Stolen Songs

by Samantha Armstrong

  “We’ve all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That’s who we really are.”

  How does Tilly always know what to say or do? How does she even hold so much wisdom? I run my fingers over the passage, reading it over and over.

  The soft crash of waves against the shore pulls me back to thoughts of Maddy. Maybe I can help ease some of her pain, and if performing is going to help, then that’s one step closer to returning what I took.

  But the only thing that is going to help me is the thing I have been putting off.

  I know what I have to do.

  Maddison

  “Take a deep breath.” Mr. Barner’s hands wrap around my own. They’re big, warm, and comforting. I look up into his light blue eyes and follow his breaths. I don’t know what I’d do without this man.

  “Thank you for believing in me.”

  “How could I not?” He smiles. “You’re the daughter I never had.” My heart freezes over, then melts within seconds. “Now, go make me proud.” He pushes me out and onto the stage. I stumble over myself as my feet are determined to stay beside him. A blinding light is projecting at me, and I squint. I can’t see a thing, which is good, I guess. It eases the nerves slightly. I sit in the seat, take my cello out of its case, clip it in and get comfortable.

  My heart is pounding so hard. I try to take a few calming breaths, but my lungs are tight. That coping mechanism has gone out the window. Shit.

  “Whenever you’re ready, Maddison.” The man’s voice is smooth and powerful. I may not be able to see the audience, but I can feel them. The decision that determines the rest of my life is behind that voice, behind that light, but ultimately, it’s deep within me. I’m scared, I need to get through this, but I don’t know if I can.

  I stretch out my hand, looking at the scars—praying, hoping, begging, that it will suffice. I pull my bow up and close my eyes. I’m about to bring my bow down when I hear a chair shifting behind me. My eyes pop open, and I whip my head around. Kingsley is sitting in front of the piano. My heart stops. He’s in a tux. He lifts the lid. As he rests his hands on the keys, his head tilts back, and he catches my eye. My breath hitches. The corner of his mouth pulls back into a small smile. I squeeze the neck of my cello, and my heart picks up that extra beat, but it’s not a nervous beat, it’s the beat that gives me life. I smile back.

  Despite the resentment I’ve built up in my heart towards him, the rest of the emotions haven’t disappeared. Just because someone hurts you doesn’t mean you can simply stop loving them. He’s changed my life in so many ways, both good and bad. My eyes flick over my shoulder once more. His hair is styled and his shoulders are pulled back. I don’t know why I’m so shocked to see him here. I should have known he’d show up. Forgiveness isn’t easy, but I realize it’s the only thing in life that helps you move on. And maybe if I can, he will be able to. I know how much grief he already holds close to his heart, and no matter what, I don’t think I could live with myself if I allowed him to take on anymore.

  I grip the neck of my cello, bring my bow up, and feel that empty void begin to fill. My nerves evaporate. I push down on my bow and listen to the melody it creates with the lull of the piano.

  For the first time in a long time, I feel alive.

  As soon as the set finishes, I sit there for a moment soaking it all up. My hand is spasming but the buzz that’s ecstatic in my system is overwhelming the pain. I smile, feeling as though I gave it my best shot. I don’t know what I’m going to say to him when we leave this stage, but I know in my heart I have to lay it all out. I have to tell him how much he hurt me, and how much pain I still suffer. But I have to thank him, and tell him I forgive him. The light dims in my eyes and when I turn around to look at Kingsley, I see him leaving.

  “You may leave the stage now, Maddison,” a low voice pulls me back to reality. I quickly put my cello back in its case and stumble from the stage.

  “Maddy, that was amazing.”

  I ignore Mr. Barner’s praise. “Have you seen, Kings—Hamish?”

  He glances over his shoulder for a second. “He left.”

  That void I thought I filled, just expanded again.

  Kingsley

  I rest my head against the glass door as so many before me probably have. I can’t help but think the emotions I’m feeling would be completely foreign to this place. The way she played was purely hypnotic. The way she made me feel was incredible, and I only have her to thank for that. I took so much away from her. I can understand her reasons for not wanting to have anything to do with me.

  She shouldn’t. Not after what I did.

  When she turned around and smiled at me tonight, I knew somewhere in her heart she could forgive me. But I know she will never reach that part until I’ve done what was right, and I will do anything, anything to make it right again. She is the best thing that ever happened to me. Even when all this is done, if she still doesn’t want anything to do with me, I will be okay as long as she forgives me. Because I can’t live when I’m burdened with guilt. I’ve learned that the hard way.

  I inhale a deep breath and push open the door to the police station.

  Maddison

  When I finally make it home, the house is quiet. I slowly make my way up the stairs, my legs too heavy, too lazy, to move.

  Tilly is fast asleep. I kick off my shoes, and search for clothes to change into. I turn around and make my way back across the room to shower when I stop. My gaze drops to the floor where Tilly’s books are sprawled across a pile of clothes. I kneel down and pick up the book Kingsley gave her. The tips of my fingers go white as my hold tightens, and that throb in my hand starts again. I wince and release my grasp, just as a tear slips down my cheek.

  I have to let go, like he seems to have.

  Kingsley

  I don’t really know how I should feel right now, but content probably isn’t the right emotion. I just know he’s about to walk through that door any second and the last thing I want to do is look him in the eye. I’m not in the mood for his lecture, I’ve already had enough from the cops.

  The door opens, and I keep my gaze in the palm of my hands. I hear footsteps leaving, and approaching, then a chair scrape the floor, and out the corner of my eye, I see him sit opposite me.

  He doesn’t speak and the silence is uncomfortable. I glance at him and the look on his face startles me. There’s no anger in his eyes, no rage, no fury. All I see in his eyes are something I see in mine every day.

  Guilt.

  My dad leans forward in his seat and presses his hand to his head, closing his eyes. It’s taken him four weeks to come in. To be honest, I wasn’t even expecting him, so when they told me my father was coming in, I knew there had to be a reason, but I have absolutely no idea what it could be.

  “I had this whole mess cleaned up, so why’d you go and give yourself up?” His voice is shaky. Every time I think about what the police said to me when I handed myself in, my stomach turns to knots.

  His hands smack the bench and he lets out a breath before he leans back in his seat. I’ve never seen him like this. I gape at him.

  “I’ve tried everything but there’s nothing I can do. No matter how much money I offer or who I know. There’s nothing I can do. You’re in here for six months.”

  My tongue has completely forced itself down my throat to the point where I feel sick. He’s been trying to get me out? My palms sweat and I shift uncomfortably on my seat. I swallow back the lump of nausea. At the same time, I feel a sense of ease. I deserve this. I shouldn’t have been selling drugs in the first place.

  He shakes his head, runs a hand through his hair then lets it fall to his side. “I mean, if you just kept your mouth shut you wouldn’t be in here.” He pauses, grits his teeth, and my muscles begin to loosen. There’s the anger I’m familiar with. There’s the side of my father I know, the only side of him I’m used to. “Fuck, Hamish. It wasn’t even your drugs that killed the girl!” />
  So many seconds slip by between us where we just stare at each other. I still have no words to say, and I can see by the way he rubs his chin, opens and closes his mouth that he has a lot, but the words don’t come.

  He shakes his head again, then lets out a pent-up sigh. He pulls an envelope from his pocket and leans forward on his thighs, flicking the envelope with his index finger.

  He looks up and meets my gaze.

  “If there’s anything to get you through this, then I guess this is it.” He throws me the envelope.

  I’m still staring at him. Staring at the man who has hated me my whole life, and if I didn’t know any better I would say this was actually affecting him. His eyes dart to the envelope I hold in my hand, and he nods his head for me to look down. I blink several times before reality hits me full force and a knock on the door startles me.

  “Five minutes!” the guard shouts.

  I look from the door to my dad, who’s watching me, then to the envelope I hold in my hand. It’s been torn open. I flip it over.

  The logo of Juilliard is centered in the middle. I frown, pull the paper out and read it.

  I look up and meet my dad’s gaze.

  “I got into Juilliard?”

  Maddison

  “Maddy! Maddy!” Tilly squeals.

  I fling the covers back and jump from my bed. My pulse races as I run from my room. She’s sprinting and tripping up the stairs, creating a racket.

  “Till, what’s wrong?”

  She briefly lifts her head, before focusing back on the steps. Her eyes are bright, and her smile is wide. When I see what she’s holding, my stomach drops. As soon as she reaches me, she waves the envelope in front of my face, but I can’t move. I’m lost in my thoughts, in the fear, doubt, and apprehension. Everything around me seems to stop, motionless.

  Tilly tugs on my arm, pulling a piece of me back to reality. “Maddy!”

  I’ve never heard her so excited, and in this moment I think it’s the only thing that could have snapped me out of my reverie. I glance down at her and she shoves the paper into me, giggling. I have no choice but to take it from her. I didn’t realize something so small, something so thin, could feel so heavy.

  Tilly looks up at me with the biggest grin, but I can’t seem to form any response. She wraps her hands around my own, and looks me deep in my eye. “This is it,” she murmurs. All traces of the child within her have vanished. I swallow back the lump in my throat, lean against the wall and slide down to the floor.

  I pull my legs up, and rest my hands on my knees, staring at the paper shaking in my hands. Tilly sits beside me, and her presence is just what I need to calm me. She leans her head on my shoulder and we both just sit there.

  Even though I’m a foster kid, I’ve always felt like I’ve had some control over my life. Been able to make my own decisions. I have always been dependent on myself, and even though I gave so much of myself to Kingsley, I’ve still never felt as vulnerable as I do in this moment. For the first time, my life, my future is in the hands of this paper I hold. I have no control over what it says, and there’s nothing more I can do about it.

  Phoebe comes bursting out of her room, screaming. Jack stumbles out after her, making dinosaur noises. I drop my legs and watch her run towards me. The smile spread across her face helps ease the nerves. She jumps into my arms, speaking baby language and laughing. Jack’s on his knees, tickling her as she wriggles around in my arms. As I watch them, I realize no matter what this paper says, I will be okay. I may not be able to control what it says, but I can control what I do with the result. Because no matter what, I will always have them, and that’s all I need.

  Tilly touches my hand on the floor, and whispers, “You can do it.”

  I look down to her and there’s no doubt in her eyes. Her cheeks are rosy red as she smiles. Phoebe finally settles as Jack runs off down the hallway. She turns and sits in my lap. I rest my chin on her head and hold up the envelope addressed to me. The first and only letter I’ve ever received.

  The tremble in my hand increases, and I grit down on my teeth to still myself. I flip it over and run my thumb over the embossed Juilliard symbol. With each bump in the seal, my pulse jumps. Phoebe raises her hand and points at the letter, but I can’t hear what she says. I can’t hear anything apart from the rhythmic thud in my ears. I suck in a deep breath and tear it open. Before I can back out, I pull the paper from the envelope and slowly unfold it. I keep my eyes closed for a moment, and then I open them and skim the page until my gaze stops.

  Dead.

  Congratulations, Maddison.

  Epilogue

  Maddison

  Seven months later

  “Get your butt out of bed, girl!”

  I groan. “Leave me alone, James.”

  “Jamie, Maddison. It’s Jamie, how many times do I have to tell you?”

  I pull the pillow over my head, and mumble, “Whatever.”

  “Come on, get up! Orientation day is the best day of the year.”

  I throw the pillow to the floor to see him standing in front of my window, trying to fix his hair in the reflection. “We’ve only been here six months. You can’t know what the best day of the year is because it hasn’t been a whole year.”

  He groans, and flicks his head over his shoulder. “Stop being difficult, Maddison. Come on, we need to scope out all the fresh meat.”

  I drop back into my bed and suppress a laugh.

  My bed sags, and my eyes pop open. Jamie’s blond hair is sweeping his forehead. God, could he look any gayer if he tried? I push myself up onto my elbows, and run my fingers through his bangs so it doesn’t look so baby Bieberish. He brings his hands up, and begs. “Please, Maddy. I need a wingwoman.”

  I can’t stop the laugh as it explodes out of me. “Are you serious?”

  “Does it look like I’m serious?” His expression is flat. God, I wish I had that kind of poker face.

  “Can’t I just stay in bed?”

  “Uh-uh.” He jumps to his feet and grabs my covers, yanking them from me. “Dayum, girl, do you always wear these skimpy little outfits? I bet Miles likes them.” He winks, and I groan just as the bathroom door swings open. “El!” he shouts, and she gasps.

  “Shit, I didn’t recognize you for a second.” She loosens her grip around the towel covering her up and walks to her dresser.

  “Tell Maddy to get up. She has to come with us today.”

  “Maddy, get up.” She holds up a black and beige dress. “Which one?” she asks Jamie.

  “Beige.”

  She throws the black dress back in her dresser and turns around, letting her towel drop. “Ellie,” I shout, and jerk around. “Get dressed in the bathroom!”

  “Ugh,” she mumbles.

  Jamie laughs. “Did Ellie’s white ass wake you up? ’Cause if it didn’t, I can show you mine. I know that’ll get you out of bed.”

  I roll onto my back. “Do you ever give up?” I mutter.

  “No, I don’t. You should know that by now.” He grabs my hands and pulls me to my feet. “That’s the girl.” He smiles and smacks my ass. “Now go get changed, we’re on a tight schedule.”

  Ellie laughs and I grumble as I make my way into the bathroom.

  I throw on a pair of ripped black jeans, a plain white t-shirt and turn to face the mirror. I let out my hair from the elastic band and watch as it rolls down past my shoulders. I’ve never had long hair before, and now I know why. It’s annoying. I make a mental note to pick up scissors from the store. I use Ellie’s brush to comb out the knots, then line my eyes, brush my teeth and feel like I’ve made the effort of a lifetime just to walk around the entire day. I stare at myself in the mirror and my mind drifts off. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about Cynthia, and right now, I can feel her. Laughing. At me. I scowl into the mirror then my lips involuntarily hook up into a smile.

  “Thanks for the support, Cynth,” I whisper, then add, “I miss you.” I tie my hair back and exit th
e bathroom.

  “You’re wearing that? After I just saw those sexy legs of yours, you’re covering them up with those goddamn jeans.” Jamie looks exasperated.

  I grab my leather jacket off the hanger. “Ah, yes I am, and anyway, it’s nearly winter.”

  He scoffs. “Nearly winter.”

  I roll my eyes. “Yeah, winter. Cold.”

  He glares at me from Ellie’s bed. “Hmm. El, do you take that as a challenge?”

  She laughs. “I do. We’ll get you out of those jeans one day soon, Maddy.” She grins as she swings her purse over her shoulder. “But for today, emo girl will have to do.”

  I roll my eyes and pull on my chucks. “I’m not emo.”

  “Ah, yeah, you are,” she says.

  Jamie’s lips are pressed together. He nods, agreeing with her.

  I follow them out the door, and down the hallway. “So, girls,” Jamie steps in between us, “I take first dibs on the hotties.”

  “Uh-uh, first person to lay eyes on them gets them,” Ellie says.

  Jamie groans. “Fine.”

  “You guys are stupid.”

  “Don’t worry, we won’t tell Miles if you want to have a bit of fun.” He elbows me in the arm.

  “Enough with the Miles shit already,” I snap.

  “Ooh, feisty are we? You wake up on the wrong side of the bed?”

  “Yeah, and you were the one to wake me up, so you’re the one that’s going to pay.”

  He narrows his eyes on mine and smirks. “You know, I think that’s what I love most about you.”

  “What?”

  “That damn, hot sass.”

  “You wouldn’t say that if you lived with her,” Ellie says, flashing me a smile.

  I roll my eyes and they both laugh.