Read Online Underwater by Maayan Nahmani - Free Book Online Page A

calling out for you.”
    Closing my eyes, I heard her chanting my name… “Aria, Aria, Aria...”
    I tried to tune her out, without success. Then, I tried to clear my mind from every thought that swirled within. Every fear and every excuse that might keep me from going on that stage. There was nothing. My mind, together with the devil in front of me, wanted me on stage.
    With a heavy sigh, I nodded in agreement.

“I don’t want learning, or dignity, or respectability. I want this music, and this dawn, and the warmth of your cheek against mine.”
    — Rumi
     

     
    I sat in my usual seat at the bar, in the far corner, scanning the place with attentive eyes. So far, it was running smoothly and without any incidents. Just the way I liked it. It felt surreal to sit here, wishing that no fight would break loose. Even though I had it under control, I felt edgy every fucking time I had to place myself in between drunk fuckers.
    I’d arrived at the bar only a half hour ago, an hour late.
    Leaning across the bar, I crossed my arms against my chest and sighed.
    I had a shitty night, and a shittier day. I’d decided to give therapy another shot. So I’d sat on Dr. Kevin Anderson’s sofa, feeling nervous as hell and wanting to run away at every turn. I did the opposite of that. I kept my ass down while I listened to him. I felt like the meeting lasted forever, and when it was finally over, I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I knew I had a long way to go, so I tried to stay positive, even though every thought in my mind screamed at me it was pointless.
    That it was too late .
    It was crazy, but Tiny’s words hounded me and wouldn’t let me rest. They followed me every day and every hour. This young girl, she meant something to me, even though I didn’t quite know what yet. Her opinion mattered. And she was right. I’d been running away from the horrors of my past. I had no fucking idea if I would ever see her again, but in the span of the short meeting we had, she opened my eyes to the possibility of more . Maybe it was the aftershock of attacking her? Or maybe, deep down, I wished that if we ever meet again, she would see that I was trying?
    I tapped my fingers on the table in a slow, steady pace, lost in my own private bubble until a commotion that went on next to the stage disturbed my placidity. I lifted my head and started to stand but then something caught my eye, preventing me from moving forward. All I saw was her back. Her light brown hair fell in long, loose waves. She climbed up the stage steps, holding a guitar in her right hand. Her white dress flared at her waist, making her alluring frame appear as angelic as she was.
    Motherfucker.
    I could only see her back and yet my heart beat wildly. I would recognize her anywhere, the woman who haunted my thoughts for the past three weeks. What was she doing here? Every motherfucking eye in this place was trained on her. Fuckers. Anger flared through me, making me clench the edge of the table tightly. Calm the fuck down . As I tried to control my ragged breathing, my eyes stalked her. She stood in the middle of the stage, the strap of the guitar now plastered over her small body. She appeared nervous as fidgeted with the edge of her dress. I gawked like a motherfucker, my eyes wide. She looked captivating. I couldn’t look away.
    She straightened and then scowled at someone in the crowd. Following her gaze, I noticed a tall, redheaded girl standing close to the stage. She gave her a thumbs-up while jumping up and down with excitement. From the looks of it, she was probably her friend. When I returned my eyes to the object of my desire, I couldn’t help smiling. She appeared exactly as she looked when she entered the group meeting, as if it was the last place she wanted to be. I would bet her friend had something to do with her being on stage.
    Tapping the microphone a few times, she arranged the stand to fit her height. When it was set to her satisfaction, she