I recognized him, at least somewhat. Lydia was likely right. I remembered him from the panel at my graduate school audition. I couldn’t recall his name. He looked like a pompous asshole. Smug. A rich, smug asshole that had likely ridden on the coattails of his parents his entire life.
What was wrong with me? He was a perfectly normal looking man. On a perfectly normal looking date. I didn’t recognize the feeling that was making my blood boil. Jealousy? Was I jealous? As soon as Juliet started to turn her attention towards me, I looked back at the group, trying to lose myself in conversation. I was hardly paying attention. Lydia shook my shoulder, leaving her hand resting around me.
“Emma wants to play for the Philharmonic after school,” Lydia beamed. I smiled, nodding in agreement. “Though I don’t know why you’d want to work with such a stuck-up like Professor Hamilton when you could come to Norway with me.”
It had been the third or fourth time Lydia had brought up Norway in conversation as of late. Although it saddened me we’d be split up in a few months, I still hadn’t changed my mind. “I’ve been dreaming about that orchestra since I first played the piano. Miranda plays in the Philharmonic too,” I reminded Lydia.
Dreams can change. Lydia signed when I turned my attention towards her. I couldn’t help but smile at her, leaning my head on her shoulder.
For a while, I lost myself in the conversation at the table, doing my best to keep up. When my eyes would wander towards Juliet and her date, I’d fuss at myself in my head. There was no reason for me to keep looking. She was on a date. I should let her be. Yet, even still, those stupid bouts of jealousy would hit me and it was agonizing. When they got up from their table after the music started, my whole body followed her to the dance floor.
Lydia tapped me on the shoulder, and I looked at her. What is it? She followed my gaze out to the dance floor as the pair started to dance. I was in awe watching her. Not only was she a musician with talent beyond anything I’d ever seen, she was a dancer too. A fantastic dancer I couldn’t keep my eyes from. Lydia let me be, my eyes on them the entire song.
When the next song slowed, and they moved together, I had to turn away. My classmates were still wrapped in conversation and I did my best to keep up, forcing down the knots in my stomach. It seemed to work until I saw Juliet pacing down the walkway towards the restrooms.
With several Long Island iced teas settling inside me, it occurred to me in that moment, how much I wanted Juliet to dance with me. Even with how silly it was, how reckless and irresponsible it was to ask. Before Lydia or anyone was able to stop me, I got up from the table, trailing after her. The door to her stall had already closed by the time I’d gotten inside. When I saw it, I stood contemplating calling out to her. Instead I paused for a moment, before I walked into the other stall, closing the door behind me. My confidence dissipated. I waited for her to leave the room before I walked to the sink, splashing cold water on my face. There was something wrong with me, the way I craved her attention. I’d never desired the attention of someone so much before.
Before I convinced myself to be brave enough again, she’d disappeared from the building, along with that too attractive of a man she’d brought with her. My heart sunk in my chest. I was nauseous. Instead of staying at the table, I headed towards the front door.
The night was a little chillier than I had expected. I saw the fancy car headed down the road. Most likely with Juliet and her date inside. My stomach churned. I waited until it disappeared. As soon as it did, a hand wrapped around my waist.
You want to head back to my place? Lydia signed. I nodded, not wanting to spend another moment there. It had been the first time in my life I’d felt that way. I loved the Red Door. Every time I’d come after my father’s band broke up, it brought back fond memories.
Lydia looped her arm around mine. Her apartment building was a short distance from the club. I’d walked a few times before along this route. It was a safe area. My head was dizzy as we walked, the effects of the alcohol I’d drank settling in. Lydia had downed several more than me, and I could tell by her giggles, and the awkward way she leaned on me, it was hitting her hard.
Five minutes into the walk, I was ranting about Juliet. My jealousy having turned to annoyance to distract myself. “She’s such an arrogant woman.” I sighed. “I still can’t believe she gave me a D on that composition assignment. I didn’t deserve a D.” I’d forgot I was even walking next to Lydia. She seemed as if she was listening the entire time, though I couldn’t tell without looking at her. Finally, there was a tug on my arm.
“You have quite the obsession with her.” Lydia raised a brow.
“I am not obsessed with Professor Hamilton,” I snapped. “The last person I’d ever be obsessed with is Professor Hamilton. She’s an awful human being.” I didn’t think I could have even convinced myself of that lie.
“All you do is talk about her,” Lydia said when I was looking at her again. “You two are constantly at each other’s throats and arguing with each other in class. Everyone is talking about how you were screaming at her over that assignment. She didn’t even reprimand you for it.”
“I didn’t deserve to be reprimanded!” I argued, though she had a point. Even in my anger, she’d barely scolded me. “She was wrong. She deserved to be fucking yelled at.” My hand clapped over my mouth, embarrassed. It hadn’t occurred to me until that moment, how ridiculous I’d been. Juliet hadn’t done a thing in response. She’d just let me, without repercussion.
“It’s clear there’s something going on,” Lydia noted. “No professor in their right mind would have ever let you get away with that. Not to mention what I’ve heard about the way you guys act around each other when you’re playing together.”
A tinge of annoyance flickered through me. Juliet having feelings for me? The idea seemed ludicrous. Someone with that much talent, who was so well-respected in the music community. Someone who breathed music. I’d never imagine she’d want anything to do with a graduate student like me. “That’s impossible. We don’t even know each other. She’s my professor, for God’s sake.”
Lydia rolled her eyes and started to walk again. I trailed off after her. We didn’t speak again the entire rest of the trip. Instead, we walked side by side, taking in the scenery. The area was beautiful, thick with trees that lined the streets and old-fashioned lamp posts that lit the roads. When we paused, we were in front of the building. I turned toward Lydia, who looked rather distracted.
What’s wrong? I looked at her. Lydia had a strange emotion written on her face I couldn’t read. She hesitated. Talk to me, I nudged her. Her eyes were glazed over from the alcohol and she wobbled when she stood.
It happened before I had a chance to think. Lydia’s body leaned into mine and our faces drew together. Her lips were soft. Light. I’d only been kissed a handful of times in my life. It only took a moment before my entire body froze. I yanked myself away from her and stumbled a few paces back. Lydia’s eyes went wide, bringing her fingers to her lips. “Oh God,” I saw her lips mumble, assuming she’d only said it to herself.
I didn’t know what to say. My heart was pounding so hard in my chest, it was hurting. Lydia remained frozen in place. “Oh, God, Emma. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Lydia looked down for a moment, staring at her feet.
When I caught my breath, I managed to speak to her, “Why did you do that?”
“I...I.. I don’t know. I just thought. I wanted to see...” None of her sentences were finishing. “I’m sorry.”
For whatever reason, her apologizing was making the whole ordeal even worse. “You wanted to see what?”
“I wanted to see if you’d kiss me back,” Lydia said, rocking back and forth on her feet. I could tell she was having trouble standing up. “I wanted to see if maybe you felt the same way.”
“Felt the same way?” Even though it was obvious what she was implying, I repeated her words. “You mean, if I like you?” Lydia’s face went rosy, even
more than it already had been because of the alcohol. She didn’t reply. Words still escaped me. What could I even say to her? We’d been friends for ages. I would have never guessed she felt that way. She’d done a good job of hiding it that was for sure. “You like me?” I said, in disbelief. “How long?”
“A while.” Lydia met eyes with me again. “I’m so sorry, Emma. I didn’t mean to make things awkward.”
It’s okay. I assured her, trying my best to smile. There was an ugly churning in my stomach. It made it hard to think about anything else. The silence between us continued on and on. It was so hard to fathom words to say. I wish you’d told me sooner, I signed.
“Because you have feelings for Professor Hamilton,” Lydia’s face twisted into a strange look.
“Because you’re my friend,” I snipped in response. “Because we’ve been friends for ages and you never said anything. How was I supposed to know?”
Lydia sighed, burying her face in her hands. When they slid down, she looked at me. “I can’t help the way I feel,” Lydia replied. “I just needed to tell you. I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing!” I yelled. As soon as I did, I pulled my voice down to an appropriate level. “You don’t need to apologize for telling me that. I’m happy you were honest.” I was glad, but at the same time it had changed things. Very quickly. I felt uncomfortable around her now. Unsure of what to do.
“You don’t like me though, not that way,” Lydia said what I didn’t want to have to admit.
I’m sorry, Lydia, my hands trailed off after I signed to her. I rubbed my right elbow with my left hand. I didn’t know what else to say. What was there to say? There was a small part of me that wished I could reciprocate her feelings, but there was too much going on.
“Just know what you’re doing is risky,” Lydia warned, her voice growing serious. “Just know it won’t end well. Not just because she’s a professor, but because it’s Juliet Hamilton. All she’ll ever love is music.”
The fact she was accusing me of having feelings for Juliet again was causing me fits. My stomach churned, and I couldn’t quite keep still. I gave her a dirty glare. I don’t have feelings for Juliet, I argued. It took me a moment to realize I’d called her by her first name.
“Whatever you say,” Lydia replied, and I knew she was judging me for my slip of the tongue. “You can live in denial for all I care. Just know, you have someone that really loves you. That won’t disappoint you like she will. And they might not be around forever waiting.” Lydia shuffled her feet again, taking a long pause. “I’m going to bed. Have a good night, Emma.”
“Lydia,” I called after her, but she’d already turned away from me. My emotions were all over the place. I didn’t know how I felt. Whether I wanted to run to her, or I wanted to run away. Whether I did have feelings for Juliet or if Lydia was seeing things. Instead of acting, I watched Lydia as she disappeared down the walkway and into her building.
It was the most alone I’d felt in a very long time. By the time I’d made it into my car in the parking lot, I was sobbing. Devastated by how in the span of a few moments, my world had been turned upside-down.
11
Juliet
THE ROOM WAS QUIET that morning during the first few minutes of composition. I’d lost myself writing notes across the whiteboard. I could hear the squeak of the marker as it moved. It would have pleased me to have such a focused group of students in the room, but my mind was elsewhere today. I didn’t want to think.
As soon as I turned towards the class, my throat tightened. My eyes stayed in front of me, in fear that if I looked in a particular direction, my emotions would be written all over my face. “I’m assuming you all did the assigned readings about Bach’s use of counterpoint in his works. We’re going to spend the class discussing this, and I’d like this to be a discussion, not a lecture.”
As much as it annoyed me that Emma had spent her days correcting my teaching style, she had a point. They were here to learn, not to listen to me ramble on about myself. I wouldn’t dare admit she was right, but I took heed of her advice regardless.
At the thought of Emma, my attention turned in her general direction. It was a mistake. For one, she was sitting alone. When I scanned across the room, I saw Lydia sitting on the far opposite side. Secondly, she looked miserable and distraught. I thought about calling attention to her, but I let her be, wondering instead what was going on between her and her friend.
“First things first,” I said, when Emma had looked up. “I’d like to let all of you know there are several copies of every textbook from my classes available in the library, should you need them for any reason.” My attention drifted towards the whiteboard, taking care not to focus on Emma in case she was annoyed by the gesture.
I broke into the lecture with a discussion, letting the students take over the fifty-minute class. Today, I didn’t bother playing a song, too curious about what was going on with my star student, and what had been bothering her so much that she’d barely focused the entire class. As the room was packing up to leave, I approached her desk, tapping on the top to get her attention. It occurred to me how much it bothered me to see her so distraught.
What’s going on? I signed. Jenny had already been packing up to leave and wasn’t paying attention. You weren’t there the entire lecture.
It’s none of your business, Emma signed in reply, somewhat gruffly. I stood stunned at her attitude towards me, unsure of what to say in response. Emma seemed to realize she was being rude and apologized. I’m sorry. I’m just having a bad day.
I wanted to ask why, but I stopped myself. I was already being inappropriate. My question wasn’t based on my concern about her schoolwork. It was for her. Emma Harvey. The woman that was consuming my every thought.
“I have something I need to talk to you about,” I said aloud once the last student had trickled out of the room. Emma studied me, leaning back in her seat. She didn’t reply, so I continued. “I’ve been thinking about your composition assignment.” The mention of it brought Emma’s face into a scowl. “It occurred to me that perhaps you were right. I was grading your work too harshly. You did as the assignment instructed, and I didn’t explicitly state I wasn’t requiring creativity. And your work was far superior than most of your peers.”
I could tell that Emma was suppressing a smile. Still, she didn’t speak. “So, I’ve decided to raise your grade to a B.” It was clear by the expression on her face that Emma wanted to argue with me, but she held her tongue. “I won’t give you an A, because the assignment was trying to judge you on your technical abilities, and you strayed away from that point.”
For the first time that morning, Emma looked relaxed. She nodded at me. “Thank you,” she replied, reaching down to grab her bag off the floor. “And thank you for the library...”
I couldn’t help but smile then. “It was for the benefit of the entire class.” She knew better than to believe me. Emma shouldered her bag, giving me a final look. “Have a good day, Ms. Harvey. I’ll see you tonight for lessons.”
Emma nodded, skirting around me without another word. I turned to look over my shoulder at her as she left, and for a moment she turned back. There was no telling what was running through her mind, but it only lasted for a second before I watched her disappear beyond the doorway.
THE AFTERNOON STAFF meeting was filled with its usual nothingness that dribbled on for an entire hour and a half. My father spoke for most of it. I was barely present for the meeting, still lost in thought about classes and practicing for the Philharmonic, and random fleeting thoughts of Emma. Never in my life had I imagined anything taking prescience in my mind over my music, but she had, at every turn.
When my attention turned back to the room, my father was eyeing me. “My next topic of conversation is reiterating the conservatory policies about fraternization of students and faculty.” A lump formed in my throat until he continued. “This is an annual discussion, so I wanted to speak about it.” Even with that
mentioned, I could still tell something was off about his tone and the way he was looking at me. “There is a zero tolerance policy for any relationship outside a professional relationship between student and faculty. Students are here to learn. The Bard is a coveted institution, and I want it to remain so. There is no bending of this rule, regardless of your status.” Again, my father's eyes were locked on me. What game was he playing? I had nothing to hide. “This is not only a matter of protecting your own reputation, but the institution itself.”
I nearly laughed when he said it. This lecture was about his concern of the rumor’s effects on him. There was no concern for his employees or the students. The Bard had been in our family for two generations now, and he wasn’t about to lose it because of talk gotten out of hand. The seriousness in his tone was intimidating, and his gaze on me even more so. I wasn’t sure what he had been hearing, but whatever it was, he hadn’t liked it.
He moved on, turning his attention to less trivial details I had no care for. My mind wandered again until the meeting adjourned. As much as I wanted to escape the room, I found myself one of the last to leave. My father caught my arm as I’d got up from the conference room table. “Juliet, I’d like a word.”
The way he said it sent an awful feeling to my stomach. I nodded, turning to look at him. He had a stern gaze, reminiscent of when he’d been speaking in the meeting. “What is it?” My tone was as straight-faced as I could make it.
“Your mother would like for you to come to dinner tomorrow evening,” he said. It didn’t look like what he wanted to say, but I nodded. “Six o’clock. Don’t be late.”
As swiftly as I could, I gathered my things, making haste towards the door. Before I could get away, I heard him clear his throat. When I turned back, I knew I wasn’t going to like what followed. “And Juliet,” he added, his emerald eyes piercing. “I expect these rumors I’ve been hearing to cease.” Instead of answering, I turned away from him and moved out the door, my heart pounding the entire time.
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