My Butterfly

me was shouting no, as I stumbled onto Julia’s eyes again.
    “Go,” she whispered, so softly that I was sure Taylor couldn’t hear it.
    “The next one?” I asked her.
    Jules smiled.
    “Next time,” she said.
    I hesitated. There was something in her voice that made me feel as if there wouldn’t be a next time. A sudden sadness took hold of my chest then and squeezed it tight. I almost told Taylor that I couldn’t leave Julia, but I didn’t. Julia was happy; I could tell. And there was a part of me that wondered if my interference would somehow shatter that happiness.
    I reluctantly returned my gaze to Taylor. She shot me a wide grin, and then I slowly lifted myself up from the bench. But when I was on my feet again, I turned back and met Jules’s eyes one, last time. She smiled her beautiful smile, and I tried my best to force a smile too. Then, I begrudgingly followed Taylor to the dance floor.
    ...
    The song ended, and immediately, I searched the faces on the dance floor for Julia. I didn’t see her, but I did see Rachel.
    “Rach, have you seen Jules?” I asked, when I got close enough for her to hear me.
    Rachel turned and met my eyes.
    “She had to go,” Rachel said. “She’s got an early flight tomorrow—gotta get back to her big-city life. She doesn’t have time for us small-townies anymore.”
    She elbowed my arm and giggled.
    “God love her,” she went on. “Maybe she’ll take me with her next time.”
    She eyed her boyfriend and deviously smiled.
    Jon stared at her for a second. Then, without warning, he shrouded her in a big bear hug and squeezed her close to his side
    “You’re not going anywhere,” he said.
    Rachel giggled again and then dramatically sighed.
    “Maybe another life then,” she said, staring back up at me.
    I tried to force a smile, but in the end, I just didn’t have the strength. Everything in me was focused on Julia and on the one thought that was swirling endlessly around in my mind: How could I have let her get away again?

Chapter Thirty
    One Step
     
     
    “I s this the first time you boys have ever been inside a recording studio?” the thin man asked in a half-serious, half-joking tone.
    We all looked at each other.
    “Yes, sir,” I eventually said, nodding my head.
    “Okay, well, you ready to record a song then?” he asked.
    “Yeah,” Chris excitedly yelled.
    The rest of us only nodded our heads and smiled wide.
    “All right, let’s do it,” he said. “Drums first.”
    We each took turns recording our own tracks, until it finally came to the vocals.
    I stood there playing with the big headphones that threatened to engulf both sides of my head. I couldn’t hear anything in them except for the thin man’s voice, which would muffle through every once in a while.
    My eyes eventually turned down, and I caught a glimpse of metal peeking out from in between my fingers. Her guardian angel was tightly pressed against my palm.
    “Okay, Will,” I heard the man’s voice again. “I’m going to start the track.”
    I looked through the glass to where the thin man was sitting and nodded my head.
    A few seconds later, the music trickled through the big headphones, and I slowly brought my lips to the funny-looking microphone. I felt the words then grow in my stomach and then climb into my chest. They stayed there for a moment and then finally fell from my lips one by one—just like they had a hundred times before:

“I’m famous in this small town
For a ghost I cannot shake
They all know I’m talkin’ to you
But of it—I don’t think they know what to make

But they don’t see what I see
They don’t see you dance on the river walk,
Underneath the street lamps
With those stars in your eyes

They don’t see you
Lying next to me
Tellin’ me your dreams,
Planted somewhere up in those big skies

No, they don’t see what I see
Because I see
A rainstorm in June
Just before the sun
The black of night
Just before the stars
And, girl, I see your ghost
Just before our dawn

And tonight I’ll see you again
Just like every night before
But they don’t see what I see
What I see is more

Because I see
A rainstorm in June
Just before the sun
The black of night
Just before the stars
And, girl, I see your ghost
Just before our dawn

And, girl, I see your ghost
Just before our dawn.”
 
    My lips hovered in front of the microphone as the last words of the ballad hit the black mesh and disappeared. But the music still