"As Fate Would Have It": Chapter 2

If this is for the best, why are you still in my heart?

It just isn’t right, I’ve been two thousand miles … Down a dead-end road

= Saturday 04 March 2000 =

The girls settled into their seats as the plane taxied down the runway of Newark Airport. Laurel made herself as comfortable as possible, knowing that she would have several hours of thinking time until they landed in Tulsa.

"I still can’t believe you talked me into this," she turned to face Hayley, who was leaning across her lap to stare out the window.

"Don’t start that again. We both know that you wanted to come. Now cheer up. This is our spring break; you’re supposed to have fun."

"I miss my keyboard."

"Already? You’ve only been away from the thing for a few hours."

"I know, but…" Laurel didn’t bother to finish her statement; Hayley couldn’t understand. Laurel’s keyboard was her baby. It had been a gift from her parents for her twentieth birthday four months ago, in mid-November. They both lived and worked in southern Delaware. They owned the home where their daughter lived, and took care of all financial matters for her. Despite providing for her material needs and wants and every whim, they had very little to do with Laurel, and it had been that way for nearly three years now. Laurel disliked thinking about her family; for this reason, she dove into her schoolwork and her passion for music. Music, playing, was her solace from the tumult of life.

Whenever she needed to escape from the world, all Laurel had to do was sit down and begin to play, and lose herself in the melodies of songs she would string together into one endless opus that went on for hours. She would play anything and everything, from traditional church hymns to 1980s soft rock tunes to anything she’d heard often enough on the radio. Her keen ear when it came to music was Laurel’s greatest pride. She could transpose on the spot, and play just about anything by ear.

Hayley, on the other hand, was almost completely naïve about music. It was only through Laurel’s influence and patient explanation that she’d learned as much as she had. Hayley’s passion was drama. And, according to Laurel’s assessment, even Hayley’s physique was perfect for it. Hayley exactly fit the Hollywood stereotype for starlets: 5’7", rail-thin figure, round-but-not-quite-baby face, straight pale blonde hair worn to her chin in a pageboy, and a peculiar eye color—lavender. That, actually, was Hayley’s doing; she was appalled by the idea of being "just another blue-eyed blonde," as she had put it when Laurel had initially asked about the colored contacts Hayley had been determined to have. Add all to that Hayley’s affinity for health food and her bubbly outgoing personality, not to mention the dramatic flair she’d demonstrated the other day, and the formula was complete. Hayley’s laughter was constant and infectious, and her blatant naiveté towards certain things, like what Laurel considered to be the finer aspects of music, was comical. Granted, she could get a little annoying at times, but it wasn’t because she was insensitive or dense. Hayley simply was not as empathetic as Laurel was.

Come to think of it, Laurel said to herself, Hayley and I have almost nothing in common. The contrast between the two of them was stark — they were as different as night and day. Unlike her socialite counterpart, Laurel was quiet and solitary by nature, with a deeply sensitive and poetic heart. Laurel was the type to cry when she was upset, and she shared her pain very infrequently. She didn’t mean to come off as antisocial, but that was often the case; it was of little consequence, though, as oftentimes Laurel preferred to be alone with her music, playing and composing for hours uninterrupted. That was one way in which she and Hayley complimented one another, as Hayley was rarely around because of endless rehearsals in the theater. Her absence gave Laurel the space she needed, and Hayley was around just enough so that Laurel didn’t feel as though she was alone in the world.

The differences between the two also extended to physical appearance. Whereas Hayley was blonde, fair-skinned, and rail thin, Laurel was of a slightly darker complexion, average build, and her long wavy hair was a coppery auburn. At 5’5", Laurel wasn’t displeased with her appearance, but kept herself rather plain unlike the exuberant Hayley. There was no need that Laurel could see to go all-out on her appearance; there was no man she wanted but the one whom she couldn’t have. Therefore, she didn’t waste her time with the extra effort whose primary purpose was to gain men’s attention.

Sighing, Laurel settled back into the seat and stared out the window at the passing clouds. Reaching into her backpack, she pulled out her CD player and her journal, and let her thoughts drift, as they often did, wherever the music led them. She began writing as she usually did, with her conscious thoughts. I don’t think this is entirely fair, she wrote. Hayley’s getting to go home for spring break. So what if Sand Springs is less than ten miles from Tulsa? For her, it’s home, while my home is getting farther and farther away. I would give anything right now to have this week to spend on the beach. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not ungrateful to Hayley’s dad for getting us those prime seats and backstage passes to Hanson’s Tulsa concert, but… I can’t face him. I don’t think that I can trust myself to not slip back into thinking that he — and I — were — oh, never mind. It wasn’t for real, so I shouldn’t let myself think about it. Besides, Hayley might be reading this over my shoulder. Not that Hayley’s nosy, but sometimes she’s too curious for her own good, and my sanity’s sake. That girl has absolutely no control over her curiosity. Not that that’s bad, but sometimes she drives me crazy.

Laurel took a momentary break to look over to see if Hayley was indeed attempting to sneak a peek at her journal. Instead, she was asleep, with her CD player blasting "Man From Milwaukee" over and over in preparation for the concert the following evening. Laurel reached the CD player and turned down the volume so that she couldn’t hear it. "I swear, she’s going to go deaf if she keeps this up," Laurel muttered. But at the same time, she was rather amused; Hayley looked and acted every bit the teenybopper in spite of being a few weeks shy of the legal drinking age.

Laurel turned up her own CD player slightly and went back to her writing. After a few more lines of contemplating the differences between Hayley and herself, Laurel’s thoughts turned down the same road they had before. She rolled the song lyrics over in her mind and mulled over their implications. As she did so, she copied the lyrics into her journal, so that she would have them in black and white for further study:

"I thought it was over, baby / We said our goodbyes / But I can’t go a day without your face / Goin’ through my mind / In fact, not a single minute / Passes without you in it / Your voice, your touch, memories of your love / Are with me all of the time / Let me let go, baby / Let me let go / If this is for the best, why are you still in my heart / Are you still in my soul, let me let go .."

"… Let me let go, baby / Let me let go / It just isn’t right, I’ve been two thousand miles / Down a dead-end road / Let me let go, darlin’, won’t you / I just gotta know, yeah / If this is for the best, why are you still in my heart / Are you still in my soul, let me let go / The lights of this strange city are shinin’ / But they don’t hold no fascination for me / I try to find the bright side, baby / But everywhere I look, everywhere I turn, you’re all I see / Let me let go, baby, won’t you / Let me let go / It just isn’t right, I’ve been two thousand miles / Down a dead-end road / Oh, let me let go, darlin’, won’t you / Let me let go / If this is for the best, why are you still in my heart / Yeah, you’re still in my soul, let me let go / Let me let go, let me let go …"

I wish I could get him out of my head, Laurel wrote as she listened to the song again. The thought of him is keeping me from getting on with my life. I do well enough, but I could be doing a lot better. When will he leave every moment of my li—" Hayley’s head rolling onto Laurel’s shoulder knocked her arm across the page. She gently pushed Hayley’s head in the other direction until it was leaned against the back of her seat.

Well, this will be the test, won’t it? Facing the truth in light of the lies…this could be an interesting week. I just hope I can keep which is which straight. Maybe seeing what’s true will make the lies all that much more obvious, and I can come to terms with it. I hope so. Leaving this as her final comment, Laurel put her journal and pen away, and stared out the window, lost with her thoughts.