Because of You (6 page)

I’ll attend my classes, and spend my free time practicing.

Avoid.

Avoid.

Avoid.

Right
, I think, trying to convince myself to be brave.

Finished, I sneak into my room, careful to be quiet. Grab some sheet music and my iPod, a secret gift from my uncle, and carefully close the door.

Maddie

he sun beats down as though it’s desperately trying to elevate my mood.

It’s still September, and there’s a slight chill in the morning air. Bellam Springs has three seasons: Summer, Winter, and
Fring
, which is the two weeks between Summer and Winter where it’s almost like Fall and Spring combined.
Fring
. My mother made that word up when I was little and it stuck. I kind of like it.

That’s what today feels like, a beautiful
Fring
day. I hurry into the cafeteria, punch my code into the console, and grab a bagel, cream cheese, and a glass of orange juice. The smell of coffee and bacon fill the room. Should I grab some? But the line is long and I don’t have time. I want an hour to practice the piano before my first class.

There’s a tiny round table in the corner near one of several large windows, and I sit. After I smear cream cheese on half a bagel, I take a bite. The air is crackling with anticipation. It’s my first day of college. I’m giddy. I feel grown up.

The cafeteria is packed. People are in groups, the same as high school kids I’ve seen in the movies, and I’m surprised. One long table is filled with kids, all chatting and laughing loudly. I can’t help wondering what they’re talking about.

I take another bite of bagel and put my ear buds in. Scrolling through my music, I find the piece I’m going to practice—
Nocturne No. 2 in E
—and press play. It starts out slow, whimsical.

As I listen, Kyle walks in. His hair is wet and rumpled. Like he got out of the shower and shook it dry. He’s wearing a tight blue t-shirt that accentuates every muscle in his arms, chest, and abs. His jeans sit low on his hips. The two girl from the party last night flank him. They look hungover, but still beautiful. I wonder if they stayed the night with him. And if they did, what they did. I think about his offer to join them, and what that would’ve entailed. My cheeks get hot. I look away, taking another bite of my bagel, but I can’t keep my traitorous eyes from his body.

The music playing in my ears speeds up, and so does my heart.

Kyle glances over, his eyes locking on mine, and a smile spreads across his lips.

He remembers me. And I realize I’m really excited. All the times we hung out together—in his room, in my room, listening to music, talking about what we wanted in life, rushing through homework—it bubbles up and runs over. I’ve missed him terribly.

He whispers something to the girls and then strolls over, leaving them to fend for themselves. My heart leaps. Butterflies escape, spread their wings and flutter lightly in my stomach. What will he say? I can’t help but notice the way people in the cafeteria watch his movements. He’s like one end of a magnet. Everyone is drawn to him.

Including me.

I sit up straight and pull out an ear bud.

“Hi,” I say when he’s close. My heart skips several beats.

“Hey.” He places both hands on the edge of a chair and leans forward.

I can smell his aftershave and a hint of vanilla… his shampoo?

“Didn’t I see you at a party last night?” He licks his lips, and I’m mesmerized. “What’s your name?” he asks.

I blink several times, open my mouth and close it, trying not to look like a trout. My bagel drops onto the napkin.

He doesn’t know who I am.
I can’t believe it.
Am I really that forgettable?

The girls he left behind have sauntered up next to him. They aren’t twins but they are dressed alike: white button shirts undone to their belly buttons with crisp collars, navy miniskirts, over-the-knee navy socks, and black, super high Mary Janes.
Their shoes say slut
, I’ve decided.

One of the girls drapes a hand through Kyle’s arm. She glares at me before smiling brightly at Kyle. “Let’s eat,” she coos.

Trying not to gag, I stand. “No. Sorry. I thought you were someone else.” I pick up my music and my iPod and move to leave. “You’re welcome to sit here, if you want,” I say and edge around them.

His smile falters, but only for a second. “Thanks.”

As I walk by, he makes a point to grab the girls’ asses. They squeal and giggle.

Yeah, he’s a jerk. I didn’t check his shoes, but I’m sure they scream
jerk
.

Because you were too busy staring at his gorgeous face and beautiful body,
I think, disgusted with myself.

I huff. He probably had on really expensive shoes. Pretentious asshole shoes. I’m tempted to turn back and look, but I don’t. It’s better if we stay as far from each other as possible.

Kyle

The look on Maddie’s face as she walks away burns out everything else and I get why. I’ve hurt her by pretending I don’t know who she is. But I figure that’s the least of what she deserves. Part of me feels guilt over the way I acted, but mostly feel burning ager over the way she ignored me for so many years.

“Kyle? What you thinking about?” She gives me a secret smile, one that says she’s thinking about last night.

“Nothing.” It’s time to put an end to this. “Last night was fun, but that’s it.”

“Yeah, it was super fun.” Baby’s hand runs down my back, and she pats me on the ass.

“Thanks again. See ya around.” I pat them on their shoulders. This is always the awkward part.

Baby grabs my arm. “Wait. I—Let’s do it again sometime.” She winks.

“Laters, Baby,” I say flippantly.

Turns out she goes by Baby thanks to that book,
50 Shades
of whatever. I know enough to know it’s being made into a movie and that the main character says that to his girl.

Baby smiles but won’t let go.

I have to pry her fingers from my arm. The girl is way too needy, and not nearly as into girls as her girlfriend thinks. I feel kinda bad for Beth. At least she knows what she wants.

“I had a great time.” I squeeze Beth’s hand. Of the two I like her best, which is sad because

Beth is shooting daggers my way. While we were in the moment she seemed to enjoy herself. Guess that’s changed.

The girls sit at the table where Maddie sat only moments ago. My heart lurches, and that makes me angry.

At least that’s what I keep telling myself. Every time I’m near her, my body proves I’m lying. And it irritates the hell out of me.

I grab some bacon and a slice of cheddar. Slap the ingredients between two pieces of toast and eat as I make my way over to the piano rooms.

My music professor asked me at the end of my freshman year to play a duet for the Winter Gala this year. I’ve got to practice. As it is I’ll probably only get in an hour this morning.

Maddie

The practice rooms are in the basement of the Fine Arts Center. My shoes skim down the stairs. The padding echoes off the walls. I push open one of the heavy double doors, and am rewarded with one of my favorite sounds.

Music.

It’s loud and soft. Heavy and light.
Staccato
and
legato
. Classical and jazz. Rock and roll. It’s the sounds of every emotion that ever existed, all bottled up in individual rooms. I make my way down the hall slowly.

This is my church.

My home.

The best place in the world.

I stop in front of a door and peer inside. It’s empty except for a piano and a bench. My breathing slows, my heart settles. The door closes behind me with a click. My body unwinds. I place my music on the stand and sit.

Another breath.

Nothing exists but the keys, the way they press against the strings and form a sound. Beautiful or angry. It’s there because of me, tattooed in the air because I created the sound with the press of a finger.

I scoot the bench, shift my butt, and begin.

Scales first. I start at middle C. The left hand plays down and the right plays up in synchrony. Without skipping a beat, I move to the next set of scales. My breathing keeps time with my hands. I rock back and forth slightly, allowing my body to feel the beat, my fingers to warm up and modify to the keys of an unfamiliar piano.