Age 23:
From: [email protected]
You know when you have a breakthrough? Like a really big mind-blowing breakthrough, and everything feels perfect? Witnessing it happening to someone else might be even more incredible than experiencing it yourself.
You know how I said I’m kind of like a teacher? Today, one of my “students” hit his first breakthrough, and I think it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I could see the cogs in his tiny brain moving to piece everything together. It was like pure magic.
I hope you get to do the same thing one day, because it is indescribable.
P.S. can you please stop sending me those jump scare videos?? They get me every time.
***
My fingers flew along the keys naturally, as they had done over and over again. This wasn’t anything new, except tonight, Calla was watching me.
When she called me earlier, freaking out about how perfectly her interview had gone, I reassured her that I knew she could do it and then proceeded to buy her a giant bouquet of lilies. Unfortunately, I didn’t remember what lilies looked like. So I bought a white flower with a tiny yellow bulb in the center and hoped it would be enough. I set them in a vase in the kitchen, but that felt too formal, so I stood by the door, waiting for her to get home so I could hand them to her. When she walked in, her appreciative eyes homed in on me, and gave me an immediate embrace, it felt like the right move. But in the awkward moment after, I realized I’d more than likely tipped my hands in more ways than one.
The drive here was normal. There wasn’t a hint of discomfort, but I know she felt the same bump I did.
I could feel her presence through her lens across the room, could sense the warm smiles she gave the kids when they asked if they could look at her pictures. Her laughter floated through the air, causing my fingers to slip. The sound that emanated from the piano when I did was similar to the noise it would make if a cat had fallen onto it.
A giggle sputtered out of the young boy next to me. Bennett had been coming here for two and a half months now. He was quick to learn and sharp as a tack, and he had a heart of gold. It was clear in his eyes. He was desperate to perfect the practice. Each week, he improved. He understood how important it was to practice at home, and it showed.
Scales were easy for him, and reading music came to him naturally, but when it came time for the little guy to play the melody, something wasn’t clicking. Like he was overthinking it. The music was messing with his head. The cogs got stuck, making the little boy next to me with glasses and a giant heart feel entirely defeated.
I was showing him a new way to look at the music when Calla erupted in laughter near the back of the room. We hadn’t discussed the kiss yet. I desperately wanted to tell her that I had feelings for her but that I wanted to have a conversation with Luke as well. Instead of giving her an explanation, I practically ate her whole and then locked myself inside my bedroom. Tonight, I’d sit her down so we could talk. But truth be told, I wasn’t sure what to say.
Bennett snickered next to me. “That’s not right, Mr. Nathan.”
I tore my eyes from Calla, where she shone so brightly she made my heart pound against my ribs. Shaking my head, I turned back to the piano. Not far from where we sat, Riley and Sophie practiced scales, only they weren’t in sync. Between that and the conversations between various mothers and Calla, the room felt chaotic. And maybe that was what had caused Bennett’s disconnect.
“Hold on one second, bud. I’ve got an idea.” I stood and snagged my drawstring bag from near the entrance. Inside, I had a pair of thin but durable headphones.
A year or so ago, I had a student whose sister was sensitive to noises. Her mom kept a pair of headphones with her for overstimulating situations. But one evening, they’d forgotten the headphones, and it was a loud lesson. The class was full, and some of my kids were working at the piano and others had guitars. The little girl was so uncomfortable, and my heart broke for her.
Since then, I’d carried my own pair of headphones. I had a few students, and even some parents, who’d borrow them when the noise got to be too much. They weren’t noise-canceling, but they dulled the background sounds enough to allow a student to focus solely on what they were working on.
Approaching the baby grand piano where Bennett sat, I pulled out the headphones and held them out to him. “Try this and let’s do it again.”
Bennett eyed them. “Uh, I don’t really need those.”
I shook them and gave a nonchalant shrug so he’d see that it was no big deal. “Let’s just see what happens.”
Pressing his lips together, he studied them for a long moment, then reached out for them. Once they were on his ears, I spoke a little louder so he could hear me. “Give it a go.”
His fingers twitched on the keys, and he peeked over at his mom, then back at me.
I dipped my chin and smiled. Come on, kid.
His pointer finger tapped the correct note, followed by two thumb taps. I watched, entranced, as he closed his eyes and his shoulders relaxed. The rhythm developed, and the melody of “Yesterday” by the Beatles played out as his hands moved in time perfectly. I stayed frozen so as not to disturb the master at his work, but my heart squeezed and a bolt of excitement coursed through me.
Keep going. Keep going. I balled my hands into fists, holding back the cheers that wanted to erupt from within me. Like I was at a Phillies game and the bases were loaded. I was desperate to encourage him, push him, remind the kid that he was smart and capable. Tell him all he needed was a little more help and a little less distraction. But I held back, a bundle of pure nerves, as he played the last few measures.
Finally, the last note held. The entire room was silent. I so badly wanted to turn around to see Calla’s face, but I remained still.
Bennett opened his eyes slowly, like he couldn’t believe he’d done it. He flexed his fingers and looked up at me, his face splitting in a huge smile and his baby blue eyes dancing. I couldn’t help the grin that took over my face in response to his expression.
He turned to his mom, who was seated on the bench by the doorway, and she nodded with a smile, as if to say you did it.
Unable to sit still any longer, I jumped to my feet and pointed at the kid with fierce aggression.
“What did I say?” I was practically shouting. “I told you that you could do it!”
Bennett stood on the piano bench. It was something I normally didn’t allow, but I didn’t even blink this time. He leaped onto me, wrapping his arms around my neck and his legs around my torso until his tennis shoes jabbed me in the back.
He clung to me so tightly I couldn’t breathe, but I was so proud it didn’t even matter.
“I did it, Mr. Nathan! You’re the best,” he said, his voice a little wobbly.
Oh, geez. Now I’m gonna cry.
I patted his back and set him down. “Thanks, kid. I think I needed that as much as you did.”
Head tipped back, he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, then tore off toward his mom to celebrate. Turning away from the group near the back of the room, I wiped the rogue tear that had escaped down my cheek.
“That was incredible.” Calla was so close, she practically purred in my ear.
I spun, finding her standing by the piano, her camera slung from her neck and a wide smile across her face.
Even though my heart was racing at the thought of her witnessing that exchange, a cocky smirk took over my lips. “Yeah?”
She bit down on her lip and nodded. “Oh yeah.”
My chest shook with a light laugh. “Now I’ve got to get to work on figuring you out.”
She angled in, our height difference becoming more apparent the closer she got.
She twisted a curl of hair in her fingers, and in a sultry tone, she said, “Do you mean with the piano or with…something else?”
My mind raced back to the feel of her hips, to how responsive she was, how she curled into me without hesitation.
I brought my fist to my mouth and cleared my throat, then sputtered something along the lines of “well, I—you know” before taking a deep breath in through my nose and out through my mouth. “Piano. Piano, of course.”
Geez, this girl sucked every bit of confidence I’d ever had right out of me. Where were all those moves I’d perfected in college?
Calla’s giggle was light and airy and refreshing as she turned. She took one step, then another, and peeked back at me over her shoulder. “Uh-huh, right.”
Was that a wink? I think I drooled a little as she sauntered back to her little corner near the acoustic guitars, hips swaying all the way.
Was my relationship with Luke really that important? I mean, I was loyal 99 percent of the time, so what would that tiny, insignificant 1 percent really do?
A lot, you jerk.
Ugh. Calla meant the world to Luke, as she should. And Luke had never really witnessed me treat a girl right. So it was unlikely he’d be on #teamnalla right away. And who could blame the guy? I didn’t deserve to zip up Calla’s heels, much less go for anything more.
“Mr. Nathan?”
I gasped when a tiny voice popped up next to me, and I jerked my arm back in shock. Beside me, Sophie had her head tipped back, and she was staring at me in wide-eyed confusion.
I sighed and brought a hand to my chest. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and tried to center myself. I opened them back up, determined not to tackle Calla, physically or mentally. At least until lessons were over.
I clapped my hands together. “All right let’s wrap this up!”
***
Calla and I practically stumbled into the apartment together, both exhausted from work, interviews, lessons, and the undeniable tension between us that was so thick I had been sweating since the moment I saw her.
I figured she would want to go straight to her room since we were both clearly tired, but instead, she bounced to the piano, yelling at me to hurry while I was taking my shoes off. I laughed and dragged myself behind her and over to the piano bench. She patted the open spot to her right, the movement bringing back a memory of the first time I caught her in here. It was odd how much we’d grown since then.
“All right. Let’s do this again.” She stretched her fingers and was about to place them on the keys when I reached out. “Wait, I’ve got an idea.”
I stood and walked over to where my drum set was. Hanging off the metal bar beside it was my own set of headphones.
“Let’s try it with these.” I handed her the headset, and just as Bennett had done, she hesitated and stared up at me like I had lost my mind. I jerked them in front of her, and she sighed, grabbing them from my palm.
“Just because it worked for him doesn’t mean it will for me,” she said as she placed the headphones over her ears.
“No, but it’s worth a shot.”
She closed her eyes, nodded, and took a deep breath in her nose and out of her mouth. She brought her hands to the keys again, fingers splayed, but hesitated. Like she was worried that this last resort wouldn’t work.
She was still trying to learn the UP theme song, “Married Life.” It was on my list of beginner songs, and when she saw it there last week, she was determined to get it done. Only about fifteen beats in, she would find her fingers getting tangled up. The last time we tried, she said she was officially done, but maybe seeing Bennett today got her rethinking things.
She opened her eyes, wearing a look of fierce determination, and positioned her fingers the way I taught her. Holding my breath, I watched her pink-painted fingertips on each correct note, one after the other. Slowly, but surely, she gained momentum, focusing on each note, each expression of the music. The hesitance faded, replaced, little by little, by newfound confidence.
Her fingers moved with a fluidity that I’d only seen hints of so far as she lost herself in the music, allowing it to guide her. The piano became an extension of her emotions. I recognized it, because it had done the same for me once. With every note, her playing became more passionate and expressive, as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Each one flowed effortlessly now, and she let the music carry her to a place of pure bliss.
Her hands danced across the keys with precision. The song swelled, growing in intensity, echoing through the room with an enchanting harmony. Like with Bennett, I wanted to celebrate, but I couldn’t. I had to wait, had to let her finish. Because she was going to do it. On her own.
A mixture of concentration, joy, and pride radiated from her face. I should’ve been used to moments like this. I’d seen this breakthrough scene over and over again with my students. But Calla’s success felt like a whole new goal. And with it came a whole new reward, one I never expected.
The final notes of the song fill the room, lingering in the air for a moment before fading away. Calla slowly opened her eyes, her breath hitching as she realized what she’d accomplished.
She turned to me, eyes filled with disbelief, and I wondered if that’s what it felt like to be in love.
Instead, I opened my arms for a hug and said a raspy “See? I knew you could do it.”
She sniffed through her nose and smiled before practically jumping into my lap to hug me. With her arms draped around my neck, she pulled me in tight, squeezing so hard I could barely breathe.
I laughed and tapped her shoulder. “I wish I could watch that over and over.”
She pulled back enough to see my face. “What?” she yelled, squinting at me.
I laughed. In the commotion neither of us had thought to remove her headphones. Keeping my attention fixed on her face, I slid them off her ears and settled them around her neck. “I knew you could do it.”
She smiled and nodded. “You did, didn’t you? Come on, let’s celebrate.” She hopped up and linked our hands, pulling me off the bench and toward the door.
I cleared my throat. “Don’t you want to do it again?”
Calla shrugged. “Nope, I know I can now.”
She pranced to her room and slammed the door, and for a moment, I wondered if I was supposed to follow. I felt this instant loss when she went in. How pathetic was that? My heart was a piñata, and Calla was a six-year-old cracked out on Pixy Stix, taking a bat to it with an Elmo blindfold. And deep down, I was still trying to decide whether that was a good thing or bad thing.
Before I could knock, she came back out. She’d replaced her tiny denim shorts with leggings and an oversized Romfuzzled shirt that hit her mid-thigh. The way she rubbed off her makeup with a wipe and yawned as she shuffled down the hall was adorable. It was like watching a tiny bunny climb into bed. I wanted to wrap her up in one of her throw blankets and force her to rest. She was comfortable enough to be herself around me, bare-faced and in clothing that made her feel good. That made my heart lurch in some kind of way.
Hopefully that kind of ease meant she was building trust in me. Trust that had the potential to provide us with some kind of future together.
Though I supposed it could mean she only saw me as a friend. If so, I’d have to army crawl out of the friend zone and hope my heart would still be intact by the end of this.
Either way, I had a long road ahead of me.
“All right.” She sighed and threw the makeup remover wipe in the trash. “I’ll heat up the leftover cookies. You queue up Sunday’s game.”
That was the moment I realized I was in love with Calla Wells. And, simultaneously, I realized how much it would hurt when she inevitably moved out.
She smiled at me innocently, as if she hadn’t just mentioned my two favorite things in the world. And I sat there like a confused moron with nothing to contribute.
She dipped her chin and narrowed her eyes at me. “Did you hear me?”
I shook my head, forcing myself to let out a gruff “yup,” then snatched the remote from the coffee table.
We had done this what felt like a hundred times by now. Grabbing our snacks and blankets and making a fort on my couch. We’d turn on trashy reality TV or baseball while we talked. But tonight, I was hyperaware of Calla. Every time she shifted on the couch, when her ankle brushed against my thigh or when she’d stretch and stick her chest out. I’d never noticed before, but every time there was a close call on the game, she’d grimace and then sigh heavily when it was over. I hadn’t been able to focus a single moment of the game so far because I was so engrossed in the woman next to me.
“Go, go, go! Come on, what are you doing?”
Calla’s shouting at the TV was another thing I’d grown fond of. She hollered at the refs like she was defending a blood relative. My personal favorite was when she told the last ref he was as useful as a tanning bed in a gas station. I didn’t understand the sentiment, but I chose not to ask, preferring not to get on her bad side.
I cleared my throat and forced myself to look at the screen. “Yeah! Come on!”
I had no idea who we were yelling at or why, but I had to do something to break the spell I was under.
Saved by the bell, the timer on the oven dinged, giving me an excuse to pull myself together.
“I’ll get it!” I shot up from the couch at the same time Calla did, my hip bumping hers. She reared back in surprise, and of their own volition, my hands gripped her upper arms to keep her from falling back.
“Ooh,” she mumbled, righting herself.
Before me, the light from the lamp cast her in a warm glow that made her skin look almost golden. I met her eyes and was immediately swallowed up by the dark green waves full of natural beauty and mystery, like the depths of a forest. Her irises faded in intensity, from a vivid green to nearly black.
It was like time stood still, the two of us locked in that instant. My heart pounded at her suddenly close presence. My hand shook as I tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, and her breathing quickened as I drew closer. We were so close that our chests were almost touching, and in that moment, nothing existed outside of this room. There was only the two of us, our eyes locked, our hearts racing, our breath caught.
She was equally captivating and intimidating. Ethereal, like she was from a different realm entirely. Dipping her chin, she raised her brows, scrutinizing me.
“Well, are you gonna do it?” Her voice was raspy. It demanded attention, craved something, desperate yet persuasive.
“Do what?” My own voice was as dry as the Sahara.
“Kiss me again.”
Was I?
More than anything, I wanted to. But our last mind-blowing, feet-lifting kiss had brought with it a wave of regret.
I always did the right thing. I was the people pleaser. The yes man. I put others ahead of myself, even to my own detriment. So why, just this once, couldn’t I say yes for me? Put my desires first. Say to hell with Luke and kiss Calla like I’d been dreaming about for weeks now.
Her taste already haunted me, dragging me into dreams about nothing but her as soon as I shut my eyes. I couldn’t forget for a moment what her cherry ChapStick tasted like against my lips, or how she sank so naturally into me. I’d keep that memory close until the day I died.
The word yes pressed against the back of my teeth, urging to escape my mouth, and yet I hesitated.
Calla sighed and pressed closer until we were chest to chest. Her pink fingernails trailed up my arms until her arms were around my neck.
She leaned forward, her lips dancing against my ear as she whispered, “I know you feel this too.” She had no idea.“Let’s just get it out of our systems.”
My mouth dropped open, ready to respond, ready to shout an alrighty then and get straight to work. But my brain snagged on that last part, and my throat constricted.
“Out of our…systems?”
She nodded, brushing her nose along the side of my neck. “Yeah, like just get it out of the way, you know?”
A wave of dejection washed over me, and I let out a deep sigh and took a step back, deflating. When her arms fell from around my neck, I took another step back and stuffed my hands in my pockets. With a heavy heart, I said, “I…I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
Was that all she wanted? A one-time thing? To get it over with?
“Oh.” Her eyes went wide. “Oh, yeah. I understand. Luke and all that. Well, um, no hard feelings. I understand.”
My heart was in shambles. Piñata candy sprinkled all over the ground.
I pointed to the kitchen and took a step toward it. “I’ll get the cookies. Then. I think I’ll head to bed. See you tomorrow, I guess.”
Calla rubbed her hands together, wearing a fake smile. “Yup. See ya.”
With that, I spun and retreated to my room, worried I’d just made a huge mistake.
