Nocturne(29)

“She’s attractive ... gifted ... it’s not a hard sell.”

“She’s a disruption to the entire class. Undercuts me any chance she gets. I can barely stand her presence in my classroom.” That wasn’t true though. In fact, all I could think about on the way to class was her being there.

James rolled his eyes. “It’s not your classroom that concerns me.”

I leaned forward. I could feel my heart beating in my temples. Anger? Tension? Anxiety? I had no idea. “James. Listen to me. You’re all too aware of my feelings about relationships, about getting involved with someone that might interfere with my music.”

James leaned forward, keeping his volume low. “If she wasn’t a student, I’d tell you to go for it. She’s a good match from what little I know of her. And … that concerns me.”

“You’re out of your mind.” I sat back and ran a hand through my hair.

He grimaced. “Gregory. Be honest with me. We’ve been friends for more than a decade.”

I gave a large sigh, tossed back the rest of my drink, and waved at the waitress, pointing at the empty glass. Then I leaned forward again and said, “James ... I … she ... nothing has happened. Nothing will. The subject is closed.”

“Can I suggest, then, that you become a little more circumspect? If these rumors get back to the Dean, you’re going to find yourself answering questions for the administration. And while the conservatory is lucky to have you, I think you know there are plenty on the faculty who are either jealous of your talent or resentful of your attitude. They won’t hesitate to throw you under the bus.”

“You’re well aware I avoid office politics of any kind.”

“I know that. You’re above all of it. But don’t think it can’t drag you down into the mud.”

I sighed. “James, thank you for bringing this to my attention. But in all seriousness, the subject is closed. I refuse to discuss it any more.”

James shook his head and ordered another beer.





Savannah


I stood at the base of the steps to Nathan’s apartment for a long while, debating whether or not I would actually press the buzzer. Rain falling in cold, fat drops rolled down my forehead and balanced on the ends of my eyelashes while I stared at his name next to his doorbell. The last three weeks had been awkward. No, they were awful. After three days of dealing with him ignoring my calls, I stopped calling. I’m sure he was further irritated by my avoiding him in class. Not my finest moment of maturity, sure. But, I was confused. I was reliving our whole friendship in the framework of an entirely different paradigm than the one I’d been operating.

Buzz.

I pressed the buzzer, waiting nervously. What if he wouldn’t let me in?

“Who is it?” Nathan’s tired voice nearly knocked me off balance.

“Nate, it’s me ...” No one ever called him Nate. Not since we were about thirteen and he deemed it to be childish. But, that’s how I was feeling. Like the thirteen-year-old girl that had a boy best friend who meant the absolute world to her.

“What do you want, Savannah?” His tone would have seemed cold if I didn’t hear his voice shaking a little.

“We need to talk.”

There was a dreadful silence before a sigh.

I rolled my eyes, annoyed to be having this conversation through a speaker. “Please, Nathan. I … look, it’s cold and raining out here, are you gonna let me in or not?”

“Shit, sorry,” he mumbled before I heard another buzz, and the door click, allowing me access.

Shaking raindrops from my coat as I walked to his second floor apartment, I saw his door pop open. Walking through, I found Nathan leaning back against his kitchen counter with his arms crossed over his chest. I tossed my coat on the table by the door and ran my fingers through my hair a few times, trying to dry it out a bit.

“Oh for Christ’s sake, Savannah, you’re all wet,” Nathan huffed, walking toward his bathroom. He returned with a towel that he held out in front of him.

I felt his eyes on me as I ran the towel over my hair. “Thank you.” I sighed as I set the towel on top of my jacket and made my way to the couch.

“So,” he shrugged, “what do you want to talk about?”

Tilting my head to the side, I spoke gently. “Come on, Nathan, sit.”

He stared at the space next to me for several seconds, a battle playing across his eyes, before he sighed and sank next to me.

“Look,” I started before he could, “we’ve been friends for ten years. You’ve always made me feel safe, protected …” I trailed off, watching his face.

He swallowed hard but didn’t quite look at me.

“Anyway,” I continued, “I need you to understand that I’m not upset that you’re not gay. That’s ridiculous. I just … it’s just that I shared some things with you that, honestly, I wouldn’t have told you if I thought—”

“If you thought I was straight?” His tone was clipped. Irritated.

“It’s not just that, Nathan.” I wrapped my hand around his, but he didn’t respond. It sat flat in my palm. “If I thought that you liked me … I wouldn’t have ever gone on about the boys, the kisses, the breakups.”