by S. M. Shade
“All right,” Travis says, joining Dalton and me downstairs. “Kids are asleep.”
“Why can’t you just have your wife do that?” Dalton scoffs, shuffling the cards.
Travis pulls three beers out of the fridge in the corner and sets them on the table. “That’s why you’ll always be single.”
“I’ll always be single because no woman can handle all this.” Dalton runs his hand down his chest.
“You forget, I’ve talked to some of your victims. Janie said your dick was so small she had to pucker up to suck it.”
Dalton shakes his head. “You’re full of shit. I didn’t do anything with her. That girl is a pinata. You’d need a blindfold to hit it.”
“Are you going to deny getting with Big Helen too?” I ask, grinning. Big Helen is not called that because she’s fat. She’s pure muscle. She dubbed herself Big Helen in the live exercise videos that she streams to teach people her workout routine.
Travis pauses as he’s dealing the cards and looks at Dalton. “Holy shit. Did you? I’d be afraid. Her arms are so muscled she looks like she’d finish sucking a dick then bash it against her forehead like a beer can.”
Dalton shrugs. “She came to my place, but she wanted it in the ass. I’m not a fan, but we tried it. Got shit everywhere. Not a good time.”
Travis and I both howl with laughter. “You can’t go to the shit’s house and be surprised when the shit is home,” I point out.
We settle into our game, and we’re a few beers in when I notice Dalton keeps looking at me. “What?”
Sitting back in his seat, he snatches up his phone from the table. “I wasn’t sure whether to show you this, but if it were me, I’d want to know.”
The second he turns his phone around, my night is ruined. It’s worse than a punch in the stomach or a kick in the balls. In the picture displayed, Kelly sits at a table across from a guy, staring him in the eye as he talks. It takes me another second to realize his hand is on hers.
“Where was this?”
“Green’s Steakhouse. I was there last night. That’s the student you were seeing right? I mean, I know you only showed us a picture of her, but I thought it looked—”
“It’s her.” She’s on a date. It’s ridiculous how shocked I feel about it. She’s young and beautiful. Did I really think she wouldn’t date? I guess I wasn’t trying to think about that, just missing her was enough. Seeing her with someone else rips me open.
Travis hands me another beer. “You never did tell us what happened with her. You lost your job over her and everything.”
“That wasn’t her fault.” I can’t even blame Owen if he was the one who told. I’m the one who broke their rules.
I point my finger at Dalton. “And don’t creep on her and take her picture again.”
Dalton chuckles, draining his beer. “Relax, it’s not like I jerked off to it.”
They can see I’m not happy to talk about it, and we go back to the game. A few beers later, with the thoughts of her still beating against my skull, I blurt out, “She was a virgin.”
Both of them look at me like I’ve lost my mind until I clarify. “Kelly, she was a virgin.”
“You took her virginity?” Travis asks.
“No, but I was seconds away when she told me. I left and she hasn’t accepted my calls or messages since.”
Dalton is the first to speak up. “Good call, dude. Virgins are super clingers. I’m talking like barnacles on steroids. You’ll never get rid of them.”
“He didn’t want rid of her, you dipshit.” Travis looks at me. “Did you?”
“No.”
“You weren’t trying to fuck and run. You wanted a relationship, right?”
“Yes, I wanted a relationship with her.”
Travis sits back, takes a swig from his beer bottle, then sets it on the table. “Just know when I say this, I mean it from the bottom of my heart. You’re a fucking idiot.”
His words catch me off guard, and Dalton snorts out a laugh.
Travis continues. “You left her because you didn’t want to take her virginity? So, you want someone else to be her first?”
The thought makes my stomach roil. “No!”
Travis shrugs and crosses his arms. “No, man, I get it. It makes perfect sense. Let someone else break her in and then you can date her. Solid plan.”
Anger and regret rush through my bloodstream, and I run my hands through my hair in frustration. “Fuck!” He’s right. I am a fucking idiot.
Both my friends stare at me for a long moment until I announce, “I need to win her back.”
Travis nods, shoving another beer in my hand. “Glad that’s settled. Now, any idea how to do it?”
After a moment of thought, I nod. “I know how I can try.”
I hope I’m not too late.
“Penelope.” The head of the music department looks up at me from her desk.
I’m relieved to see no judgement or scorn in her expression, only the same friendliness she usually has for me. While I’m not sure exactly what was told to the staff about my dismissal, I’m confident the rumors have been flying and most people probably know.
“Hi, I was wondering about you.”
Hefting the bag off of my shoulder, I put the keyboard down. “I came to return this. Thank you so much for loaning it to me.”
“Of course.” She gets to her feet and comes around her desk. “How are you doing? Are you still trying to learn to play?”
“I’m fine, and yes, I’m going to buy a keyboard today to continue practicing, but I didn’t want to get you into any trouble for loaning this one out, now that I’m not employed here anymore.”
“I heard about that. I’m sorry.”
“Do I want to know what you heard?”
The corner of her mouth tucks in, and she looks like she’s trying not to smile. “Let’s see, the last I heard you had a full blown orgy in the culinary department in which whipped cream was used.”
“You’re fucking with me.” It’s not outside the realm of possibility knowing the rumor mill here.
Laughing, she throws her head back. “Yes, I’m fucking with you. You should see your face.” Penelope is one of the ones I’ll miss from this place. Nearing sixty, she’s been teaching for twenty-eight years and nothing seems to push her out of her bubbly personality. “The faculty was only told you resigned. Though the accepted truth is you had an inappropriate relationship with a student.” Her head tilts, and she raises her eyebrows at me in a silent question.
“It’s true. Kind of. She was my student, but we didn’t start dating until after she dropped my class.” Before she can comment, I hasten to add. “She’s twenty, not underage.”
Penelope leans against her desk and the few seconds of silence are awkward as hell. Is she judging me? Calling me a pervert in her head? “Did I ever tell you how I met my husband, Andrew?”
The sharp change of subject is enough to cause whiplash, but I’m willing if she is. “I don’t think you have.”
“Twenty-five years ago, a young man who wanted to be a country singer took my music class. Sat right in the front row the first day.” Her smile is soft as she reminisces. “Oh, he was a cocky thing, so sure of himself, but there was something about him that clicked with me from first sight. Weeks went by as I tried to fight it, and we spent more and more time together while I helped him learn guitar. There were rumors, considering he was twenty-two and I was thirty-one—and his teacher—but we were fortunate. People don’t look at it the same when it’s an older woman. Anyway, as soon as the semester ended, he proposed, and here we are twenty-five years later with two grown children and still very happy together.”
She looks me in the eye. “Screw the rules. They’re temporary.”
“Did Andrew end up being a country singer?”
Penelope waves her hand at me. “Oh lord no, the man couldn’t sing for shit. He still plays the guitar, though.”
“Thank you for that story,” I te
ll her. “I hate to ask, but I need one more favor.”
She listens as I explain that I promised to play a duet with someone, and I’m struggling with the timing of a few chords. We end up at the piano while she corrects me and helps me get it right. Finally, I think I have it.
“Practice every day and I’m sure Ms. Bryant won’t be disappointed,” Penelope says, as I’m getting ready to leave.
My head whips around and I’m met with a knowing grin. “I’ve heard her practicing that song for her project. Good luck, Layton. She’s a lovely woman. Talented too.”
“Thanks for everything.”
My next stop is Cooper’s Music but not to see Kelly. She doesn’t want to talk to me, and I’m not going to accost her at work, but Cooper’s is the only music store in town. Luckily, her scooter isn’t parked out front and the older man who sells me a keyboard isn’t someone who has been there when I’ve had lessons before.
As soon as I get home, I set up my new keyboard to practice. I only have a couple of weeks to get it right and get my girl back.
Chapter Eighteen
Kelly
Even with all I’ve had to do, the last two weeks have inched by. There haven’t been any more dates after that last disaster and I’m in no hurry. Chances are I’d spend the whole time comparing the guy to the one I really want.
My mind needs to be on other things anyway. The concert I’ve put together for the retirement home is only a couple of hours away, and my nerves are frayed to threads. There are five solo acts that are going to perform, plus a small choir performance at the end. I was surprised how many volunteered, even students who didn’t need it for a class credit. My teacher, Mrs. Lee is coming, along with the head of the music department, Penelope Harlan. She helped me get the choir involved.
The residents are excited as well, especially Melina. It’s been pure luck that I’ve managed to avoid Layton the last few times I’ve gone to the home to volunteer, though I always try to go at different times. Melina is determined to get me and Layton back together, so I know if she knew when I was going to be there, she’d make sure he was there too. It’s not like I can tell her why we don’t see each other anymore. What am I supposed to say? “Oh sorry, Grandma, your grandson doesn’t pop cherries.”
Everything considered, I have to say I’m proud of the way I’ve handled things. I made it through my first heartbreak, started working full time, and day by day I feel more like an adult instead of a fumbling kid.
Well, most of the time. I still managed to burn a cup of Ramen. In the microwave. But that was because Serena got me high, and I may have forgotten to add water. It only smoked a little, and the fire department showing up was total overkill in my opinion.
“Kelly!” Serena calls. “Someone’s at the door for you!”
It’s a little odd that she didn’t say who, and I see why when I answer the door. “Kelly Bryant?” A young man holding a dozen roses stands in front of me.
“That’s me.”
Who would send me flowers? Is it a good luck gift from my brother? I bring them inside, and Serena returns with a vase while I read the card.
Good luck tonight, beautiful. Love, Layton.
“Who are they from?” Zara asks.
I’m not sure I can talk without my voice cracking, so I hand her the card. It gets passed from her to Serena to Remee. They’re all staring at me trying to gauge my reaction.
Swallowing the knot in my throat, I shake my head. “Why would he send these? We haven’t…I haven’t talked to him since that night.”
“Has he tried to get in touch?”
Serena hands me the vase, and I arrange the beautiful bouquet. “The first few weeks. I never replied.”
Zara’s voice is soft. “Do you want to talk to him?”
They follow me to my room, and I place the vase on my dresser. “Every day, but I don’t know what good it would do.”
“He might want to apologize and, you know, try again,” Remee says. “He’s obviously still thinking about you. Is that what you want? Or have you moved on?”
Sighing, I sit on my bed. “I’ve tried to move on, but I still care about him. I still want him, even if that’s pathetic, to want someone who left me.”
Love. He wrote Love Layton on the card.
“It’s not pathetic,” Serena says. “It’s human.”
“And people make mistakes,” Remee adds. “It just comes down to whether you think it’s worth the risk to forgive them and give it another chance.”
“That’s your choice to make,” Zara says.
Serena nods and joins me on the bed. “That’s right. If you want to talk to him, we aren’t going to judge. Or if you want to take these flowers, grind them up and shove them up his exhaust pipe, that’s fine too.”
“We’ve got your back, no matter what,” Remee adds. “Except for the exhaust pipe thing. That might kill him.” She turns to Serena. “Unless you were using a euphemism to refer to his asshole.”
“I wasn’t, but I am now.”
God, I love these girls. I lean over to hug Serena and wave for the others to join in. “I love you bitches, you know that?” As the group hug breaks apart, I add, “It doesn’t matter whether I’d give him another chance. Even if I wanted to try again, it wouldn’t work. I’m still a virgin and that’s clearly a dealbreaker for him.”
“Men are such idiots,” Serena says with a sigh.
For a few minutes after they leave my room, I stare at my phone. Twice, I pick it up and set it back down, so tempted to call him. Finally, I send a text.
Me: Thank you for the flowers. They’re gorgeous.
The second I hit send I want to take it back. Nothing good can come of this, but I would’ve felt bad not at least acknowledging his gift.
Layton: You’re welcome. See you soon, Kelly.
The message is followed by a heart, but it feels a little like a threat to my rapidly beating heart. Because I know how hard it’ll be to see him again. Distance has helped me get over that initial twisting pain, but what I told the girls was true, if not a bit of an understatement. I’m still head over heels for this man and knowing I can’t have him is going to be a lot harder when we’re face to face.
What does soon mean? Is he coming to the concert tonight? Does he plan on getting in touch again later? Ugh! As much as I want to send him questions until he clarifies, I need to get ready. I’m meeting the others at the retirement home in less than an hour.
I don’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed when I pull into the parking lot of the retirement home and see that Layton’s truck isn’t there. My head has been all over the place since I read that card.
It’s good to see all the other students have showed up, and everyone is in the dining room, getting prepared. The show is taking place in the lounge, so the empty dining room has become a sort of green room for the ones waiting their turn. Not one trace of my anxiety has to do with tonight’s concert. After all, it’s just a few kids playing for a room of elderly people, not a Broadway show. As the minutes tick by, I keep glancing toward the door, waiting to see Layton come in. I guess some part of me did expect him to show up.
“Okay, let’s do this,” I announce, and the first few acts head out to the lounge while the choir members stay behind to get their robes on. A theater major, a guy named Dash, will introduce everyone except me, since I’ll be starting the show.
The lounge is fuller than I’ve ever seen it. They’ve even wheeled a few patients out in their beds, and everyone looks excited and happy. It quiets immediately when I stand by the end of the room they’ve marked off as a stage and hold up my hands. It isn’t raised or anything, but it’s in a good spot, where everyone should be able to see us.
“Hi everyone. I know some of you know me from the other times I’ve visited and played a bit of piano, but for those who don’t, I’m Kelly. My classmates and I are going to perform for you tonight and we hope you’ll enjoy it.”
There’s a round of
clapping, and I glance around once more before sitting at the piano. Melina waves at me, a wide smile on her face, and I wave back.
Once I’ve finished playing, I barely realize it. I let my fingers on the keys and the music take me away like it always does. To a place where nothing else exists or matters, least of all a sexy teacher who ran away with my heart. When I stand up and give a bow during the applause, my breath catches in my throat.
Layton stands beside his grandmother, who sits on the end of one of the couches. He’s dressed up, and I’ve never seen a man look so good in a dark suit. He came. Now what the hell do I do? Running over and leaping at him crotch first seems to be my first impulse.
Dash steps up beside me. “That was Kelly Bryant on piano. Next we have Trisha Montague playing the violin.”
Oh yeah, I’m supposed to get my ass offstage now. With a smile and wave, I rush to the opposite side of the room, as far away from the man who hasn’t taken his eyes off me as I can get.
The concert goes well. One after the other, everyone performs, and the residents seem to love it. There are a few mistakes, but nothing anyone probably even noticed. My music teacher and the head of the music department sit together and both flash smiles in my direction.
The choir is the last to perform and they sound amazing. As they finish and file out, Dash takes the mic to announce that the show is over and thank everyone, as planned, but he’s stopped when Layton puts a hand over the mic and says something to him. Dash nods and his gaze lands on me as he hands the mic over to Layton.
What the hell is he doing?
“Hey,” Layton says, fidgeting with the mic cord a little. I’m glad I’m not the only one who’s nervous. “I’m Layton, and most of you know me. I’m Melina’s grandson. She’s the one who looks like she’s trying to figure out whether to be proud or hide under the table.” He points her out and waves, while titters run through the room. “Hi Grandma.”