“This party tonight is gonna kick ass,” Colin said through a grin.
Chase nodded his agreement, playing a wild drum solo on the dashboard along with the radio. Two cars passed them then, covered in red and black streamers with “Go Devils” painted on the windows, their horns blasting as the passengers waved and shouted unintelligibly to Chase and Colin. They shouted back, laying on their horn and laughing.
“This is so weird,” Chase said as Colin turned into the McGuire’s driveway and cut the engine. “I feel like a celebrity.”
“Tonight, my friend, you are,” he said, playfully punching his arm before he exited the car. Chase hopped out, grabbing his soccer bag and walking quickly up the drive with Colin behind him.
“I’m starving. Can we eat something?” Colin asked.
“Yeah, let’s grab something quick and then we can shower and head out,” Chase said as he opened the front door and turned into his expansive kitchen, looking over his shoulder at Colin. “I just want to get to this party.”
He turned back around and stopped short for only a second before he continued on into the kitchen, his eyes now downcast. “Dad,” he said, his voice lacking the inflection of surprise even though he had not expected to see his father there.
As he heard the sound of Colin coming into the room behind him, Chase couldn’t decide if he was more annoyed at having to deal with his father when he was trying to enjoy his good mood, or more embarrassed that his father was sitting in the kitchen reading the paper instead of at the biggest game of his high school career.
“Hey, Mr. McGuire,” Colin said from behind Chase, a hint of surprise in his voice. “I thought you had to work.”
Chase’s father did not lift his eyes from the newspaper in front of him, but rather he brought the paper up a bit higher, shielding part of his face. “I did. It was paperwork. I got it done in the home office.”
“Oh. Well, you should have come to the game,” Colin said, still riding his own high. “It was unbelievable!”
The silence that followed Colin’s enthusiastic voice seemed to pull the air out of the enormous kitchen, and his smile slowly faded as he glanced toward Chase.
Chase immediately turned away, giving undue attention to unpacking his soccer bag and tossing the dirty clothes into the adjacent laundry room, his hands fumbling with the simple task as he tried to make it quick. He just wanted to get out of there. They could get something to eat on the way to the party.
“It was amazing, Mr. McGuire,” Colin added, trying again, and Chase closed his eyes and exhaled softly. Stop, he thought to himself. Please, just stop.
“We were down two to nothing at the half, and then we scored with about five minutes to go, and then with six seconds left to the game, Chase scored the tying goal,” Colin said, slapping his hand on the counter, the excitement taking over his voice again. “But that’s not even the best part! The best part is, this kid then gets the ball and scores again like fifteen seconds into sudden death! You should have heard the crowd.”
Chase heard the rustling of a newspaper, his father’s exaggerated sigh.
“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” Chase said dully, his back to the kitchen as he quickly zipped up his soccer bag.
Colin whirled on him. “Dude, are you kidding me?” he asked, his eyebrows nearly in his hairline.
“For once, I’m inclined to agree with my son,” Chase’s father said.
The room fell silent again, and Chase finally stood and turned, catching sight of Colin’s uneasy expression before his eyes landed on his father.
“I keep telling you, Chase,” his father said, his voice detached and his eyes still on his paper. “Do you really think soccer is what’s going to make you a great man? If you spent half the time and effort you put into that ridiculous game on something that was worthwhile, you might have been able to make a name for yourself at that school.”
Chase dropped his eyes before he turned away, his jaw flexing as he reached for the handle of the fridge, just to be doing something. He wasn’t even hungry anymore.
Did his father have to do this now? On the tail end of his victory?
Right in front of his friend?
“We have cold cuts,” Chase said to Colin, his voice straining with the effort to remain upbeat. “You want a sandwich?”
But Colin wasn’t listening; his eyes were focused on the man sitting at the island counter. “Um, with all due respect, Mr. McGuire, Chase’s name is known,” Colin said, and Chase knew his friend well enough to detect the irascibility behind the politeness in his voice.
Chase pulled his brow together, trying to focus on the food in the fridge instead of the conversation behind him. He knew Colin was trying to defend him, but to Chase, it was like watching a puppy playing on the side of a highway. He knew how it would end, and he didn’t want to watch.
“And not just for soccer,” Colin added. “I mean, he’s graduating in the top five percent of our class.” Colin’s eyes were wide, as if he couldn’t comprehend having to explain the merits of such a thing, especially to Chase’s father.
The newspaper rustled again, and Chase turned to see his father staring at Colin over the top if it.
“But not at the top, right?”
Chase closed his eyes and shook his head, wishing that Colin would just realize he couldn’t win, wishing that his dad would get fed up with the conversation and leave.
Wishing that he hadn’t come home in the first place.
“I’m sorry?” Colin asked, clearly unnerved.
“He’s graduating in the top five percent, but not at the top. There were kids above him, correct?” his father asked, his eyes still on Colin and his voice even.
Silence.
“That’s my point,” he said, folding his newspaper. “He could have done better. He should have done better.”
Chase closed the fridge and turned then, knowing he had to save his friend from what he had inadvertently started. Colin’s eyes were downcast, and Chase was relieved that he didn’t have to look him in the eyes.
“You want the shower first?” Chase asked, not even trying to maintain his cheerful façade now.
But before Colin could answer, Mr. McGuire turned toward Chase for the first time since they’d entered the kitchen. “A little focus is all I ask from you,” he said with a reproachful sigh. “I know you’re not worthless. I wish you’d stop acting like it.” And with that he stood and walked out of the kitchen without a backward glance.
It was quiet for a few seconds, the only sound being his father’s heavy footsteps fading down the hall, until Chase cleared his throat softly. “So…you want a sandwich?” he asked, turning back toward the fridge, his forced indifference pathetically transparent, even to him.
“No, I’m good,” Colin said softly. “You wanna just shower and get out of here?”
Chase didn’t answer. Instead he shut the fridge as he leaned over and grabbed his empty soccer bag, swinging it over his shoulder and walking briskly toward the stairs. He could hear the sounds of Colin following him, although he said nothing.
Chase walked past his room, throwing his bag haphazardly into the doorway as he continued down the hall to the linen closet, reaching in and grabbing two towels. He walked back toward Colin, tossing him one as he turned into his room.
“I’m sorry,” Colin said suddenly. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Chase forced a smile. “He would have found a way to make that point without your help. Don’t worry about it.”
Colin looked down, nodding softly as he turned the towel over in his hands. He was just about to turn and head toward the bathroom when he stopped and faced Chase again.
“Can you do me a favor?”
Chase looked up at him.
“Can you just try and remember how you were feeling ten minutes ago?”
Chase closed his eyes and laughed humorlessly. “I’m not gonna ruin your time tonight,” he said dryly. “Just leave it alone. I’ll
be fine.”
Colin shook his head. “I could give a fuck about the party, Chase. Just humor me. Do you remember how you felt ten minutes ago?”
Chase pursed his lips, his eyes trained on the ground, and nodded slowly.
“Good,” Colin said. “Remember that feeling. Because as good as that felt, it’s gonna feel a hundred times better when you make something of yourself, in spite of that asshole.”
Chase raised his eyes just in time to see Colin smile softly; he banged on the doorframe twice with the side of his fist before he pushed away from it and walked down the hall to the bathroom.
They never spoke of that conversation again.
But Chase often wondered if Colin realized what he had given him that day. More times than he could even count, he found himself clinging to those words like a life preserver.
Sometimes they were the only thing that kept his head above water.
The sounds of movement on the other side of Andie’s door pulled Chase from the memory, and he blinked quickly, refocusing on the present.
He shouldn’t be here.
And just as that epiphany dawned on him, he heard the sounds of the deadbolt sliding aside as the door opened a crack. He could see the outline of her peeking out, and it felt like his heart stopped in his chest as the door finally swung open.
She stood there, her expression somewhat stunned.
“What are you doing here?” she asked quietly.
He had no idea what he was thinking, why he came there instead of just calling her. It was such a stupid move, he realized.
But he couldn’t leave again. Not until he made this right.
Chase took a breath, his eyes dropping for a second. “Last night,” he said, looking back up at her. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry again—”
“It’s fine,” she said, cutting him off.
“No, it’s not,” he said with a shake of his head. “I shouldn’t have done it. I invaded your privacy, and I had no right—”
“I’m glad you did it,” she said, and he froze.
“You are?” he finally managed.
She nodded, her eyes on his. “Yeah…I mean…it’s ridiculous for me to spend all that time and effort on something and then never let anybody read it.” She glanced down, licking her lips before she looked back up at him. “And thank you. For being honest about everything.”
He stared at her for a second before he nodded, completely taken off guard. He hadn’t expected it to be that easy, for her to be so understanding of his blatantly insensitive behavior.
Chase stood at her threshold as another silence fell over them. There was nothing left to say, and yet there was everything left to say.
He should go now. He knew he should. He had served his purpose for coming. He apologized, and she forgave him. There was no reason for him to stay any longer.
And yet there he stood, his mind searching for any excuse to prolong this time with her.
“Do you want a lesson?” he asked suddenly, nodding over her shoulder.
She turned her head to the side, looking in the direction he had indicated, at the piano up against the wall. It was a moment before she turned back around to face him.
“It helps a headache,” he added with a tiny shrug.
She stood there, saying nothing, and for a minute Chase hoped she would turn him down. He knew that leaving was the right thing to do, but he obviously wasn’t going to be strong enough to make that decision on his own. The sight of her, the sound of her voice, it was always enough to blur the lines of right and wrong for him.
And then, to his complete dismay and utter satisfaction, she stepped to the side, granting him access to her apartment.
He hesitated before he stepped inside, walking a few feet into her living room, and as he heard her close the door behind him, he felt something like triumph course through him, momentarily alleviating his mind-numbing guilt.
He was at war with himself, and in that moment, he realized with dread, he had no idea which side would prevail.
Too afraid to turn back around and look at her, he approached the piano bench and sat down, running his fingertips over the keys. Chase felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, aware that Andie had come up behind him, and instinctively he slid to the right, giving her space to sit on the bench next to him.
She sat down quietly, her movements slow and cautious, like a frightened animal.
“I can’t read music,” she said.
The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. “That’s okay. There are only a few chords to the song. I’ll just teach you those.”
There was a pause before she said, “I don’t know chords either.”
He laughed to himself, and he heard her laugh softly next to him. A flash of relief ran through his body as the awkwardness between them grew fuzzy around the edges, revealing a glimpse of the comfort and ease that existed for them within the confines of Andie’s car only a few weeks ago.
“I’m gonna be an awful student.”
Chase shook his head. “No, you won’t. Here. The right hand is a little tricky, so I’ll just teach you the left. It’s the same four chords over and over. You can play that part and I’ll do the rest.”
He reached over and brought her left hand to the piano, the movement causing their shoulders to touch, and he closed his eyes for a second, attempting to get his bearings before he positioned her hand over the keys.
“You’re gonna start with A, working in octaves,” he said. His voice trembled slightly, and he cleared his throat before he continued. “That just means that you’re going to press two A’s at the same time. It makes the note richer.”
He splayed her hand over the keys, placing her pinky and thumb where they belonged before laying his hand on top of hers. He aligned his fingers with hers so that his thumb and pinky rested over Andie’s, and he pressed them down gently, causing her to play the notes. She arched her fingers under his touch, curling her hand into his own and increasing the pressure of his skin on hers.
He inhaled a shallow breath as he felt a warm fluttering low in his stomach.
“A,” he said softly, keeping his eyes on their hands as he gently moved hers to the next position. “And you’ll just keep using the same fingers,” he murmured, placing her pinky and thumb over the black keys this time. Once again he laid his hand over hers, lightly pressing his fingers into Andie’s as he made her play the notes, and he felt her body shift infinitesimally closer to his. “B sharp,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
He leaned toward her as he guided her hand down the keys to the next position, causing the length of her right arm to rub against his waist, and he felt the skin there tingle and burn beneath his shirt.
“F,” he murmured, playing the notes with her, and she splayed her hand, allowing his fingers to slip between hers. For a breathless second, their fingers intertwined, and Chase closed his eyes as he clenched his jaw. He heard her exhale a trembling breath next to him, and his right hand curled into a fist at his side, fighting every instinct surging through his body.
Chase inhaled slowly before he opened his eyes and unraveled their fingers, bringing her hand back to its starting position. “Back to the A’s,” he said softly, pressing his fingers over hers and playing the notes again.
He could feel the heat of her body as if it were a tangible thing. It permeated his clothes, his skin, his entire being, igniting a fire that was threatening to rage out of control, to consume any sound reasoning within him and hand him over to his impulses.
He realized then that his heart was racing, and for the first time since they sat down, he chanced a look at her; her eyes were on him, her expression unreadable.
Chase swallowed hard, attempting to get control over his voice. “It’s an eight count,” he said softly. “You’re gonna play on the ones.”
“Okay,” she whispered, her eyes locked on his.
Reluctantly he pulled his eyes from hers and looked down at their hands. “If
you start with your hand on mine, I’ll help you,” he said.
Andie slid her hand over the top of Chase’s, aligning their fingers again. “Okay,” she breathed, and Chase felt the heat in his stomach spread up into his chest and out through his extremities.
He took a small breath as he brought his right hand to the keys, positioning his fingers and playing the opening notes. He kept his eyes on her hand over his, their fingers twined together as she followed his lead, pressing her fingers over his when she felt him play the notes. His right hand glided effortlessly over the keys, dancing over the smooth surface, and in his mind, it was her skin at his fingertips; he caressed it over and over with light, fleeting touches that made the air around them sing.
She inclined her head toward him, and his breath caught in his throat.
“Chase,” she whispered.
His fingers stilled on the keys and he closed his eyes. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take.
“Can you play for me?” she asked softly, carefully sliding her hand off of his. He felt her shift on the bench next to him, bringing her body impossibly closer, and he kept his eyes closed, trying to focus on the feel of the keys beneath his fingers, the ticking of the clock in the corner, anything but the woman next to him, the smell of her, the heat of her.
He swallowed as he repositioned his left hand, and slowly, he began to play. Within a few notes, all of his pent-up emotion had worked its way through his fingertips, and suddenly the notes were everywhere, filling the room and swirling around them, pulling at him and pushing him, drowning him in the moment, and he didn’t think he’d ever want to resurface.
He felt Andie move beside him, and without warning, the length of her thigh was pressed up against his, any measure of space between them now completely forsaken.
His instincts took over momentarily, and he pressed his leg against hers, stifling a groan when he heard the nearly inaudible gasp that fell from her lips.
Chase set his jaw, his eyes still closed, and began to focus on the lyrics to the song in a desperate attempt to keep his mind rational.
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