A Thousand Boy Kisses(27)
I laughed.
Jorie frowned.
“Jorie, I don’t go to parties. No one would invite me anyway.”
“I’m inviting you. You’ll be my date.”
My humor dropped. “I can’t, Jor.” I paused. “I can’t be there when Rune is. Not after everything.”
Jorie leaned in closer. “He won’t be there,” she said quietly. “He’s told Deacon he isn’t going, that he’s going somewhere else.”
“Where?” I asked, failing to disguise my curiosity.
She shrugged. “Hell if I know. Rune doesn’t really talk much. I think it only adds to why he’s attracting groupies like there’s no tomorrow.” Jorie stuck out her bottom lip and prodded my arm. “Please, Pops. You’ve been gone so long, and I’ve missed you. I want to spend as much time with you as I can, but you keep hiding yourself away. We have years to make up for. Ruby will be there too. You know I’d never leave you alone.”
My eyes inspected the ground, trying hard to think up an excuse. I looked up at Jorie and I could see that my refusal was upsetting her.
Chasing away the pangs of doubt in my chest, I relented. “Okay, I’ll come with you.”
Jorie’s face split into a huge smile. “Perfect!” she said. I laughed as she brought me in for a quick hug.
“I need to get home,” I said as she released me. “I’ve got a recital tonight.”
“Okay, I’ll come get you at seven tomorrow night. Good?”
I waved my hand and began walking home. I had only made it a few hundred yards before I felt someone walking behind me through the blossom grove. When I looked over my shoulder, there was Rune.
My heart kicked into sprint mode as my gaze caught his. He didn’t look away from me, but I did from him. I was terrified he would try to talk to me. What if he wanted me to explain everything? Or worse, what if he wanted to tell me that what we had was nothing?
That would break me.
Quickening my pace, I kept my head down and rushed all the way home. I felt him trailing me the entire way, but he made no move to overtake.
As I raced up the steps of my porch, I looked to the side and saw him leaning against the side of his house, near his window. My heart flipped as he pushed back his hair. I had to keep my feet rooted to the porch, in case I dropped my bag and ran over to him, to explain why I let him go, why I cut him off so horribly, why I’d give anything for him to kiss me just one more time. Instead, I forced myself to go inside.
My mama’s words played heavily on my mind as I walked to my bedroom and lay down … maybe it was a good thing you broke all contact, baby. I’m not real sure he could have handled everything you went through from what his mamma has said…
Closing my eyes, I vowed to leave him alone. I wouldn’t be a burden to him. I’d protect him from the pain.
Because I still loved him as much as I always had.
Even if the boy I loved no longer loved me back.
Poppy
I flexed one hand, balancing my cello and bow with the other. Every now and again, my fingers grew numb and I had to wait to be able to play again. But as Michael Brown finished up his violin solo, I knew nothing would deter me from sitting center stage tonight. I would play my piece. And I’d savor every second of creating the music I loved so much.
Michael drew back his bow, and the audience burst into rapturous applause. He took a quick bow and exited on the other side of the stage.
The emcee grabbed the mic and announced my name. When the audience heard I was making my long-overdue return, their clapping grew louder, welcoming me back to the musical fold.
My heart raced in excitement at the whistles and support from parents and friends in the auditorium. As many of my peers from the orchestra came to the wings to pat me on the back and wish me words of encouragement, I had to chase back a lump in my throat.
Straightening my shoulders, I forced back the overwhelming onslaught of emotion. I tipped my head to the audience as I walked to take my seat. The spotlight above rained bright light on me.
I positioned myself perfectly, waiting until the clapping died down. As always, I glanced up and found my family sitting proudly in the third row. My mama and daddy were smiling widely. Both sisters gave me little waves.
Smiling back to show them I had seen them, I fought against the slight pain that fluttered in my chest as I spotted Mr. and Mrs. Kristiansen sitting alongside them, Alton waving at me too.
The only person missing was Rune.
I hadn’t performed in two years. And before that, he never missed one of my recitals. Even if he had to travel, he was at every single one, camera in hand, smiling his crooked half-smile when our eyes connected in the dark.
Clearing my throat, I closed my eyes as I placed my fingers on the neck of the cello and brought the bow to the string. I counted to four in my head and began the challenging Prelude from Bach’s Cello Suites. It was one of my favorite pieces to play—the intricacy of the melody, the fast pace of the bow work and the perfect tenor sound that echoed around the auditorium.
Each time I sat on this seat, I let the music flow through my veins. I let the melody pour from my heart, and I imagined sitting center stage at Carnegie Hall—my ultimate dream. I imagined the audience sitting before me: people who, like me, lived for the sound of a single perfect note, who thrilled to be carried away on a journey of sound. They felt the music in their hearts and its magic in their souls.