by Jenni James
“Here. This is a chorus of a song I picture, like, for a rocker to sing to his girlfriend, you know. Daughtry or David Cook—that type of voice. I’m warning you, though, it’s not that great. Stuff like this comes to me all the time, so it’s really no big deal.”
I glanced curiously at the phone. Scrolling down, I was surprised to see how long the chorus was, especially since Collin had just winged it.
If the heavens gave me a sign,
And said, “Baby let’s you be mine,”
I would write it on a cloud
And shout my song out loud.
For you.
Only you.
If the heavens gave me a sign,
And said, “Baby, let’s you be mine,”
I’d dance my way to your house,
And beg you to be my spouse.
For you, only you.
And it’s true,
Cuz I love you.
Ohh, he’s a hopeless romantic. “Collin!” I looked up at him.
“Yeah, I know it’s dumb—you don’t have to tell me.” He waved his hands and looked down at his food.
“No. I mean it’s amazingly good for only like two minutes. I swear. If stuff like this comes to you in, like, a matter of seconds, what would happen if you spent a good hour on a song?”
“I don’t know. I never really tried.” He looked shocked. “You think it’s good?”
“Duh. Yeah, it’s good! Are you kidding? What did Madison say when she saw you do this? Does she know you have this talent?”
“Madison?” He looked at her briefly and then stared blankly at his plate. “Yeah, she doesn’t know. I mean, this isn’t something I go bouncing off the walls with. Actually the only person who knows is my mom, and that’s because I put a couple of verses in her Valentine’s card every year. Oh, and I guess you know now.” He glanced back up with obvious concern. “You aren’t gonna go telling people, are you?”
“What? Me? Go around and tell people you’re an absolutely talented genius? I wouldn’t dream of it.” I grinned and handed Collin his phone. “I’m the wrong person to worry about telling people anything. No one really talks to me anyway.” I shrugged. “See? Your secret’s safe.”
“Thanks.” He looked at me a bit warily, and I could tell he wasn’t quite convinced he could trust me.
“You’re welcome.”
Finally, he grinned back.
He is seriously hot when he grins. Madison is crazy. I looked over at her and changed my mind, because she looked like a schoolgirl gazing into Carson’s eyes. I hated to say it, especially with the way she was treating Collin, but she and Carson were definitely meant for each other. From what I could tell so far, she was so much more outgoing and sporty than Collin. And if she didn’t even know the guy well enough to see past his odd phone habit . . .
Wait! That’s what he’s been doing with his phone all along. Collin’s been writing songs. Who knew?
I giggled to myself and glanced around the table. Sean was staring right at me. He raised an eyebrow and winked before I looked away. I wondered what Gregory had told him about me.
Later that night as I was kicking off my flip-flops by the patio table at the pool, I looked up to see Gregory walk out of the guesthouse with a towel in his hand. He stood under the house’s porch light for a moment and peered into the pool. Kylie, Lilly, Madison, and Carson were already swimming. Instead of jumping in the pool like I expected him to, Gregory hesitated and turned around. He saw me, glanced at the pool again, then walked over my table.
“Hey, Andy.”
My throat went so dry I was barely able to croak a faint hello back at him before I nervously wrapped my towel around my waist. Thank goodness Kylie had a one-piece swimsuit, or I would’ve been completely mortified right then.
Gregory silently slipped off his own flip-flops and then smiled as he tossed his towel on the table. “Are you going somewhere? You haven’t already been in the pool, have you?” He looked suspiciously at my dry hair. I held my breath as he reached over and ran his fingers down a lock that had fallen to my shoulder.
“Me? No,” I squeaked up at him. “I—I’m going in the pool now.” He’s close to me, way too close.
“With a towel on?” His eyes connected with mine as he removed his hand.
“Towel?” I looked down. Oh, that towel. “Um, no, of course not. I’ll take it off when I get closer to the pool.”
He chuckled.
I glanced back up at him sharply. “What?” Dang. I could tell he saw through my lame excuse. I prayed he wouldn’t tease me. Something in my eyes must’ve checked his impetuous nature, because he stopped grinning and changed the subject.
“I’m glad you’re alone. I was hoping for a chance to thank you privately.”
“Why?”
“For coming to Collin’s rescue.”
“Oh. Yeah, I didn’t do much—just tried to cheer him up a bit.”
“I was worried for a little while there until you started to talk to him.” Gregory looked over at Madison and Carson splashing each other in the pool. “Those two sure chose the most awkward time to fall in love.” He glanced back at me. “Don’t you think?”
My breath caught as Gregory’s sparkling eyes seared into my own. “Um, yeah, it’s a totally awkward time to fall in love.”
He gazed a few heart-stopping seconds more, then blinked and shook his head slightly. “Are you gonna miss Sean?”
“Who?” Apparently I hadn’t recovered as quickly as Gregory had.
He smiled. “Sean—you know, my cousin?”
“Oh yeah.” Embarrassed, I glanced away.
“Are you sad he had to head back to Bloomfield?”
I shrugged. “Sure, I guess.” With Gregory standing in front of me, the last person I wanted to talk about was Sean Benally.
“Well, we’ll just have to cheer you up then.”
“What?” My eyes flew to his, and I immediately recognized the wicked gleam. “Gregory? What are you thinking?”
He grinned.
Oh no. I knew from past experience that grin was not one to be reckoned with. I watched as he glanced over at the pool before smiling right at me. “Don’t you even think it, Gregory Wentworth! If you throw me into that pool, I’ll—” Clumsily, I took two steps away from him and almost fell over a chair.
Thankfully, Gregory caught me just in time. But before I could even express my thanks to him, he had the nerve to pick me up in his arms, with one hand under my knees, the other around my shoulders, then ask, “What makes you think I would throw you into the pool?”
Uh, hmm, could it be because you’re walking over there? I would’ve protested but his cologne smelled so good I couldn’t speak. The most I could do was kick my feet and hang on for dear life.
Twelve: Wet-n-Wild
“Which part of the pool is the deepest? Do you know?”
Gregory’s whispers in my ear sent shivers through me, and I tried really hard to remember to be mad at him and not to enjoy being in his arms. It was a losing battle. I shook my head for an answer—I really couldn’t trust myself to speak.
“No?” He chuckled. “You don’t know? Well, I guess we’ll have to figure it out ourselves.”
That did it! I started squealing—loudly. The last thing I remember before plunging into the lukewarm water was Gregory’s laughter tickling my ear. He jumped with me! I came to the surface, free of his arms, to find his face smiling above mine.
Water poured from his forehead, streamed past his eyes, and right down to that beaming smile. He laughed as he tried to get the water out of his ears. “Dang, girl. You can scream loud. My ears are still ringing.”
“Serves you right.” I smirked and lowered myself into the water to smooth my hair off my face. I jerked to the side when I saw a big white mass float to the surface. It scared me for a second until I realized what it was. “Hey! You even got my towel wet.” I had forgotten I had wrapped it around my waist.
Gregory laughed as h
e removed the soaking lump and set it on the patio. “That’ll teach you for wearing a towel around a swimming pool.”
“Gregory!” Kylie called as she and Lilly made it over to us. “That looked like so much fun. You have to jump in with me, too.”
“Yeah? You want to?” Gregory climbed out of the pool and waited for her.
Lilly and I waded in the water while watching him scoop Kylie up and jump in with her the same way he had with me. She came out laughing and eager to do it again. Kylie was out and dragging Gregory back up to the patio before he’d even had a chance to wipe the water off his face. He didn’t seem to mind. The way he laughed down at her as he scooped her back up against his broad chest made me realize Kylie didn’t annoy him like I thought she might. Obviously, he was far from annoyed. As a matter of fact, the only one who seemed to be even a tiny bit perturbed by the whole display was me. Even Lilly giggled as Gregory and Kylie crashed back into the water and Kylie yelled, “Again! That was awesome! We’ve gotta do it again!”
Gregory’s answer, “Sure. It’s fun, isn’t it?” sealed it for me.
Good grief. Are they going to do this all night? They’re getting me wet. Never mind the fact that I was in a swimming pool and supposed to get wet—I wasn’t exactly thinking rationally at the moment. All I knew for sure was I wanted to escape Kylie’s screams of delight and Gregory’s laughter. I peered into the dark around the pool. Carson and Madison were talking quietly in the corner under a palm tree. The shallow end of the pool seemed to be the best bet.
I swam over to the steps and sat down on one, allowing the water to lap up around my waist. Kylie and Gregory’s antics had changed from jumping into the pool to dunking and splashing each other. Lilly had joined in, too. I stayed where I was for about ten minutes, in case anyone was watching. I wanted them to think I was actually enjoying myself. Besides, the night breeze was picking up and I didn’t think I’d last much longer. After another five minutes, I glanced once more around the pool and then quickly climbed out.
The air felt cold on my wet skin, and I wished I had my towel. I grabbed my flip-flops and didn’t even bother putting them on before I hurried onto the patio and up the walk to the back door. It was just as I was lifting the handle that I heard a wolf whistle behind me, and a distinct male voice holler, “Who’s the babe without a towel? Where are you going?”
You’ve got to be kidding me. And I thought I’d left unnoticed. Frantic, I managed to jerk the door open, but not before I heard Gregory call out, “Ethan, leave her alone. You’re—” The rest was muffled by the door as it slammed behind me.
When I stepped into the house, the air conditioning hit me like an Arctic breeze. I stopped a moment and slid my shoes on before jogging up to my room. Thankfully, no one was around.
As quick as I could, I jumped into a nice, hot shower to warm back up again. Then I put on some old jeans and a T-shirt.
The night was still young. I debated over which book to choose, figuring I could plop onto one of the soft, comfy couches in the family room and read. Then if anyone came by, it would look like I was still part of the group and interacting and stuff. As I was combing through the books, I came across an autobiography of a famous composer.
Oh my gosh. The piano. I almost forgot. In a flash I was out the door and running—literally running—down the hall to the music room. It was dark, and after a few tries I found and flipped the switches, bathing the room in a sea of warm lights.
The piano beckoned me just as it had before, and I quickly walked up to it. My face would’ve burst if my smile had gotten any bigger. After sitting gingerly on the stool, I carefully lifted the keyboard cover. I took a deep breath and willed my hovering hands to stop shaking. With my thumb, I pushed down on middle C for the first time in over two years, and then, out of nowhere, I cried. Totally cried. Like a baby. The emotions of the past two years washed over me as my fingers galloped and danced their way across the keys, the sound exploding into crescendos all around me. At first I chose strong, vibrant pieces to play before experimenting with softer, calmer melodies. And then as always, I ended with happy, joyful, even playful arrangements that uplifted and tingled all the way into the darkest corners of my heart. When I finished, all that was left was a blissful, carefree being whose body hummed with excitement and enthusiasm.
My tears had long since dried. In fact, I wasn’t quite sure just how long I had been playing, leaping and bounding through song after song. But I did notice the profound stillness of the room when I stopped. It was too still. I looked up into the stunned faces of my all friends. Even Sydney stared at me from across the room.
Oh no. How long have they been here? “Uh, I–I’m sorry.”
No one spoke.
Self-consciously, I shut the cover and stepped off the raised platform. I stood in the center of the room, willing someone to say something.
No one said a word. They all just stared.
Starting to tremble under the pressure of their gaping, I lowered my eyes and said, “Excuse me.”
Once in the hallway, I dashed toward my room. I am such a freak. Seriously. If I’d known I had an audience, I wouldn’t have dreamed of playing like that. Honestly, I couldn’t even begin to imagine just how loud some of my chords were. I didn’t hold anything back for myself, my audience of one. But for them, no, I would’ve chosen much less personal pieces to play—more widely accepted, rational arrangements.
Mortified, I burst into the room and hastily shut the door. I paced a second or two between the bed and the bookshelf, then grabbed a book at random and plunked onto the mattress on my tummy. Bringing my feet up behind me, I opened the book without rhyme or reason to a page and hoped I presented a look of casual bliss. I was somewhere between a galactic battle scene and a New Age war council when I heard the faint knock.
“Amanda?” It was Madison.
“Yeah?”
“Can I come in?” she asked hesitantly.
Great, she sounds afraid of me. “Of course.” I don’t bite. I just get a little carried away on the piano, that’s all.
I heard the door open softly and then shut.
“Uh, are you all right?” Madison walked up to her bed and looked across at me.
I nonchalantly glanced up. “Yeah, why?”
“Oh, you just—you just—it seemed you were a little upset, that’s all.
A little upset. I let the phrase fully sink in. “No. I wasn’t upset.” Confused, embarrassed, and awkward, but not upset.
“Oh.”
I returned to my book. Yep, a New Age war council.
After a few minutes I noticed Madison had found a book on gardening and crashed on her bed, too. She pretended to read a bit until, clearly frustrated, she tossed the book aside and sat up.
Here it comes.
“Where did you learn to play like that?”
I pretended to read a few more sentences before turning toward her. “Huh?”
Madison laughed out loud. “You aren’t any more interested in that book than I am in mine.” She shoved her book closer to the edge of her bed for emphasis.
I chuckled and closed the paperback. “Caught me. Sci-fi’s aren’t my thing anyway.”
She grinned. “So are you going to answer me or what?”
“Gee, how do most overly spoiled rich girls learn to do anything?” I sighed as I sat up. “By Daddy paying for the best instructor money can buy.”
“I don’t believe that for two seconds.” She snorted.
“Why not? It’s true.”
“Because, first off, you’re not spoiled. Second, a million instructors in the world couldn’t have taught me how to play like that. And thirdly, you devoured that piano like you hadn’t played one in years.”
Good grief. I would get stuck with a roommate with psychic abilities. I decided to change the subject. “How do you do that?”
“What?”
“Read people so well?”
Madison shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve al
ways been that way. I guess I’m just more observant than most people, or something.” She looked at me funny a moment and then grinned. “Good try, by the way.”
Dang. “What? It didn’t work?”
“Nope, it didn’t work.” She tucked her feet underneath her. “So why would a musical prodigy need to come all the way to Moab just to play a piano?”
“We don’t own one.”
“Why not?”
“Can’t afford it. The money my family had, we lost. Besides, it’s a good thing they sold the grand piano or we would’ve never had a place for it in the new house.”
“How long ago?”
“Just over two years.”
“So you never got an upright? Or a keyboard, or anything? Your family hasn’t bought you anything to replace it with?”
“My sister got a new fuel-efficient car.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet. I’m not talking about Sydney. Why wouldn’t your parents buy you a piano?”
“Because I’m the only one who plays.”
“So.”
“So?”
“Yeah, so what. Do you share Sydney’s car?”
“Uh, no.”
“Do you have a car?”
“No. But I don’t want one. I can use my parents’ cars.”
“Are you kidding me?” Madison raised her hands in a no-shoot gesture. “I think I’m going to cry!”
“That’s not even funny, Madison.”
“I didn’t say it was. I’m serious. Do you realize you probably live with the most selfish family in the world?”
“Uh—” was all I managed to gasp out before Madison plunged on.
“Do you have any idea why we were all so speechless earlier? Any clue at all?”
I shook my head.
“You’re good! You’re not just good, you’re amazing. Seriously. You’re incredible! The most talented person any of us had ever come close to in our entire lives.”
What? One small tear crept to the corner of my eye.
“And the crazy thing is, Sydney didn’t even know it! She was just as flabbergasted as we were. Sydney, who can’t ever have anything come out of her mouth unless it’s an insult, actually complimented you!”