Who You Are

twelve | to help fix your soul.

School the next day was as uneventful as it could get. Kade wasn't there, Molly was off with Zander, Grace had an early appointment so she left at lunch and the boys were too busy talking about the last football game. Not that I can complain too much, the quiet was good for my soul. I was surrounded by people but not expected to engross myself I'm their conversations. Dahlia ignored me for the most part, I mean, I got a few glares and eye rolls but that's the extent.

My dad was set to return home in 6 days. And I juggle between being excited and nervous. Greta can sense my hesitation, and sends me lots of encouragement. I still can't shake the feeling that he won't like what he sees when he does see me.

I just have to keep telling myself that we'll cross that bridge when the time comes.

The bell signals the end of the day, and I'm happy to gather my things and head outside to meet Greta. Dodging people is hard, somehow someone brushes up against me every three feet I make it and I shudder each time, but it's becoming more bare able. The front doors release me to freedom and I'm surprised to find that it's not Greta waiting for me. But Kade.

He smiles his beautiful smile and grabs my bag from my shoulder before opening my door.

"Have a good day?" he asks softly.

I nod. "What about Greta?"

"I took care of it, she knows I'm here to get you," he replies. He's patiently waiting for me to get in, and once I do he shuts the door with a soft slam. With a quick throw of my bag into the backseat he gets in and buckles his seat belt, pushing his sunglasses down to the bridge of his nose. "Ready to go?" he asks.

"Where are we going?"

"Places love. Just sit back and enjoy the ride," he replies. I blush at the love endearment and settle into my seat. The scene flashes by so quickly once we get on the freeway that I can hardly guess where we're headed.

He pulls off the exit and slides his way down twists and turns before pulling up to a vintage music shop. With a smile my way, and an eyebrow raise his way, he turns off the truck and opens his door to exit. I stupidly follow suit. I take a peak around since this is the first time I've been around this area and I can't help but look on in amazement. All of the buildings around here are dilapidated and beautiful. They show that life was lived and stories were made.

They show heart in each c***k and crevice. They show pride in each paint chip and artwork.

They show beauty in all meanings of life as it has everything you could ever need.

The music shop sits right beside a small diner, and on the other side of that is a bookstore. A bookstore I want to bury my face in for hours upon hours. And I haven't even seen the inside. A waterfall sits in a small promenade with people littered about along the benches and grass.

Kids play in the streets, and parents entertain each other with soulful music and laughter that's endless. They breathe differently here.

They thrive different here, and I am so enraptured I don't feel the way his hand snakes through mine. Or the way his other brushes a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Amazing, right." he says, not taking his eyes from my face. I blink at him a few times before I can even register what he's said. And again, I blush.

"It's beautiful," I breathe. He smiles at me before tugging me inside Gino's. The music shop I admired. The bell above the door dings to signal our arrival and a voice from the back yells a simple 'be right there'.

Kade let's go of my hand as I walk around, running my fingers over all the instruments that lace the walls. I breathe in the scent of music. Does music have a scent? If it did, that's what I'd be inhaling. It's metallic and powerful. Like a whole world exists in the notes you produce. I vaguely hear voices as I continue to brush across the whole store. Pictures line the walls, some of musician's and some of just regular people holding a guitar or a violin or drum sticks as they stand beside the same guy through them all.

"This must be her?" a strong voice asks. I look to my right and see a tall, stocky man with graying hair and dimples along his wrinkled cheeks looking at me with a smile. He's the same guy from the pictures and he's standing with a hand on Kade's shoulder. I look between them and notice a bit of a resemblance. They must notice that I notice.

"This is Willow, and Willow, this is my uncle Gino," Kade says, reaching for my hand again. I go willingly.

Gino smiles brightly, "well she's far more beautiful than you described!"

My face burns and I have to look down. "Hello," I reply softly. He laughs a boisterous laugh and pats Kade on the back.

"Hello dear, it's so nice to finally meet you. Kade hasn't shut up since you fell into his arms," Gino says. Kade blushes alongside me, running his hand along the back of his neck as he does. Gino nods towards the back of the store where the counter sits. "I have just what you wanted over here."

I look at Kade with question, but he just smirks and drags me towards the counter. Gino reaches behind and handles a guitar. Probably the most beautiful guitar I have ever seen. The beck is a dark mahogany color and the base is a deep stained grey with beautiful bold wood grains.

I gasp at the sight. Kade smiles and takes it from him before walking towards me. I look up from the guitar and see happiness in his eyes. It's mesmerizing. He grabs my hands and places the beautiful instrument in them.

"Wh-wh-what is this?" I stutter, holding it with the most gentle touch.

"It's to help you fix your soul," he replies. He's still smiling, but it's a softer smile. A smile that shows how much he understands. His eyes are tender. Water gathers behind mine and I'm more speechless than I've ever been in my entire life.

He understands. Of course he does. Because he takes if from me and gathers me in his arms. With my face buried in his chest, soft tears trail down my face and I breathe him in. My arms wrap softly around him. Reveling in the comfort the provides as my mind tries to catch up.

"I don't know how to play," I mumbles into his shirt.

He hums. "I'll teach you"

"I'll probably suck," I reply.

He chuckles. "Not likely."

I smile, lifting my face to look at his. "I don't know what to say,"

He smiles again, and pops his index finger on my nose "Most people say thank you,"

I laugh, and see his smile widen. "Thank you. It's beyond beautiful." I look to where he rested it against the counter. Taking in the entirety of it. It has Firefly engraved on the bottom right of it and my heart swells. One day I'll have to ask him why he calls me that. But for now, I'm just going to revel in the fact that he cared so much he bought me a guitar.

"Anything for you," he says. He doesn't even realize that I didn't need the guitar to help fix my soul. I just needed him.