Crimson Death (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter #25)(28)

Wednesday, 6:47 PM

Hey, wanna sit next to me tomorrow

in music? I promise I won’t distract

you. Finding it hard to keep up! I’m

dumb : (



No wonder he was finding it hard to keep up. He knew nothing about music. It made zero sense for him to have transferred into the class at all.

“Yeah, well, not serious enough for him to risk being seen alone with me,” I said, exiting the message app. “So, whatever.”

Aunt Linda turned the television down with the remote. She meant business. D and M time, so it would seem. “I remember when you were in eighth grade, and you had that crush on the older boy. What was his name again?”

“Ben.”

“Ben. You were crazy about him.”

Damn right I was. Ben with the perfect singing voice and bright green eyes. Who wouldn’t have been crazy about Ben? Too bad Ben was straighter than a curtain rod. “So?”

“So, even though you told me all about Ben, you didn’t tell everyone.”

Of course I hadn’t. Barely anyone even knew I was gay back then. I hadn’t come out properly until tenth grade. “Yeah, I wasn’t out yet. I get your point, but it’s different. I could never have had Ben anyway. If he’d told me he liked me, I would’ve done anything.”

“Well, maybe you were ready a little earlier than some. You also had a supportive family, and great friends. Not everyone has it so easy.”

I was unmoved. “If Will liked me the way I liked Ben, he’d at least speak to me in public.”

“Is music class not public?”

“Sure, but he ignored me for weeks up until just recently. In the halls, and in the cafeteria, and in English …”

“But not music class anymore. Seems like progress to me. It’s small, but it’s something. Sounds like he’s trying.”

Eurgh. I hated it when adults made sense.

“Try not to take it personally if he’s not going as quickly as you’d like him to,” Aunt Linda said. “If friendship is all he’s able to give you right now, don’t knock it because you were hoping for more. Maybe, if you’re lucky, he’ll be ready for something else one day. If not, at worst you’ll have yourself a good friend in a new school.”

I thought about it, trying to find the holes in her argument. It didn’t appeal to me, the idea that Will might only ever be a friend. Was that because deep down, I was hoping he’d magically turn back into the old Will overnight?

Aunt Linda might be right. Maybe I’d been unfair to pin that kind of expectation on Will. Now that I thought about it, he had been trying. Sure, he hadn’t done the thing I wanted him to do most of all—declare his love for me publicly on the bleachers in a grand musical number—but that didn’t mean I had to knock the baby steps, did it?

I bit my lip, then sent him a text back.

You’re definitely not dumb. We can sit together if you want. I’ll even give you a distraction hall pass or two, if you’re lucky.

Aunt Linda gave me a tired, but genuine, smile.





11


“Stop, stop, stop. That sucked.”

I stopped the recording dutifully, but shook my head. “That was fine. What’s the problem?”

Juliette lowered her clarinet and stared at me like she was doubting the legitimacy of my ears. “Um. All of it. All of it was the problem. One more time, okay?”

We were holed up in her bedroom, taking advantage of the natural late-October light to film her audition for the Conservatory. A task that was taking longer than I’d expected. Like, a lot longer. She’d played the piece so many times I knew it inside and out. I’d had to stop myself from humming along the last five or so takes.

“Sure, but seriously, we need to wrap it up soon. I have to be at the Lost and Found by five-thirty for sound check.” It was my first gig with Absolution of the Chained that night. Sure, it was in a bar that was usually emptier than a college student’s refrigerator, but it was still important. I didn’t want to mess anything up, and that included being late. Also, I had good reason to expect there would be at least a handful of people in our audience that night. Juliette and the girls had a few connections around the school they were dragging along, and Will had even promised to bring the basketball guys. Sure, he’d said it was so Darnell could get a shot to speak to Niamh alone, but I appreciated it either way.

“Okay, one more time,” Juliette said, waving to get my attention. “Count me in.”

I did, and she took it again from the top. Her fingers flew over the holes and keys, her gaze distant as her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. She was somewhere else. Which was promising. The last few takes, she’d been stealing glances at the camera, until I’d promised her it wasn’t likely to explode without notice.

I sang along in my head until I realized I didn’t know this part. She’d gotten further than before. I held my breath, willing her to keep it going, to hold on to the streak. She made it another second. Then another. Surely the piece was almost over now. Surely.

Then she played a final note, and breathed out. I waited for her confirmation, hopeful.

“Switch it off, Ollie.” She laughed. “Okay. That was okay. I got through it all, anyway.”