My Butterfly

said. “I could give you a wave or something if I see her.”
    “A wave,” I repeated. “That sounds great.”
    A smile slid across my face.
    “You ready, Will?” I heard Matt call out from behind us then.
    I looked up at Matt and then back at Alex.
    “Thanks, Alex,” I said, patting him on the shoulder.
    He smiled and then tucked the photo into his shirt pocket.
    “Anytime, Will,” he said.
    I watched Alex shuffle down the steps and then off the platform before I returned my attention to Matt.
    “Time to go already?” I asked.
    He found my eyes and nodded his head.
    “It’s time,” he said.
    “All right,” I replied, taking in a deep, anxious breath and then slowly exhaling. “Here goes everything.”
    The corners of Matt’s mouth started to edge up his face.
    “Go get her,” he said, as he rested his hand on my shoulder.
    I found his stare one, last time, smiled and then took my first step onto the stage.
    The buzz of the crowd grew louder the closer I got to the microphone. And when I reached its stand, I paused and took a second to look out over the packed field. People wrapped around the little stage and extended back about a football field’s length. I breathed in the familiar smell of aging maples and autumn air and breathed out a smile.
    “How are ya doin’, New Milford?” I shouted then. “Home, finally,” I said, throwing my head back and extending my arms to the heavens.
    The crowd cheered even louder. I took another moment to take it all in. There was nothing like coming home.
    ...
    Each song was a high on the outside, but on the inside, I was more anxious than I had ever been. Every moment, I craved her. I wanted so badly to know if she was in the crowd. I kept glancing up at Alex, but so far, there had been no wave.
    I positioned my fingers on the strings of my guitar again and squared up to the microphone. It was the last song before the encore, and my heart had already begun to beat uncontrollably against the walls of my chest. Eventually, I heard the melody start, and as if it were pure instinct, the first words of the song fell off my tongue. Then, suddenly, I thought I saw a wave. I forced my lips to keep moving to the words, even as I made my way over to the other side of the stage to get a better look at Alex. I had to be sure.
    It was only a few steps to the edge of the platform, but it had felt like a lifetime. I squinted my eyes, trying my best to block out the bright lights. Then, I saw him. And sure enough, there was his skinny, little arm waving in the air. I smiled wide, which caused the next words out of my mouth to come out labored. The jumbled words made me laugh a little and forced me to lose some of the following words too, but it didn’t seem to matter. The crowd only cheered louder and even seemed to join me in my laughter. I tipped my hat to Alex, then slightly turned until I could see Matt on the keys behind me. Immediately, he caught my gaze and sent me a wide smile. I knew he could tell what was going on.
    The song came to an end moments later, and suddenly, the stage grew dark—our cue to exit. I hurried off the platform and to the back of the trailer.
    “Well, it all comes down to this,” I heard Matt say, as he came up behind me and placed his hand on my shoulder.
    I sucked in a deep breath and then quickly forced it out, as a smile found its way to my face.
    “You ready?” Matt asked.
    I met his stare, then slowly nodded my head.
    “After you then,” he said, gesturing me out onto the stage again.
    I took one, last deep breath. Then, I made my way to the microphone for the last time that night. The crowd was loud. Some people were clapping; some were cheering; and every once in a while, there was a whistle or a shout.
    My walk to the center of the stage was slow and calculated. I could barely see my hands through the black that filled the stage. And if it weren’t for the little lights near the edge of the platform, I was pretty sure I would have fallen flat on my face.
    I eventually reached the stool sitting behind the microphone stand, which was front and center on the stage. I leaned against it and propped one leg onto its rung. Then, I took the mic out of its stand and moved the stand over to my side. I heard Matt back on the piano pulling a bench closer to the keys. And the next thing I knew, he was giving a count. I closed my eyes and lowered my head. Then, the piano solo began moments later, and an instant hush crept over the