by Kristi Ayers
When I got to my room, I didn’t have the door open but an inch before Violet bombarded me with rapidly fired questions. “So how was it? Did you two kiss? Why aren’t you still down there? Did he ask you out on a date?”
“Whoa, Violet. Slow it down. Before I say anything, I’m putting my foot down and going to bed right after this. No talking past midnight again.”
She nodded enthusiastically, wide-eyed and ready to hear about my evening. “I knew it must have gone well if you stayed in his room for an hour. Look at you! Two prospects–”
“No-no-no. Adam has a girlfriend and Max is just someone I’m helping out. Like a voice coach, in a way.”
“Holland,” she shook her head, “you kill me. Anyway, go ahead with what happened.” She settled back on a giant fuzzy pink pillow; the only thing missing was a bag of popcorn and soda.
“It was nice. We had some tea. No, we didn’t kiss, and I’m playing my violin tomorrow at Adam’s house for them.”
Her jaw dropped. “That’s big, Holland.”
I shook my head, disagreeing. “No, it’s not. Max just wants to see how I can play. Just a few musicians getting together, that’s all.” I gathered a T-shirt and pajama pants, fully ready to jump into bed.
“How can you go to sleep after all this? It’s so exciting!”
“Goodnight, Violet.”
The next day, hours passed like minutes and I found myself wishing for more time in the day. Specifically, more time before band practice because I was insanely nervous. I concluded it was from a combination of things and not just simple jitters from performing in front of new people. The history with Adam and his recent admission was most poignant, but also having Max watch me play was strangely causing me butterflies. Maybe it was because I felt I needed to be perfect in order to offer him any tips about singing.
Perfect was what I was determined to be when I steeled my nerves and knocked on Adam’s door, violin case clutched in my hand like a lifeline.
“Welcome,” Adam greeted. He had a mixed drink in his hand, the ice clinking against the glass. “Come in. May I offer you a cocktail?”
I stepped into the warm house, happy to be out of the October chill. “No, thank you.”
“By your standards, now is the ‘right’ time for drinks.” He led me to the studio knowing I had no interest in a drink, yet not afraid to tease me.
“Yes, well, my liver made me promise hours ago to not have one. I’m here to play my violin and give Max something to help his voice.” The something was in the backpack I had slung over my shoulder. And I was nervous Max would think I’d lost my mind when we opened it. I bought it a few hours ago, spending a good thirty minutes arguing with myself whether I should suggest he buy it or simply buy it for him. I banked on the latter, knowing most men would never go into a store and purchase such an item. I really shouldn’t have spent the money on something that wasn’t for myself, but I’d gotten a little extra money from my parents recently, and well, spending it to help someone else was more rewarding than buying the school clothes that it had originally been meant for.
Adam looked intrigued as his brown eyes glanced at my backpack. “This should be interesting,” he commented and then turned in to his studio. “Look who made it!” He held his drink up as if giving cheers to all of us.
I blushed, not liking the feeling of being announced in such a way. Max and Douglas both greeted me, warmth in their eyes. I could see they’d been playing their guitar and bass but decided to turn off their amps in anticipation of hearing a different kind of music.
Adam touched my arm. “One second, Cates. I need a refill.” He downed the nearly full drink he had, watching me intently—almost with desire, then disappeared toward the kitchen.
I turned to the guys. “Is this how he always is?”
Douglas answered, but I didn’t miss how Max looked frustrated with the unfolding scene. “Yeah, but usually hard liquor is saved for the weekend. Not sure why he’s hitting it tonight.” He scratched his curly mop of brown hair and sat on the couch. “But we’re excited to hear you play.” He beamed, which made me smile.
I looked over at Max, who was moving a microphone stand to the side, presumably making a space for me to stand. “Max, I bought you something today that I think you should use before and after practice.” He looked over at my backpack that I set on a small table, his brows furrowing with confusion.
“You bought it?” He walked over to stand by me.
“I think it will really help. Many singers use one.” I lifted the box out, a picture of a throat steamer displayed aesthetically on the side.
“Wow, Holland. Gosh, thank you, but you need to let me pay you back. I’m sure this wasn’t cheap.”
“Cates gave you a fancy crack pipe. Awesome.” Adam was leaning against the door frame, his amber-hued drink full now. He looked on with a mix of sarcasm and envy.
Max swore under his breath and ignored him, then looked sincerely into my eyes. “Thank you for this. I’ll pay you back.”
Before I could tell him not to worry about it, Adam blurted out, “You don’t pay her back that way. Make a lasting impression where she’ll fight from buying out the entire store for you.”
With a pained look, Max said to me in a whisper, “I’m sorry about him.” His usual ocean blue eyes were now midnight blue, heated with emotion.
“Let’s give Holland the stage,” Douglas said, trying to sound chipper. “I for one can’t wait to hear some classics.”
Max took a seat on the couch with Douglas, but Adam remained standing. I took my violin out of the case, tested a few notes with the bow, and then took a deep breath. In my mind, I left the room. Eyes closed, heartbeat slowly elevating with excitement, I was back at my parents’ house in my bedroom. The notes connected and formed a popular song most people have heard on the radio, “Counting Stars” by OneRepublic. I chose it because classical was expected, not pop rock. My senior year in high school, I thought why not do something different; veer off the crowded highway and take a path unfrequently appreciated. My Orchestra director was only mildly impressed, being a straight shooter for nothing but classical. A few of my friends were in awe, though. And so, in my spare time, I focused on popular songs of today and a few from the yester-years.
When I held the last note, I timidly opened my eyes. Tense, I waited for Adam’s criticism to fill my ears, but I was greeted with silence and three faces equally in awe.
“You’re amazing,” Max exhaled and continued looking at me with admiration.
“Play another!” Douglas practically was bouncing like a kid.
“Oh, I—Well, I’m sure you guys want to practice.” I began to put my violin away and gather my things.
“Is that the only one you learned?” Adam’s question stopped me cold. He couldn’t politely ask me to play a second song. No, he had to strike a nerve assuming I wouldn’t back down, thus getting what he wanted. Our eyes locked, confidence bouncing back and forth.
“Goading comments will only get ignored.”
“What? I just wanted to know if you had any others.” He took a sip of his drink, his eyes watching me over the rim of the glass. “And you’re far from ignoring me right now.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Not tonight. I want to get Max set up with the steamer.” I looked over at Max. “I’ll show you how to set it up in the kitchen.” I didn’t look back at Adam, but I could feel he wasn’t happy about the attention going to Max.
When we both were standing at the sink, he shook his head, a look of regret on his face. “Holland, I had no idea what an ass he’d be tonight. I’m so sorry. He’s usually not like that, at least not toward people we know. Something’s bothering him.”
“Well, when I knew him in the tenth grade, he was nothing like that. What the heck happened?” I filled the steamer’s reservoir with water and turned it on. Within moments, warm steam billowed out. I handed it to Max, hoping he wouldn’t feel weird using it. He looked at it for a few long mo
ments.
Apparently, I took his indecision wrong. It wasn’t about the steamer. “I’m going to let Adam tell you. It’s not my place to say.” Sympathy graced his brows and I knew it must have been something truly heartbreaking. I nodded, Adam’s face in my mind.
A few more minutes of steam and Max was ready to sing. “Now time to give you a little surprise.” He smiled down at me, his eyes twinkling with excitement.
Chapter 5
Max
Back in the studio, I walked over to Adam. His eyebrows rose as he straightened behind the drums, likely assuming I was about to start a confrontation, but no, I had no intention of that. I had another idea in mind, and he’d better go with it. A month ago, we practiced the very song Holland chose to play for us. I wanted her to hear me sing it. Obviously, it was one she liked if she set aside time to learn it on the violin.
She took a seat on the couch while I spoke to Adam in a hushed voice. To my shock, he agreed. I would have bet anything he’d say no for the simple fact that he could.
I wish I had a video camera on Holland, because when we launched into the first few notes, her face was sunshine personified. I could almost feel her excitement. The combination of the steamer on my throat and her reaction caused my voice to sound stronger than ever before. Right after that song, Adam led us directly into another. Again, I had no slip-ups. We played as if we were at a show in a bar, which happened to be exactly where we planned to play in a week. Adam also wanted to contact more locations for us, having goals to get our name out there and a steady calendar of set dates. Once, he even mentioned touring and absorbing the costs himself. Our freshman year in college had consisted of mostly playing acoustic on the grounds and a few parties. Word of mouth was helping us branch out, and hopefully, the bars and clubs on the boardwalk would allow us in soon.
Adam, about a month ago, brought up recording a demo to help us. He slowly started bringing in equipment to do it all himself. The only thing holding us back was needing a few original songs, something he said he’d handle. All of this made me curious what exactly his intentions were. Did he want a rock star experience before graduating and going out into the real world? His major was Business, not Music.
We did a third song before we decided to take a break. Then, taking Holland’s advice, I drank water and not my usual soda.
“You were awesome,” she said as she came over to me. Her hazel eyes were bright with emotion.
“Thank you. I give you all the credit.”
“No-no, it’s all you. I just gave you a few tips.”
“You did more than that.” Our eyes locked and I wanted to tell her exactly what all she’d done. No one had ever bothered to help me out. The most I got were scathing criticisms from Adam, as if humiliation and anger would improve my voice.
Unfortunately, I didn’t get to say anything. Our gazes were ripped apart when Adam sidled between us, facing Holland fully. I glared at the back of his head a few tense seconds before I stepped away to finish my water.
“Cates, how about you stay a while after the guys leave.” His voice didn’t slur, but he was undoubtedly still drunk. The tempo of his words was languid, yet confident.
Before I could state my opposition of the matter, Holland declined gracefully. “I would, but I have an early morning.”
“That begs the question, what would be so important to have a child’s bedtime?”
I wanted to snap at him that it wasn’t any of his business, but I held my tongue. It wasn’t easy.
Holland laughed humorlessly. “Some people have to find a job.”
“Oh, that’s it? I assumed you needed to give your assistance to those in need again.” He said the last sentence derisively, and it didn’t get past either of us that he was referring to me.
Holland kept herself in check, though. She knew she was being baited to defend herself, but instead, she chose to deflect. “I saw the coffee shop had an opening, so that will be my first stop. I really like the atmosphere there.”
Adam moved past her. “Yeah, well, good luck.” And then he went into the kitchen with his empty glass.
Holland gathered her things. I knew she wanted to bolt, even though our practice wasn’t finished yet. “Max, be sure to steam your throat tonight. I’m heading out. Thanks for letting me listen. You sounded great.” She turned to Douglas. “Douglas, you have mad bass skills.”
He beamed. “Gracias, danke, and thank you in whatever Chinese would be.”
She giggled at that. The tension seemed to be broken, thanks to my friend. “Okay, goodnight, guys.”
“Wait,” I stepped forward. “Let me walk you back. It’s dark and not entirely safe.”
She thought a moment, part of her mind probably telling her not to ruin my practice session. But I didn’t care. I’d rather she got back to her room safely.
Douglas helped me out when I quickly glanced at him. “Yeah, I have an early morning too. We can just all go.”
“Okay,” she finally agreed.
It didn’t take us long to gather up our stuff. On the way out, I stuck my head into the kitchen and saw Adam sitting at the table with an amber bottle and a shot glass. “Hey, man. Do you want to tell me what’s up?”
“Just walk her home.” He refused to look at me, but rather, angrily stared at his shot glass, his mouth in a dejected line.
It was four simple words, but there was a weight behind them. Something was on his mind, but I wouldn’t press him to open up. He would do that on his own terms, in his own time. I left him as he was, eyes glazed and probably minutes from falling asleep right there at the table.
Outside, the night was crisp, hinting winter was right around the corner. Soon the trees would be bare, and the first snowflakes would fall. I saw Holland tilt her head back slightly, looking up. “The stars are gorgeous tonight.”
In my head, I thought, so are you. Douglas caught me staring at her and pantomimed shooting an arrow into my ass. Thankfully, Holland was too enamored with the celestial lights to have
noticed. The rest of the walk was filled with Douglas’s knowledge about space. Holland seemed genuinely interested, which made me like her even more. Most people only humored Douglas, soon boring easily and changing the subject, or worse, making fun of him. Not Holland. She was wholeheartedly curious and asked questions, the flow of the conversation unfolding into a new friendship. It was nice to watch.
When we ascended our dorm’s steps, I hurried to hold the door open for them. Douglas tipped his pretend top hat. “Thank you, kind sir.”
An alarming issue came to my mind then, and I started to inwardly panic because, within a few moments, she’d be walking up to her room and we had no plans set to meet again. I didn’t even have her number yet. Then a thought came to me. “I can get you the money for the steamer if you want to meet tomorrow. I don’t mind going to the coffee shop to catch up with you.” She started to shake her head, as if to decline, so I interrupted whatever she was going to say. “I can’t just not pay you, so don’t even think about it.”
She exhaled with a smile as her hazel eyes looked at me through long lashes. Her teeth grazed her lip as she contemplated for a moment. “Okay. I plan to be there at eight. I’ll see you then.”
“I’ll be there.”
When Douglas and I got to our room, he closed the door and started chuckling.
“What?” I knew what, though.
“You, my friend, are in love.”
I sighed. “Stop it.”
“Don’t deny it. I’ve known you forever. I know when you’re pissed, bummed, and if Cupid paid a visit. It’s not my fault you’re as readable as a picture book.”
I raked my hand through my hair. “We haven’t even been on a date. There’s no way I’m anything yet.”
He plopped his round frame on his bed, picking up a controller and starting a shooting game. “She’s hot, has an eclectic taste in music, not to mention talented in that same area. She’s giving, knowledgeable, and hot. Oh, I al
ready said hot. She has patience with Adam’s shit, and we know how challenging that can be. So I’d say you know her well enough to be something.”
I wasn’t going to admit it, but yes, I was something. And tomorrow I would need to figure out a reason to get her number. I couldn’t let her disappear from my life. Not after she stitched a few arresting threads into my heart.
That night, I called home to check on my parents. Mom told me Dad had a few bad days recently, but otherwise was doing well. My four sisters were the same as always, each one a different species, all trying to live under one roof. Mom’s main concern had been if I was coming to Thanksgiving in a few weeks.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I told her. Her beaming smile could be felt through the phone.
“Bring Douglas if he has…no plans.” We both knew he had no plans. His parents barely did Christmas, much less anything else.
We hung up and I was happy to fall asleep before it even crossed Douglas’s mind to hit the sack.
Showered and dressed, I stopped by the ATM. It wasn’t hard to find the price of the steamer online. I didn’t want to short-change her.
The bustle of students kept a steady ebb and flow in the coffee shop, some rushing to get to their classes while others killed time sitting by the giant stone fireplace. I spotted Holland at a small round table writing on a piece of paper I assumed was an application.
“Good morning,” I greeted her softly.
Her hazel eyes warmed when she looked up and motioned for me to sit with her. “Good morning to you too.” She glanced at her application, uncertainty crossing her features. “This job… It would be different than waitressing at a restaurant.”
Her long brown hair was pulled back from her face and she was wearing a button-up shirt, clearly ready to make a good first impression on someone. “I’m sure you’d pick it up quickly.”
“I don’t even know what the difference between a Cafe Latte and a Flat White is. It’s like being a bartender, but with coffee. Except you do fancy things with the milk, and even the froth. Little bubbles, big bubbles, folding…I just don’t know about this…” She had her phone opened to Google, researching different coffees.