Nocturne (14 page)

There was none. This was it.

Sitting up after several minutes, I forced myself to take a few deep breaths as I dried my tears. It was for the best that the year was over. I still had another year left at the conservatory and was bound to run into him at one time or another. I needed to learn to behave in a professional manner if I was ever going to get into a symphony when I left here—if that’s even what I wanted.

My phone rang, interrupting my spiraling train of thought. I smiled, seeing it was Madeline White. I couldn’t wait until fall, when I could resume instruction with her.

“Hello?”

“Savannah, dear, how are you? You sound like you’ve been crying.” She sounded genuinely concerned.

“Oh, you know,” I tried to sound nonchalant, “just finished my music theory final.” I laughed a little.

“That would do it to me, too.” She echoed my laugh. “Anyway, I’ve been waiting for you to finish up the last of your finals so I could talk to you about something.”

I sat up a little straighter as her tone brightened. “Yes?”

“As you know, I instruct at the Tanglewood Institute every summer.”

“Mm-hmm.” I nodded, and started pacing around my room, clearing all the Gregory clutter from my brain.

That’s where I first met Madeline, when I was a freshman in high school. The Institute is open to students entering ninth grade through those entering their sophomore year of college. I’d attended every year I was eligible to, and, frankly, missed it greatly last summer.

“Well, this is very unusual, and I had to make lots of noise and jump through several hoops to make this happen, but … I want you to shadow me there this summer, Savannah. I’d like you to work with me and instruct with me at the Institute.”

“What?” My pulse raced as I tried to piece her words together in an order that made sense. “Is that … how did you?” Words fell rapidly from my brain and landed on the floor around me.

She laughed sweetly. “You’re incredibly talented, Savannah. No one can deny that. I wouldn’t normally share this information with any student of mine, but you’re the best flutist at the conservatory right now. And, frankly, the best we’ve seen in years. This will provide you an opportunity you simply wouldn’t get anywhere else. I hope you’ll consider—”

“Yes!” I squealed before she could finish her sentence.

“Oh fantastic! Stop by my office sometime today and I’ll go over the details with you. I’m thrilled, Savannah, really. I think this will be a fabulous opportunity for you.”

Happy tears washed over the old ones. “Thank
you
, Madeline. See you this afternoon.”

I tossed my phone on the bed and stretched my arms over my head, grateful that my summer would be filled with nothing but music and sunshine.

Grateful for something to distract me from the love I felt for Gregory that I knew he wouldn’t return.

Gregory

As my theory class went through their final, I went through the music I’d given Robert to study this week. Somehow, despite my objections, I’d been drawn into guiding his curriculum, even if one of my former students was handling the lessons. For only two months of practice, he was coming along surprisingly well.

I heard Savannah sigh. The room was otherwise silent as the rest of the class was finishing their final exam. Some had already finished and left, and I knew Savannah wouldn’t be far behind. Over the last several weeks, she’d shown incredible command over the material in both her assignments and exams.

Something had changed.

It had changed in me, too, the moment I felt her mouth on mine. The moment I licked rainwater off of her lips before she opened her mouth to me.

Savannah seemed to still be in rocky territory with Nathan, and she’d stopped coloring outside the lines in her assignments. While she’d been the one to initiate our kiss, I did exactly nothing to stop it. I tangled my hands through her rain-soaked hair and pulled her closer. I’d dreamt of feeling the silkiness of her hair against my fingers for far too long to let the opportunity get away. The sound she made as I pressed my mouth harder into hers nearly brought me to my knees.

I’d thought of kissing her too many times during the semester. None of them included being right before finals in front of a piss-poor excuse for a Greek restaurant. In spite of my intentions to help foster her abilities and career, I’d done some damage. That much was clear given her emotional response to me and those around her. She likely thought I was a pig, a professor abusing his authority by preying on young and dumb students.

She was neither of those things, and I hoped to God she didn’t think those things of me.

Not that it mattered if she did.

Those few seconds were all we’d ever have.

Jesus.
I closed my eyes for a moment and let myself feel her against me one more time. Her lips, cold and shivering but making me feel like I was on fire …

Stop.

I’d spent months discussing keeping lines between personal and professional. And now I’d harmed her ability to do just that. I’d watched her play at her flute ensemble concert, and I could pick her sound out of the group of six flutists in a second—her tone was breathtaking. But, her face looked empty and her vibrato was a little off. While that was only a small performance, if she continued to let her emotions spill into her music like that it could prove disastrous in the future.

Looking up, I found her smiling at Nathan for a moment before returning to her paper. Maybe things had smoothed out between them. I knew she cared about him. But the thought made my stomach clench all the same.

After a few minutes, Savannah stood, wrote one last thing at the bottom of her paper, and gracefully made her way to my desk.

“Here you go, Mr. Fitzgerald.” Her exam shook slightly in her hand as she placed it on my desk.

Keeping my eyes trained on the sheet music in front of me, I mumbled, “Thank you, Miss Marshall,” effectively excusing her from my desk.

“You’re welcome,” she responded. Her voice was soft and distant, causing me to look up. She was turning slowly away, her head lowered slightly. It made me want to reach out to her, inexplicably, and ask her what was wrong.

“Savannah,” I called after her as quietly as possible, before I could stop myself. A couple of students in the front row looked up for a second, before I raised my eyebrow and narrowed my eyes at them.

They quickly found more interesting things to look at. Such as their exams.

As she raised her head and turned back to my desk, she cleared her throat slightly. “Yes?” she replied, her brown eyes still dark and slightly glassed over.

Realizing I hadn’t thought through what I was going to say after calling her name, I straightened my shoulders and swallowed before saying, “Good luck.”

Her eyebrows came together for a second as she nodded and hastily left the classroom. Glancing down at her exam, I found a note written on the bottom right hand corner.
Mr. Fitzgerald,
she wrote,
I know we disagreed about the material, and I’m sorry for all the trouble I gave you. But, I loved it—the music.

All the trouble? Knowing that Savannah would contest nearly every other word I said in class this semester made coming to class something to look forward to, despite the fact that I’d dreaded taking on the class in the first place. Regardless of the fact that I found her opinions ridiculous much of the time, it was her passion that I admired. While I maintained my stance that she needed to be appropriately trained in order to reach her maximum potential, I found myself hoping she didn’t lose her desire to break the rules.

It put life in her eyes. Life that drowned out the sound of a pounding rainstorm in the middle of a crowded city.

Shaking my head as I placed Savannah’s exam on the bottom of the pile, my eyes scanned the class, where I found Nathan Connors staring at me with an indignant expression on his face. He shook his head, and I saw him clench his jaw slightly before he turned back to his exam.

That boy was a nuisance. It didn’t really surprise me that he and Savannah were friends, or whatever they were. She, however, could get much further than he ever would, given his volatile behavior at school. I wouldn’t put it past him to one day genuinely lose his temper in a professional environment.

An hour later, after the last of the students shuffled out of my classroom, I made my way back to my office. Exhausted at the prospect of having to sort through the exams and tally final grades, I stopped when I saw Madeline White’s office door propped open.

“Come in,” she chirped when I knocked.

Madeline was my age, though I admit she looked much younger than I did. Her olive skin and long black hair made her look like a student and garnered her much male student attention on campus, from what I heard through droll pre-classroom discussions. She took it all in stride, though. Which I suppose was easier to do given she only had two male students to instruct.

“Sorry to interrupt, Madeline, but I just wanted to stop in and see how you are feeling?”

She waved her hand toward the chair in front of her desk. “Nonsense, Gregory, you’re never interrupting. Sit.” I did, as she continued. “Thank you again for taking on that class for me. I hope they didn’t give you too much trouble? You know how upperclassmen can be.”

“I do,” I sighed. “They were just fine, Madeline. Some more … difficult than others.”

Madeline sat and crossed her arms. “How did Savannah Marshall do in the class?”

My pulse started to race at the mention of her name, and my mind reeled back to the conversation I’d had with James a few weeks ago about the rumors floating around about us. Certainly Madeline hadn’t caught wind of them. She’d been off campus recovering from her surgery since December. If she’d heard the rumors, things were worse than I thought.

“Fine,” I tried for a dismissive tone, examining Madeline’s face. “She’s definitely a student of yours, that’s for sure. I’ve heard her play some throughout the semester and she’s wildly talented. Her discipline in coursework, though …” I set my jaw and looked at Madeline, who seemed amused.

“Oh, come on, Gregory,” she rolled her eyes, “just because a student doesn’t agree with your ways doesn’t mean they’re undisciplined. I hope you didn’t knock her grade because of it.”

“I wouldn’t do such a thing, Madeline. I take my job seriously.” I forced myself to say the right thing. The thing professors say when they’re not busy making out with a student.

“Of course you do. And, I know what you mean about Savannah. She’s definitely a free spirit. Hey, you’re teaching at the Institute again this summer, right?”

“Yes. I don’t know why it took me so long to agree to do it, honestly. Last summer was wonderful.” Last summer was the first time I’d taught at the Tanglewood Institute. Young musicians preparing for a professional career, from largely upstanding backgrounds. It was a thoroughly satisfying experience.

“Excellent. I’ll be there, too. That’s why I took this past semester completely off, so I could be in top form for Tanglewood. I’m glad Savannah did well in your class, she needed to complete it for this summer.”

I shook my head, not understanding where Madeline was headed with her train of thought. Savannah was too old to attend the Institute.

Thankfully sensing my confusion, she offered more information. “I got the okay to have Savannah shadow me this summer at the Institute. She’ll be with me instructing private lessons and in the classroom setting.”

Leaning forward, trying to control the sudden bout of lightheadedness I was feeling, I looked Madeline in the eyes. “I’m sorry, what did you just say? Instructing with you? That’s absurd, she’s a student.”

“Oh, Gregory,” she waved her hand in front of me, “get over yourself. She won’t get in your way.” Suddenly, Madeline turned more serious than I was used to seeing as she rested her elbows on the desk. “You know as well as I do that she has the talent to instruct anyone who wants to play. I’ve seen her work with younger kids; she’s kind but stern. Maybe you haven’t heard her play as much as I have, so you’ll have to take my word for it, but this girl is the real deal. I want to give her as many opportunities for success as I can, since, unfortunately, I’m not sure if playing professionally is what she wants to do upon graduation.”

Controlling my physical reaction to this conversation was growing increasingly difficult. “I stand corrected.
That’s
absurd. What gives you the impression she wouldn’t want to play professionally?” I felt the anxiety rising through my voice but couldn’t stop it. A player with her pure musical beauty simply
had
to pursue a professional career. “What sense would it even make for her to attend here if not to play professionally?”

Madeline lowered her eyes slightly, rubbing her forehead. “I don’t know … I’m concerned it has something to do with her mother, but I can’t be sure.”

“What does her mother have to do with any of this?” I scoffed incredulously. Letting others affect my playing is not something I’d ever stood for.

“It’s not really my place to get into her family politics with you, Greg. But, I will say I’m hoping you won’t throw too much of a fit when I ask the group of instructors if she can play with us in our ensemble this summer. She can keep up, that I’m sure of. I want to encourage her to keep playing, but it needs to be done carefully. If she feels pushed, she’s likely to pull back.”

I stood, beads of sweat starting to form on my forehead. Pacing to the back of my chair, I rested my hands on it and took a breath before addressing Madeline. “Fine,” I managed, “you won’t get any resistance from me about her playing with us. But, she better keep up, like you say she can.”

“It’s supposed to be fun, Gregory.” Madeline rolled her eyes and stood, meeting me by the door.

“And, it can be fun, when people put in the work,” I retorted.

She playfully slapped my shoulder. “Get the hell out of here,” she chuckled, “before you have a panic attack. She might be a student, but she’s more than mature enough to handle this.”