He grabbed my arm. “Of course you did, you’re not together, are you?”
Okay, now he was pissing me off. The scene was too familiar, and I really didn’t want to think about the last time he cornered me in the hallway.
I shook his hand off my arm. “Did he actually say I dumped him?”
He thought for a second, running his hand through his hair, a move that he shared with his twin. It was too familiar, so I looked over at a locker with the words “school sucks” written on it. “No, but I assumed you did. He’s miserable. All he does is punch the heavy bag. He’s down there for hours, and he won’t talk to us at dinner. I saw him try to speak to you this morning, and you wouldn’t let him.”
I laughed dryly, finally glancing at him. Logan’s hair was shorter than his brother’s, and he lacked the cluster of freckles on his cheeks. If it wasn’t for those subtle differences I wouldn’t have been able to look him in the eye. “Why would I want to be near him after he dumped me? Yeah, he tried to get me to talk to him, but that’s just to ease his conscience for breaking my heart. Why should I help him?” The tears that I thought had dried up escaped. I wiped them, hoping he wouldn’t notice, but judging by the panicked look on his face, he did.
He glanced around as if looking for help. When he found no one around, he awkwardly put his arms around my shoulders to comfort me. I would have been surprised if I wasn’t so upset.
“Get your hands off of her, Logan. I told you that I’d kick your ass if you ever touched her again.”
I pulled away from Logan and stared coldly at Lucas. He was rushing toward us, his boots clomping on the floor. His gaze was full of fury, and locked on his brother.
“Go to hell, Lucas. He was comforting me, after he defended you! He thought I dumped you. He got that wrong, didn’t he?” I scowled at him and walked away. I had so much pain inside me, it was unbearable, and all it would take to make it go away was for him to turn around, take me in his arms, and tell me that he loved me.
But no, instead I heard Logan say behind me, “What the hell, dude?”
I turned the corner, ran to the bathroom, and sobbed inside the stall.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The Recital
Since I worked after school, my parents were taking turns driving me. Mom dropped me off, and my dad was picking me up.
I was on concession when Zack came over. He was ripping tickets, but with most of the movies in session, the theater was quiet.
“Hey, where were you last week?”
“I was sick,” I lied.
“Why didn’t Lucas drop you off like he usually does?”
Mind your own business. “He dumped me.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “His loss, right?” he mumbled, obviously uncomfortable. “You can do better anyway.”
“Zack, I appreciate you trying to cheer me up, but I’d rather not talk about it.” I stepped away from the counter to clean the popcorn machine. With the movies in session, my only customers would be a few stragglers out of popcorn, wanting more. When it was slow, we had to find things to do. I was okay with that though; staying busy kept my mind off of hazel eyes with specks of gold, freckles dotted on the tops of cheeks, shaggy brown hair. Ugh, okay, so it didn’t work all the time, but it helped.
Zach watched me work for a few minutes. When it was obvious that I wasn’t up for conversation, he walked away, grabbing a broom on his way.
My dad came in awhile later, walking towards me. I had about ten minutes left of my shift. “Hey, how was work?” He placed his hands on the counter, tapping his fingers on the top. He was wearing his green winter coat, undone, showing a ratty T-shirt.
“It was work,” I said with a shrug. “Dad, you’re early.”
He was chewing his fruit-flavored gum. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t go outside by yourself.”
“I’ve learned my lesson, believe me.”
“I’m still upset with you for not telling me what was going on. I’m your father, Sarah, I can’t protect you if I don’t know something’s wrong.” Where had my easy-going-video-game-playing-father gone? Ever since I started dating Lucas, the overprotective-worried-hovering-man before me had taken over, and I really missed the old dad.
Ten minutes later, I waved to Marcy, who had been working with me. She was scheduled to close. I went to the breakroom to sign out. The room was empty and smelled of tomato soup.
“Hey, Sarah, I’m sorry about earlier, about bringing up Lucas. I didn’t know,” Zack said, walking into the room and pulling his coat off a hook.
“It’s okay, Zack, I’ll see you later.” I started out the door, yanking my jacket on, when I heard his voice behind me.
“Why don’t you let me take you out, to make it up to you? You never know, it might cheer you up.”
Oh no, not again. “I’m sorry, but I’m not up to it yet.” I rushed out of the room to meet my father at the front doors before he could stop me.
Tuesday night was the recital. I had been dreading it all week, since I had to play my original piece, a song I wrote about Lucas. It was supposed to be about our emotions. When I wrote it, I was happy; now, not so much. Tonight I would be playing a joyful tune about me and my then boyfriend, and I would be absolutely miserable while doing it.
I stared at myself in my bedroom mirror. I was wearing a halter-style black dress that fell loosely to my knees. My hair was curled with some pulled back away from my face. My eyes were shadowed with a smoky look, and my lips were covered in a soft pink gloss. I had even broken out some blush to add some color to my face. On my feet were high-heeled black strappy sandals. The person in the mirror looked beautiful. But I felt like a vacant shell.
“Sarah, hurry up, we’re going to be late,” my mother yelled from the hallway.
I knew she was right, but for some reason, I couldn’t look away from the mirror; there was something about my eyes that looked different to me.
“Sarah! Let’s go.” Now it was my dad yelling.
As I walked out, I glanced once more at my reflection, and realized what it was that bothered me. My eyes looked empty.
The auditorium was packed. I sat on the stage behind the curtain waiting my turn. We were to perform our pieces individually, and then as a closing all of us would play Miss Fitzgerald’s song.
“Hey, are you nervous?” I heard Emma ask from behind me.
I turned in the direction of her voice and saw her and Derrick coming up the steps.
“No, I just want to get this over with so I can go home.” All I wanted to do was crawl in bed and disappear.
They exchanged a worried glance, but that wasn’t new, I was getting used to those looks. She forced a smile. “Well, you look gorgeous. I have to borrow that dress someday.”
“Sure.” I really wasn’t in the mood to make conversation.
“Well, I guess we’ll go get our seats. Oh, by the way, I’m surprised that you invited Lucas, I didn’t think you wanted him around.”
I panicked. A feeling of excitement mixed with dread came over me. “What, Lucas is here?”
“Um…yeah, didn’t you invite him?” She was shooting looks of confusion between me and Derrick.
“Yes, but we were still together. I figured since he broke my heart, he’d know that I didn’t want him here. Crap.” There was no way I could go out there now. I couldn’t face him. How was I supposed to play a song about him while he was here? Emma patted me on the shoulder, and they both stepped off the stage to find a seat.
I suddenly felt very warm and clammy. The voices around me became louder, almost deafening, and I couldn’t catch my breath. I needed to leave, I couldn’t do this.
I ran for the side door, pushing past Lila and her harp, and Marjorie the flute player. I reached the emergency exit, about to push on the latch to make my escape.
“Sarah!” I heard a voice yell from behind me. Damn, I was so close. “Where are you going?” Miss Fitzgerald asked, walking quickly towards me, her heels cli
cking like the sound of a drum beat. She was dressed up, wearing a shimmering silver dress and oversized hoop earrings.
I turned to face her. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. I have to leave right now.”
Her forehead creased. “Sarah, you are very talented, of course you can do this, it’s just nerves.” She took hold of my elbow and started to lead me back.
I stood my ground. “I’m sorry but I can’t.” My voice was firm. I wasn’t about to back down.
“What’s going on? Sarah, you’ve been distant for over a week.” Her eyes were filled with concern; no wonder she was my favorite teacher.
“Lucas broke up with me. And I’ve been a wreck ever since. The song I wrote was about him, how he made me feel happy and excited, but now I have to go out there and play it when I’m miserable. And I thought I could do it, but Emma just told me that he’s out there. I can’t…” I said softly, with my hand still on the door handle ready to push it open.
Miss Fitzgerald shook her head, her auburn curls bouncing against her shiny dress. “Men. They flatter you to get what they want, and then they dump you.” She had a far-off look in her eyes, and then she scowled. I had a feeling she wasn’t talking about Lucas.
“No, he’s not like that. He did it for a good reason, in his mind anyway.”
She took both of my hands in hers, staring into my eyes, her face determined, her large emerald ring digging into my fingers. “Sarah, listen, do you know how many people perform when they’re miserable, or sad, or sick?” She didn’t let me answer before she went on. “The way I see it is, you can take all the good memories, blocking out the bad, and channel them into your music. Or you can shake off what you’re feeling right now, go out there with your head held high, give the best performance you possibly can, and show him what he’s lost.” Her gaze was steady as she added, “And if any of that doesn’t work, fake it.”
It wasn’t the best pep talk I’d ever heard, but it did the trick. I nodded. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
She smiled before giving me a big hug. She smelled like an odd mix of rain and sunshine. “Good, it’s almost your turn. Go,” she said, with a gentle push.
Mark was just finishing his piece on the clarinet. His emotion must be sadness; the low, haunting notes of the song depressed me even more than I had been.
I stood at the edge of the stage waiting for him to finish; I was next. Out of the three suggestions Miss Fitzgerald gave me, the only one I could do was fake it. I’d plant a smile on my face, not look into the crowd, play quickly, and get off the stage. That was the plan anyway.
“Thank you, Mark, that was lovely. Now our next performer on piano is Sarah Samson.” Miss Fitzgerald spoke clearly to the crowd. She walked off the stage in the opposite direction, her long skirt fluttering behind her.
I blocked out the applause, visualizing that I was alone and the seats were empty. I stepped out slowly, keeping my focus on the piano ahead of me.
Sitting down on the bench, I put my hands on the keys.
A familiar pull coming from the center of the room made me glance up quickly without thinking, and I looked right into Lucas’ hazel eyes. He was sitting in the middle row, focused only on me. Our eyes locked, and I began my song. Everything fell away—the last week, the pain I felt, the constant loneliness that followed me everywhere I went, whether I was in a crowd or alone in my room. All I thought about was the music. I played, lost in my own world.
When I finished, the crowd’s applause pulled me out, snapping me back to reality. Before I stood up, I touched the piano keys, they were wet. I felt my hands, they were damp as well. I realized I didn’t block everything out. As I played, tears rolled down my cheeks, and I didn’t even feel them.
The last song of the night was the group performance. The curtain was closed as everyone gathered onto the stage, sitting down with our instruments. After the curtain rose, Miss Fitzgerald announced us, and we began.
The song opened with a piano solo, and then one by one the other instruments joined in. I had to admit we sounded great. Miss Fitzgerald was beaming when the song ended. Pride shone on her face as she stared at us.
The audience roared with applause, and for a few minutes, I was actually happy, I didn’t need to pretend. We stood and took our bows; I accidentally looked out at the audience and saw Lucas. His face was full of pride as he smiled at me, and the pain came back like a blow to the heart.
While everyone was celebrating, I ducked out the side door to wait for my parents in the car.
“Sarah, what are you doing out here, everyone was looking for you,” my mother said, climbing into the front passenger side about twenty minutes later. My brother got in beside me, and my dad climbed in behind the wheel, turned the key, and pulled out onto the road, trying to beat the mob of cars.
“I didn’t feel like celebrating.” I stared out the window without seeing the view before me.
“Sarah, you have to pull out of this, make an effort,” she said, leaning over and rubbing my knee.
I yanked my leg away from her hand. “Mom, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Fine, I’ll leave it alone for now.” She sighed heavily, and then beamed at me. “Oh honey, you were great up there, we were so proud.”
“Thank you.” I managed a slight smile.
When we arrived home, I went right up to my room to change into my standard pj’s, pink tank, and black yoga pants. I was too restless to sleep, so I sat down in front of the computer and checked my email. It was a mistake; there was one from Lucas. I read all the junk mail and jokes sent from Emma, then reluctantly opened his. It read: Sarah, I tried to catch you after the recital, but you were gone. I would call, except I know you wouldn’t answer. So hopefully, you’ll read this message. I just wanted to say how beautifully brilliant you were tonight, I was proud to know you. Lucas.
Okay, maybe I will go to bed, I thought as I turned off my computer and fell under the covers, tugging them up over my head. I knew he was just trying to be nice, but his words were so sweet they ripped through me like the knife he was trying to protect me from.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The Break-In
The rest of the week involved more wallowing. My new thing was listening to a song that helped me stay in the mood. It was on repeat, so I could listen to it over and over. Pathetic, I know.
Sometimes when I listened to the song, I would forget about the empty, painful ache in my chest. I avoided Lucas as much as I could. I saw him a few times, but he no longer tried to talk to me. History was now bearable since we had finished our project and handed it in.
At work on Wednesday, Zack bugged me to let him take me out. I finally agreed so I could get rid of him. He told me that he’d rather go out Friday if that was okay. That was fine with me as long as it was just a quick bite to eat, making it clear to him that it wasn’t a date. He said he understood that I wasn’t ready yet; it would just be a friendly dinner. I didn’t bother to tell him that I would never be ready; he’d find out sooner or later.
The evening promised to be a disaster when he pulled into the back lot at the mall. It was the entrance to Sabour’s, Lucas’ family’s restaurant. Fridays were usually his night off, but I still had a bad feeling as we were led to a table by a hostess I didn’t recognize. I took my menu from her and held it in front of my face, knowing it wouldn’t help hide my identity.
“Welcome to Sabour’s,” Lucas said, approaching our table. He froze when he saw me. Three emotions crossed his face—happiness at seeing me, shock at seeing me with Zack, then fury when he saw Zack touching my leg, which I was trying to shake off. “Get your hand off of her,” Lucas said through gritted teeth.
Zack lifted his hand slowly. “I don’t think that’s up to you anymore.” There was cold laughter in his eyes.
Lucas stood glaring at him, literally shaking with anger. It looked like he was struggling with himself not to lunge at Zack. “Sarah, can I see you for a moment?” His voice was filled with ve
nom.
“You don’t have to go, Sarah, he is not your boyfriend any longer, remember?” Zack seemed to be enjoying himself.
Lucas didn’t give me a chance to answer. He grabbed my arm, yanking me out of the booth.
Zack stood up to face him. They were standing inches apart, staring daggers at one another. “Get your hand off of her.” His voice was low, but I was sure I heard it shake slightly.
People were starting to notice. I saw an older woman in a loud floral dress turn her head around so she could get a better view.
“Its okay, Zack, I’ll be right back,” I said, pulling Lucas away. I let go of him when we were out of Zack’s sight.
Lucas took my arm and pulled me into the back room.
“What are you doing? I told you that I don’t trust him!” His voice was filled with frustration and anger. We were in the pantry, where no one could hear. “Are you trying to get yourself hurt?”
“What are you talking about?” I snapped.
“I told you that I had a bad feeling about him. I’m staying away from you to keep you safe. The least you could do is watch who you spend your time with.”
“You listen to me. I’m not your problem anymore, you ended it, remember?” I stabbed him in the chest; my finger tingled through his white dress shirt.
He gave me a low chuckle. “How could I forget, you keep reminding me.”
“If that’s all you wanted, I’ll go out and tell him that I want to leave. I had no idea he would bring me here, and I didn’t think you’d be working.” I turned to go.
He tugged my arm, swinging me around to face him. “That’s not all. I want to know why you’re with him.” He narrowed his eyes and sneered. “Are you dating? That’s just great, Sarah. You accuse me of not caring about you because I ended it. And now after only a couple of weeks, you’re dating him?” He was pacing the pantry and waving his arms.
I punched him in the chest, unable to control my anger. “Not that it’s any of your business, but he’s been bugging me all week to take me out to cheer me up, so I told him yes just to shut him up.”
Fated Dreams (Book One In The Affinity series) Page 22