High Note (Pitch Perfect Book 2)

by H. L. Logan

  “The school sometimes gives stipends for that reason,” said Emily. “You could ask financial aid.”

  “Or you could move in with me,” I said casually. “I mean, just for the summer. It’d be fun.”

  “Really?” Margie turned to me. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t be imposing? I mean, I’m sure I could pay some rent…”

  “Margie,” I said, “my parents are paying for my apartment. So you really can just stay there if you want to.”

  “I’ll think about,” Margie said, “see if Cass can find a subletter. Or maybe Marnie will stay with her.” She stared off into the corner, clearly thinking through the logistics.

  “Just let me know,” I said. “No pressure.”

  “Sure.” Margie nodded. “Thanks for the offer.”

  “The zoo would be a sweet place to work,” I said. “I can’t believe I haven’t gone this year.”

  “Me neither,” said Emily. “And I’m also a bio major. You’d think we’d have a field trip or something.”

  “Hey, you go on some awesome field trips,” said Kaitlyn. “Like the one to that wildlife refuge.”

  “I guess,” said Emily.

  “Well, I’ll look into it,” said Margie. “I guess because I’m new in town I didn’t know about all the opportunities.”

  “It shouldn’t be too hard to find something. A lot of Beasley students are from out of state so they go elsewhere for their internships,” said Emily. “I don’t think a lot of them actually stick around for the summer.”

  There were a pause in the conversation. I checked my phone; it was getting a bit late, and I did still have a couple finals to knock out. By the end of the week, I’d be done. And then, after graduation…

  I loved thinking of what my life as an adult would look like. I loved knowing that I would be completely free from my parents’ influence so soon. Even though, as a college student, they weren’t breathing down my necks all the time, they did still control me financially. I ran up against a lot of resistance when I wanted to make big purchases or take trips. Or even rent an apartment—my parents had come down when I was house-hunting and taken over the process. I yearned to actually be able to make my own decisions.

  And it would be amazing if Margie moved in. Even though I was introverted, and loved having my apartment to myself, I felt like I’d be even happier with her. She was one of the few people who didn’t make me feel tired after I hung out with her.

  Of course, we’d also be able to do plenty more sexy stuff if we lived together too. I really hoped that she would say yes.

  “Want to go for another half hour or so?” asked Kaitlyn, cutting into my thoughts.

  “Sure.” I nodded, picked up my violin, and sat back in my seat. The chinrest fit perfectly against my jaw, and the violin’s weight was comforting. As I started playing again, I found myself falling under the spell of the music, the rare harmony that Kaitlyn and I were able to create together. Music was magic, there was no doubt about it. It spoke to me in a way words never could.

  And playing with Kaitlyn made me feel more fluid, more free, than playing in the orchestra. The orchestra was largely about precision and making sure you were doing the same thing as everyone else. There wasn’t too much room for individual style, not as much as this. As a result, my playing was pretty methodical and stilted. I felt like improvisation and jamming with Kaitlyn had freed some other intangible part of me.

  I could feel it; that was what it came down to. I couldn’t say what it was, but it was a part that had needed healing, and had found it here.

  I found myself humming along with the tune as Kaitlyn sang, and it was so catchy that Margie and Emily joined in as well, tapping their feet and getting into the music.

  I felt connected in a way I’d never felt before in that moment. It was beautiful, like my whole self was ensconced in the comfort of our united expression.

  I took a deep breath and gave it my all.

  14

  MARGIE

  I was honestly shocked that Brianne had offered to let me live with her. Even though we’d been dating for a bit, I still felt like parts of her were inscrutable. And to think that she wanted me around in her living space… she was really opening up.

  It must have meant she really liked me. And maybe even better, trusted me. We’d come a long way from me spilling her coffee.

  Of course, I wanted to take her up on her offer. I knew it might not be completely smooth sailing—problems came up when you lived with someone—but so far, we’d both handled problems in a mature way. I felt like we could handle this too.

  I discussed the situation with Cass, and it worked out like a stroke of luck—Marnie lived in the dorms (which explained why she was at the house so often) and was open to moving in with Cass over the summer. I helped her move her things into my room, since I didn’t have much.

  And after graduation, I would move in completely. It was strange to be one of the only non-seniors sticking around Rosebridge. But part of the reason I was sticking around was because I’d agreed to go to this wedding with Brianne.

  I dug up some of my best clothing, which I was glad my mother insisted I pack for formal events, and tried to look halfway decent. I knew Brianne herself would look like a princess, and I wanted to keep up. I had a bit of a hunch about how her parents would be, and I wanted to earn their respect.

  “Ready?” she asked, as she smoothed out her dress.

  “Yep.” I grabbed my purse. I wasn’t sure I was really ready—could you ever be, when you were going to meet your girlfriend’s parents? But I was as prepared as I’d ever be.

  We were taking my car. The wedding site was just forty-five minutes away on an old farm. The couple had apparently decided to do one of those trendy barn weddings, with rustic decor and shabby chic. Despite this, Brianne told me I should dress up as best I could.

  The only nice dress I had was an old one from one of my high school homecomings. I’d bought it from a thrift store and it had a weird crimson paisley print from the ‘90s, but it was in good condition and didn’t look bad. Still, I worried. I knew Brianne’s family was really rich and mine, well, wasn’t. I wasn’t sure I’d know how to talk to these people, or answer certain questions they might ask.

  But I had to stop worrying. My palms were slightly damp on the steering wheel, and I even worried about the condition of my car. It was a respectable thirteen year old Toyota Corolla. It looked clean and I took good care of it. But it certainly wasn’t going to be the nicest car in the parking lot.

  We arrived at the barn, and signs directed us to a grassy lot upon which we could park. When I stepped out of the car, the warm afternoon sun greeted me.

  I had no idea what to expect. I’d been to weddings before, but they were much more casual affairs in my family.

  Brianne led the way, and I took her hand. She’d assured me that her family was totally cool with us being together, which was hard to believe. I personally did not think my mother would be cool with it at all—but that was a bridge I’d have to cross later.

  We entered the barn and found that many people were simply standing around and chatting and drinking. The barn itself was decorated beautifully with paper decorations, bunting, fairy lights, and tons of flowers—the effect was much better than I thought it would be.

  I didn’t know a single soul here, so I followed Brianne cautiously, hoping I could get a drink at some point.

  “There’s my parents,” said Brianne, gesturing with her hand. “Over there. We should say hi to them first.”

  They looked perfectly friendly, but I knew they were going to be evaluating me. As we approached them, they turned their focus to us.

  “Hey, Mom, Dad,” said Brianne. “This is Margie.”

  “Nice to meet you, ma’am,” I said, shaking her mother’s hand.

  “Oh please, call me Patricia. And my husband is Steven,” she said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too. I’m glad you could come to the wedding.”

  “M
e too,” I said. “It’s a beautiful venue.”

  I was glad I was at least able to make small talk. I often found it easier to talk to “grown-ups” rather than people my own age. When parents asked questions, I knew what answers they wanted to hear.

  “Margie transferred to Beasley from Amherst,” said Brianne. “She’s studying biology.”

  “Is that so,” said Patricia, nodding. “How lovely. And what would you like to do with that?”

  “I’d like to work with animals or study wildlife,” I said. “Maybe do field research.”

  Patricia nodded, but she did look a little confused. I supposed that field research wasn’t a posh enough career path for her. But being a scientist was respectable in my book—and of course, I had great respect for anyone who worked with animals.

  “Honey,” said Patricia, turning to Brianne, “that reminds me of that fundraiser we went to a while back… what was it for? The Hensleys’ daughter was running an animal rescue.”

  “That’s right,” said Brianne. “Maybe you can hook Margie up. She needs a summer job.”

  “That would be great,” I said. I needed something at this point, and all the prestigious and cool internships had filled up. I would be happy to work at a coffee shop, but I would prefer something that was at least remotely related to my career path.

  So far, the conversation with Brianne’s parents seemed to be going well. She’d prepared me for the worst—she’d said her parents could be snooty—but this was manageable.

  “We’ll send you Leah’s information,” said Patricia to Brianne. “I’m sure she could use more help. She hires Beasley students all the time.”

  That made me feel a lot better about my prospects for the summer.

  “Sounds good,” said Brianne. “Any other family members here for me to introduce Margie to?”

  Patricia looked around the crowd in the barn. “Oh, looks like your sister’s here, Brianne.”

  I gave her a glance. She knew what it meant. She’d forgotten to even tell me she had a sister.

  “Let’s go say hi, then,” said Brianne. “See you guys.”

  After we’d walked away from them a bit, I spoke up. “You forgot to tell me about your sister.”

  “I know. Where has my brain been this past semester?” she said. “We don’t talk that much because she’s six years older than me and we don’t have that much in common. But she’s cool. Her name’s Annie.”

  We approached a tall woman with Brianne’s chocolate brown curls and gray eyes. In fact, if it weren’t for the height and age discrepancy, they could have been twins.

  “Hey, sis!” Annie waved and pulled Brianne into a firm hug. “And who’s this?” she asked, pulling away.

  “My girlfriend, Margie,” said Brianne, smiling widely.

  It was nice to feel like I was being shown off—like someone was proud of me, and proud to be seen with me.

  “It’s great to meet you, Margie,” said Annie, shaking my hand. “And you’re a Beasley student as well?”

  “That’s right,” I said.

  “How did you two meet?” asked Annie.

  Brianne paused, and I remembered when I’d cut her off, saying that we’d met each other randomly instead of me spilling a latte on her.

  “I spilled coffee on her by accident, when I bumped into her,” I said. “And then I asked her to lunch and it went from there.”

  I didn’t feel embarrassed about this story anymore. It was now the funny, cute tale of how we met. A real life meet-cute.

  “That’s a good story,” said Annie, nodding.

  The sisters launched into a brief discussion about Marcy—the lady whose wedding this was—and other family members. I listened with some interest, partially because it was simply an opportunity to learn more about Brianne.

  After we finished speaking to Annie, we wandered to the outskirts of the barn and people watched for a while. I was feeling more comfortable than I’d expected, but I was still eager to get a drink later on.

  Now, it was time to sit for the ceremony, though, and we found Brianne’s parents and sat with them.

  The ceremony itself was lovely. There was a string quartet, and the acoustics in the barn were actually pretty good. Seeing the violinist just reminded me of watching Brianne play the other day and how magical it had been. She was really amazing—the way she closed her eyes and got completely sucked into the music was mesmerizing. Her passion was obvious.

  The bride walked up the aisle, in a simple white dress, two flower girls in front throwing rose petals. I watched as the priest spoke the sacred words and the bride and groom spoke their vows. When they kissed, everyone cheered.

  I found myself deeply affected by watching this. The bizarre thing was that I even started tearing up—though I managed to blink it back. I never before thought I’d be the person to cry at a wedding, but the pomp of the ceremony had touched something deep inside me.

  Maybe it was because I was in love for the first time.

  I hadn’t before considered that I was in love. I knew I liked Brianne a whole lot, but love? I wasn’t totally sure how to identify it. But now that I’d put the word to my feelings, I was sure that was what it was.

  And now I finally knew what the big deal was about weddings. I knew what love felt like, why people made these grand gestures and celebrations for it. I could even, just maybe, imagine myself getting married. It was hard to think so far in the future, but the idea of spending the rest of my life with Brianne… Something about it was pretty pleasant.

  There was a reception outside, and I saw that staff was changing out the furniture in the barn so we could eat dinner there. I followed Brianne straight to the open bar and we snagged ourselves glasses of wine.

  I wanted to tell Brianne I loved her, but I felt inhibited. I didn’t feel like I could really say how I felt right now.

  But there was no hurry. I could wait.

  I followed Brianne as she said hello and made small talk with various family members, introducing me to them. Somehow, I was able to impress them. They hadn’t been half as snooty as I’d expected, and even Brianne said that she was surprised at their behavior.

  “I don’t normally get along so well with my extended family,” said Brianne.

  “Maybe everyone’s in a good mood because it’s a happy occasion,” I suggested.

  “It’s possible.” She shrugged.

  I thought about telling Brianne how the ceremony had made me feel, but decided against it. It wasn’t something to be shared now, around all these people, and all these distractions. It was something for a quiet night curled up together, when we were all alone, in our little world.

  But it was hard to sit on it. Acknowledging how I felt had made me feel a little freer to take Brianne’s hand, touch her shoulder, sit close to her. I felt happier than I could remember feeling in a long time.

  My life had completely changed.

  We sat down to dinner at a table with Annie and Brianne’s parents. Annie’s boyfriend was with us as well, and he and I bonded over not knowing anyone here. It was a remarkably smooth evening.

  When we drove back to Beasley that evening, I was exhausted but happy. I decided to just stay at Brianne’s place since I’d moved a lot of my stuff over already.

  When we got into bed, I rested my head on her chest and thought. No, now wasn’t the right time either. The right time would present itself, and I would know when it happened.

  I was thinking of all the things I wanted to tell her when I drifted off to sleep.

  15

  BRIANNE

  G raduation had come and gone. I’d spoken with Kaitlyn about recruiting more people for our music group. We needed someone to do rhythm—a percussionist or maybe a bassist. We’d discussed some people we could talk to, though we weren’t in a huge rush. Now that I was truly done with school, I felt like I could relax a bit.

  Living with Margie wasn’t without its hiccups, but it was smooth sailing for the most part. I disco
vered she was as fastidiously tidy as I was—but even more so. I suspected that she felt a little bad about living here rent free, so she made sure to keep the house extra clean. I’d told her that we could trade off on chores several times, but she’d insisted. If it made her feel better, then I was happy to let her do it.

  Even though the relationship had happened pretty quickly, I felt comfortable. I’d forgotten how good being in a relationship felt. But I didn’t think I’d ever felt like this with Nicole. It’d been pleasant, but it hadn’t felt as deep, somehow.

  Maybe that was the nature of first love. Maybe experience made love richer.

  But then, this was Margie’s first serious relationship, so that train of thought didn’t really make sense.

  I needed to stop overthinking it and just enjoy.

  Margie hadn’t had that much stuff, and I was something of a minimalist, so that was convenient. Our lives fit together like cheap cardboard puzzle pieces—it needed a little finagling, but worked out in the end. I hoped that she’d want to continue living with me even after the summer ended, especially since it was going so well, but I didn’t want to push her.

  Mostly, I was surprised that I was so comfortable allowing her into my space. I’d grown quite a bit, shedding my prickly exterior (with her, at least) and allowing intimacy to grow.

  And she’d made more friends. She got along great with my friend group now, and she was making her own friends at the EAC. Since we’d discovered they were decent people at the potluck, she’d been going to more of their hangouts. Most of them had gone for the summer, but a few had stuck around so she had people to hang out with.

  My parents had also delivered with Leah Hensley’s contact information, and Margie was to start working at the animal rescue soon. She was thrilled. While it wasn’t the same as working with wildlife, since Leah’s rescue focused on abandoned pets, it was still a good opportunity and I was happy for Margie. And best of all, it was paid.