Bayou Stix Series: Bayou Stix Limited Edition Box Set Read Online Free PDF Page B

to check on Erik. He’s on the couch texting with a big smile on his face, so I’m guessing I really didn’t ruin his night.
    I walk back into my bathroom and brush my teeth before crawling into bed. It’s been a long, exhausting day and I know things are not going to get any easier as long as Jude is in town. I stare at the ceiling and try to figure out a plan for dealing with things in my head.
    Before I get too comfortable, I find myself slithering out of bed and onto my floor. I move things around under my bed, until I find what I’m looking for.
    I pull out the dusty box and brush off the top. Then I simply look at it for awhile. Eventually, I just decide to open it. The box is filled with notes, old journals, ticket stubs, and photos. So many photos. I slowly start to pull things out.
    As I look through the photos, I can’t help but smile. There are so many, and in most of them, it’s three smiling faces: Erik, Jude, and me. It’s almost as if they are a series of screenshots from the movie of our lives. They start out with us as kids, some in diapers, and we’re always together. I can clearly see when Erik started to fill out and when I went from awkward, gangly teen to young woman. What I’ve never noticed before though is how you can plainly see when my feelings for Jude started to change. In the photos around the time I’m thirteen, I’m no longer looking at the camera and smiling. I’m looking at Jude and smiling while he and Erik are looking at whoever has the camera. When I’m sixteen, the longing on my face is so obvious. I’m kind of embarrassed.
    But then, around the time I’m seventeen, the photos change again. It’s no longer the three of us all smiling together, or me staring dreamily at Jude. In these photos, Jude and I are looking at each other with our arms wrapped around one another, smiling while Erik looks on. His happiness at our being together is evident, or he’s smiling at the camerawhile Jude and I are engrossed in each other. In most of the photos of Jude and me alone, Erik is the one taking the photo.
    The last picture, the photo at the very bottom of the box, the one that is wrinkled and worn from handling it so much, is just of the two of us. Our arms are wrapped around each other. His guitar is lying on the ground at our feet and he’s holding the band’s recording contract in his hand. He’s smiling his trademark smile at the camera and you can see the joy on his face. He’s holding me so tightly there’s not a centimeter of space between our bodies. And on my face, on my face is a smile, but also in my eyes, there’s a hint of fear.
    Before I know it, the tears are once again rolling down my face, and my heart is hurting for all that I’ve lost. Hurting for the happy kids in those photos. Hurting because for all I’ve said and for as many years as have passed, I’m still the same girl I was in those photos. The same girl who was hopelessly in love with a boy. The same girl whose heart has always and will always belong to Jude Delecroix.
    With that realization, I lay on the floor, holding the photo; the photo that was the beginning of the end, and cry myself to sleep.

    Jude
    I’m not sure what time it is. It has to be late. Or early, depending on how you view it.
    I’ve been under our tree for hours just staring at the stars and listening to the barges pass along the river. I’ve never been that guy who talks about his feelings. I sing about my feelings. It’s my passion, my escape. And people listen. People can relate to my music. With everything flowing through my head right now, I’m wishing I had my guitar and a notebook. I think I could write another hit album.
    I’ve written so many songs about her, about Lexi. But I doubt she knows. People assume they know, but they don’t. Everyone thinks they know me, but the truth is no one really knows me. No one outside of the band. Not anymore. They think the guy on TV and in the magazines is who I am, but