew they carried with them some amount of sadness. I kept my eyes on the green in hers, until I blinked, and then she was gone.
    “Julia,” I yelled, running toward the door.
    I pulled on its knob when I reached it, but the door didn’t open. I pulled harder with both hands, but it still wouldn’t budge. I turned and thrust my back against its wooden surface. Then, I cradled my face within my hands out of frustration mixed with a pain that made my knees buckle. I felt my body slowly slide down the door then, and I sat there kneeling until a noise made me look up. It sounded as if something had just fallen to the floor, but nothing was there. Then all of a sudden, I noticed something. She must have dropped it. I picked myself back up and shuffled toward the object. It was a card—a business card. I read the name at the top : Jesse Sovine. Then, my eyes followed over the words below the name, but as I got to a word, its letters quickly disappeared, until the card was just blank, except for the name at the top. Then, suddenly, there were hundreds of the same card all raining down from heaven. I lifted my hand to shield my face from them. And as soon as I had, I noticed there was something else now on the card in my hand. I squinted my eyes in order to read the tiny text. Now, instead of the name, there was one, small sentence: I Promise.
    ...
    I turned my face over on my pillow and felt something hit my forehead. I quickly shifted again and then pulled the sheet up so that it was covering most of my face. A second later, I felt something else hit the top of my head. Then, I opened my eyes and saw a big peanut resting on the pillow next to me.
    “What the hell?” I exclaimed, as I quickly sat up.
    “Dude, are you going to sleep all day?”
    “What?” I asked, noticing Jeff in the doorway, a can of peanuts in one hand. The other hand was feeding handfuls of peanuts into his mouth. “What time is it?”
    I rubbed my eyes and searched for the glowing numbers on my alarm clock.
    “Umm, seven maybe,” he said.
    I shook my head and rubbed my eyes again.
    “Why are you in my house?” I asked.
    “Dude, I’ve been standing here trying to get you up for ten minutes now,” he said. “You sleep like a bear.”
    “Wha…,” I stuttered, still shaking my head.
    I