The Hush Society Presents... by Izzy Matias (best desktop ebook reader .txt) 📕

"I told them I was grateful that they had adopted me, but the pressure was just soul-sucking, you know? I had no time for art or music…the things I live for."

"You were adopted?"

"Yeah. I’ve heard a number of stories about adopted children feeling resentful, but I’m thankful. In their own strict way, I know they care. I just couldn’t be who I wasn’t. And after I learned I was adopted, I questioned everything."

We’re walking side by side, our hands bumping into each other every now and then. I resist the urge to grab her hand even if I can feel this pulsating energy when our fingers brush against each other. I stare at her hand, tempted to make a move.

When her elbow bumps into mine, my mind blanks and before I know it, I’m holding onto her finger. I don’t get time to process how it feels. Just as quickly I let my impulse to hold her take over, she pulls away.

"Cameron." Her voice is squeaky.

"Yes."

She clears her throat. "Please don’t go there."

I let go, as if a shock of energy pulls us apart.

"Okay." I try not to let my disappointment be evident in my tone. I guess it’s true, then.

"Thanks."

Embarrassed at her outright rejection, I don’t have the courage to ask her about her no-musicians rule. Instead, I go back to our previous topic.

"So, uh, do you know who your birth parents are?"

"No," she says with a quieter tone. "I’m not ready for that yet. I don’t know if I even want to know…Of course, I wonder why they gave me up and all that, but I’m trying to be content with where I am and who I want to be."

There are so many things I want to know about her. I’m glad we have the rest of the tour to get to know each other. Then maybe have more courage to ask her why she doesn’t date musicians. There are so many things I still don’t know. I shouldn’t rush it. Maybe what’s best for both of us is to be each other’s friend.

"Well if you do decide to seek them out," I say, "you’ll have a support group behind you. And you can count me in as part of that group." I nudge her left shoulder with my right as if to emphasise my point and add a touch of banter in our serious conversation. I don't know if she can see me smiling in the dark.

"Thank you."

"Anytime."

"Okay, mister," Cassie says with a more playful tone. I’m relieved that she doesn’t make a massive deal out of me wanting to hold her hand. Nor does she make it awkward. "My turn to ask thought-provoking questions." The way she phrased that reminds me of Judy and Nate, fellow DJs at URadio.

We enter a narrow dirt path and—yes!—the waves crash in the distance. We must be going the right direction.

"Shoot," I say with my hands up in the air. "What do you wanna know?"

"What made you pick up and learn the guitar?"

"You weren’t kidding when you said thought-provoking." I laugh. This gal’s going deep.

"We’re past all that shallow small talk. This is the fun part."

The breeze is cool for a summer day probably because the sun isn’t out yet. The world seems quiet and peaceful when everyone’s asleep. I love it this way. I glance at Cassie—I can just make out a hint of a smile; I can tell she loves these kind of conversations, but somehow she doesn’t make them feel too heavy. On the contrary, with her, these topics feel freeing.

"Being an athlete was out of the question," I tell her, "since I was horrible at football. I had to think of the next best thing to reel in all the gals. Musician’s charm, yeah?"

"Pfft!" Cassie laughs. "I don’t get that arrogant musician vibe from you."

So why’d you shoot me down? I want to ask, but don’t. "I keep it on a down low. You haven’t seen us play a gig yet now have you?"

"Fair play," she says.

"I guess it was because of Benji’s dad," I admit. "We were at one of his rock band’s reunion tours and I saw him play. All I knew was that I wanted to be like him and do what he did."

I pause to do a fiery, air guitar solo impression whilst head banging.

Cassie bursts into laugher.

"Eric, Benji and I would spend almost every weekend rummaging through all the music shops in Beverley looking for our next favourite band. We’d shut ourselves in either Eric or Benji’s house and play our instruments the whole day. When we were fourteen, we joined proper bands, contests, and eventually played at pubs when we were old enough."

"No wonder the chemistry between you guys is organic."

Our path leads us straight to the shoreline. I’ve no idea if we’re near the pier, but the waves crash near us and the strong saline breeze surrounds us as we venture near the dark water in the distance.

"Benji’s a natural—his dad was in a famous rock band in America before he and his wife settled in Beverley, so he’s been playing since he was little. For Eric, drumming was his way of getting through a tough time. I admire how he channeled his negativity into something positive like music. In a way, they influenced me now that I think about it. If I had grown up with different friends, I’d probably still be into music, but not as much as this."

I can’t believe she’s gotten me to monologue. I’m a chatty lad—that's what a stint with radio does—and it feels good to be intellectually stimulated with conversations like these. That’s why I said yes to radio even if it was out of my comfort zone. Even if I was terrified of making a right mess of myself live on air.

"Really? Somehow I’d like to think you’d still be you." Cassie plops herself on the pebbles. I think back to how Cassie’s eyes went wide and her face touched