Nocturne(31)

By the time we got under the awning, his umbrella was in shreds, the fabric completely torn from the wire spokes. He looked at it in frustration for a second, shaking it, as if giving it a stern look or a strong lecture might force it back into shape.

Finally he tossed it aside. I wrapped my arms across my chest, my teeth chattering. My coat had soaked through.

The rain was coming down harder now. Hard enough I could hear it rattle off the awning and the nearest cars, a roar of a sound. Behind us, the walls and windows were covered with signs reading Boston Shawarma: Lamb, Kebab, Hummus, We Deliver! To both sides and our front, a wall of rain, almost completely blocking the view of the street.

Right in front of me … his face. Rain still dripped from his hair, past his sapphire eyes. Eyes that were fixed on me. I couldn’t hear my heartbeat over the pounding of the rain. But I could feel it, rushing in my ears. Because he brought his hands up, cupping my face. As he did I reflexively raised my hands, placing them flat on his chest, as if to hold him back.

“Why didn’t you have an umbrella?” he asked.

I swallowed. I didn’t know how to answer that. So I told the truth. “I don’t like having to prepare for rain.”

He shook his head, just slightly, and his mouth quirked up into a grin, one eyebrow raised. Then he threw his head back and laughed, a loud, hearty belly laugh. Without thinking, I shifted my hands to both sides of his face. And I stretched up and kissed him, hard, on the lips.

Gregory froze. For maybe a quarter second. Then his arms instantly wrapped around me, one hand slipping through my soaked hair and gripping the back of my head. Our lips and mouths were open, working together, his tongue touching mine, and I let out a low whimper.

I heard a bell ring as the door to the Shawarma place opened toward us, and I pushed, hard, shoving back away from him.

Three girls … students from the conservatory … stepped out of the door. One of them groaned, looking out into the rain. “We’ll never make it without getting soaked,” she said.

In between the girls and me, Gregory just stood there. Staring at me with those eyes that grabbed my heart and twisted it in knots.

I shook my head just slightly then backed out from under the awning and into the rain.

I turned and ran.





Savannah


I don’t know how the rumors started, but they made quick work of spreading. Somehow, someone heard my shouting match with Gregory the week after spring break. God, I shouted at a teacher. What was that about? Marcia came back to the room one day and joked that she was checking to see if I was still alive after going a few rounds with the insufferable cellist. From there, things only got more speculative when Nathan and I stopped talking. A few girls in class whispered to me things like, Is it true? Are you dating a teacher? All I could do was thank God no one had seen that kiss.

In spite of myself, my eyes wandered to Gregory Fitzgerald every four minutes or so throughout our final exam in his music theory class. I’d taken enough practice tests and studied what I knew he expected out of us, and planned to get through the exam with little to no argument from him. Analyzing the notes in front of me wasn’t the challenge. It was, as Gregory drilled into us all semester, fairly straightforward on a face-value level. The challenge was ignoring the holes Nathan was staring into the back of my head. Him and the others.

I was horrified. Not only did I have more respect for myself than to date a professor, I certainly wanted no part in messing with his career—since that was all that tethered him to the land of the living.

Or was.

The way he’d kissed me back under that awning showed me something … more. There was life in those eyes. Sensation in those lips. Lust in his tongue.

He kissed me back.

Jesus, what now? I thought to myself as I scribbled answers inside a blue book.

Nothing. Semester over, problem solved. Pretend it never happened.

Chewing on my pen cap as I neared the end of the exam, with loads of time to spare, I glanced across the room at Nathan. As if sensing my eyes on him, he looked up from his paper and toward me. He’d texted me wanting to know if I was okay. I wasn’t, and I hated that I couldn’t talk to him about it because, for one thing, I’d lied to him. I’d known for weeks that what I’d been feeling for Gregory was nothing short of a crush but it was so, so much more. I hadn’t told him about the kiss, either, because I was afraid. Or ashamed.

I really wished, in that moment, that I had old friendship back on solid ground but … this seemed like something I’d have to deal with on my own for a while. But, I wanted Nathan and I to really be okay. We’d been friends for too long to let miscommunication screw us up now. So, I smiled at him. As I did, I watched his shoulders relax as he smiled back. Nathan was graduating in two weeks, and I knew he’d been auditioning for a few symphonies, and, well, I was going to miss him.

I gathered my things and took another look at my paper, scrawling one last thing on it before heading to Gregory’s desk, where he sat looking at pages of music I couldn’t readily identify.

“Here you go, Mr. Fitzgerald.” I couldn’t even fake a smile as I shakily placed the paper in front of him. I didn’t know if he had heard about the rumors involving the two of us. Probably not. If he had heard them, however, I found myself hoping he wasn’t furious with me for kissing him in the first place.