by Leanne Davis
Derek stared at the phone for a critical moment. Then his head jerked up and he just stared at her. “Jesus, Olivia. I’ve never seen or heard such a thing. I’m kind of speechless. I thought you meant marching band kind of flute.”
She cleared her throat and shrugged her shoulders. “Yes, I can do that too.”
“That,” he nodded towards her phone, “is awesome. I don’t even know what to say. I can’t do anything like that. I don’t know anyone who can.”
She sat up straighter. “You don’t think it’s stupid?”
“Stupid? Did you seriously ask me that?”
“Well,” she shrugged. “I get different reactions. Most wonder why I do something so obscure. It’s not typical.”
His gaze held hers and his smile vanished, but an odd gleam filled his eyes. “There’s nothing typical about you, is there?”
She shrugged and heat filled her entire body. “Just about everything, actually.”
“Where do you do this at?”
“Not far from campus. We practice a few nights a week at their house. Once in a while, we do actual performances. They’re usually weddings. Larissa and Maggie are sisters in their twenties. One of my music teachers hooked me up with them.”
“You should be doing this on a stage in front of thousands. It deserves some kind of huge acoustic system and a grand stage.”
“I was on my way to practice with them when I ran into you in the park that day. They live near here. It’s half of why I wanted to go to school here. That, and my cousins both go here. I live with one.” She leaned back and finally relaxed her posture a few inches. He now knew what some ridiculed. He didn’t ridicule it, so maybe he was worth a few more moments of her time. She waved her hand at him. “So where are you from?”
“Here. California, that is.”
“You don’t live on campus?”
“No.”
“I live in Gifford Tower. I’m from Calliston, have you ever heard of it?”
“Yeah, a few hours east of here?”
“Yes.”
“I have to ask, if you can do that,” he waved at her phone again, “why are you bothering to go here?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you don’t need to spend years wasting away in lecture halls. If you can do something like that now, already, why the hell would you come here?”
“I always wanted to go. I want to study music here. And besides, I don’t think I can make an actual living from just this, although I love to do it. What are you here for?”
“Um, don’t know actually. I don’t actually have any fucking idea what I’m doing here.”
She smiled in sympathy. “Did your parents pressure you to go college?”
“No. Never. My dad’s dead and my mom… well, no, it’s not her thing to pressure me into anything. I guess I just figured, what the hell? You know?”
She shrugged and smiled as she glanced away. “No, actually, I don’t know. I always know what I’m doing and why. I’ve always been like that. I wish I could just go with the flow.” Act young. Act crazy. Act like a normal teenager. She’d never really been a normal kid even. She’d always been light years more mature than she needed to be, and still was. She both loved and hated it. She got along with her parents like they were all best friends. She was responsible and trustworthy and did everything like she was supposed to, and it never occurred to her to want to change that.
“I should confess, I’m not much of a student. I’m only here for one class. I haven’t decided yet if I want to do the school thing or not.”
“I’m glad you tried the one then,” she said glancing up and shifting her gaze to a neighboring table. Lame. It sounded like a stupid line. Not even a good line. But it was the truth. His presence made her pulse skitter around weirdly and her breath catch from just looking at him.
He leaned back and smiled too. “I’m glad I tried it too now. Look, Olivia-not-into-games, I want to see you again.”
“You could come to our show this weekend. It’s nothing much, but you could see my weird music live.”
His gaze felt hot on her. She kept tracing over the carved name. He didn’t answer for a long, serious moment. Finally, he nodded. “Yeah. I’d like to come.”
She glanced up. There was an odd instant when he studied her so intently, she finally had to shrug and smile with self-deprecation. She just asked him out. At least, he didn’t run from her or start laughing. Or maybe he’d laugh later with his friends and humiliate her. She shook her head. That was Kylie talking. She had to stop doing that.
“I have to go early to practice and set up. I’ll text you the address.”
“I’ll be there. Or I’m done forever, right?”
She smiled finally. “Right. Now or never.”
****
Holy Christ! He was out of his league. He thought he’d be in control, and make an impression on her. She seemed kind of innocent and naive, so he figured he’d have all the power between them. He thought he’d bait her into being attracted to him. Not this… feeling totally out of his mind and suddenly impressed by her. She was intelligent. Stoic almost in her resolve. And her personality. She wasn’t what he thought. Then again, she was right; why should he think anything? He didn’t think he’d be sitting there and staring at the most unusual, talented person he’d ever met before. She kept her eyes on the table, her long, soft hair sweeping forward. It was the only thing remotely girlie about her. The ends landed in thick chunks on the table when she flipped it around.
The music was not really his taste. Actually, it was more music than he’d heard in as long as he could remember. Culture wasn’t his thing. Music, in general, also wasn’t his thing. He was lucky to know even a current hip-hop song. He’d never known anyone who could do something like that. He’d never known anyone who was so special. Not really. Not like the girl before him who kept tracing the name on the table. Why was she so convinced he’d think she was stupid for doing something truly extraordinary? Didn’t she know how extraordinary she was?
What was he doing there? Her question kept rotating around his brain. Why was he sitting there on a college campus, having a coffee with a girl, to whom he was lying about everything? Why? He had no reason to do that. He didn’t need to lie just to get laid. He managed to be successful at that without ever once uttering he was a damn college freshman, of all things. Had to finish high school to do that, now, didn’t he? He never made up stories and elaborate covers to sit and have coffee with some girl. That’s all she seemed to be, like a teenage girl, until… she didn’t. Until she seemed much older and very responsible and focused. She played this weird music that was somehow hot. That was pretty incredible. She wasn’t typical or normal, and for the first time since he could remember, someone intrigued him. He wasn’t simply trying to convince her to go somewhere and get laid.
No, he made a date. Not sure he’d ever been on one of those.
Chapter Three
DEREK ENTERED THE HALL wondering what he was in for. It was a dingy, one-story building, with low ceilings that were still rimmed in smoke. It appeared to be a small town meeting place. There weren’t too many people there. The “audience” was comprised mostly of old people who were milling about. He was about the only young guy there. He slipped into a metal chair near the back. The place was lit with florescent lights that flickered and highlighted the spots on the dull, scuffed, wood floors. It smelled of mold. The stage was only three steps up from the floor, and metal chairs had been set up in sparse rows. They were not expecting a large audience. Not exactly nice.
The lights dimmed a little and he guessed maybe twenty people were there. He shifted around, feeling already completely embarrassed for Olivia, and how he anticipated she’d feel knowing he witnessed this lame show of hers. He should have said no. He should have made the coffee their last chat ever. He should have tried to take her somewhere to charm her out of her dude clothes. Instead he was here, alone in a row, slouched in a hard, unco
mfortable chair with his arms crossed over his chest and his legs spread out before him.
The three girls came out onto the small stage. One went to the piano just off to the side while the other two stayed next to each other. Olivia wore a black tank top and black pants. He guessed not wearing jeans was “dressed up” for her. The other two wore long dresses. The girls smiled at each other, and their nervousness became obvious. Olivia didn’t lift her head even once to see the paltry audience. They didn’t say anything as the one with the violin started playing snappy notes, which the piano soon added to.
Olivia lifted the small, slender instrument and held it to her lips before joining in. Her fingers deftly flew up and down the shiny flute. Her fingernails were painted a dark color which tended to exaggerate the flurry of her movements. Derek sat up as the song climbed faster. She leaned her head towards the microphone in front of her as the fast, toe-tapping sounds filled the hall. Suddenly, they weren’t in a dumpy, old theatre with no one around. They weren’t an anonymous group. Derek soon became lost while listening to them. Up and down, the music crested, then all over again. They played three more songs; two were fast like the first one, and the other was a soft, beautiful ballad. The skillful way the three of them played their instruments and married the separate sounds into one would have put anything created by computers or electronics to shame. It lifted the whole atmosphere from what he expected would be a pathetic, small, and insignificant performance to one worthy of celebration. Derek was on the edge of his seat, and completely captivated as he watched them, although his eyes were mostly fastened on Olivia. He forgot where he was, and even where he was sitting. He no longer thought about the hardness of his chair or the mildewy smell from the damp, foul building. He wasn’t Derek Salazar, drug dealer, anymore. He was completely entranced with the prettiest girl he’d ever seen and the strange music she created that he never knew he liked.
They stopped suddenly and the entire place became strangely silent. After a trifling applause, the trio quickly bowed, holding their instruments carefully as they exited with little fanfare. A drape lifted as the main attraction commenced. The outside billboard announced it as, yet another, rendition of Thornton Wilder’s “Our Town.” He quickly slipped out the back, feeling completely annoyed. There was so little appreciation over what those three talented girls had just created.
It was ridiculous. The real talent belonged to Olivia and the other two girls. Yet the scarcity of applause from the audience members, although a few mumbled their approval, made Derek wish he could clap loudly and whistle, just to give them a taste of the response they deserved. He paced in the small lobby of the theatre. Finally, he spotted Olivia, who was approaching from down a narrow hallway. She stopped and glanced around it. Her momentary hesitation instantly ended and a smile blossomed on her face when she saw him there.
Who smiled like that? No one he’d ever been with. They stared at each other across the small lobby for a pronounced moment. The two other girls passed around Olivia, saying, “Bye, Liv, see you next week.” Neither one even glanced at Derek.
He stepped across the entrance, and stopped dead in front of her, with his shoes right at the toes of her knee-high black boots. They were eye to eye, and he didn’t smile, or even say hi. He simply leaned into her, put his hands around her waist, pulled her against him, and started kissing her. He wasn’t planning that. It wasn’t a calculated move or a smooth way to touch her. He simply couldn’t think of anything to say. How could he explain what he felt percolating in his chest? So he tried to express how he felt by touching her.
Their mouths met and their tongues came together. He lifted his hands from her waist to cup her face, which he tilted up before his tongue fully delved into her mouth. She whimpered and her stance shifted like her legs were nearly giving out. He expected her to pull back, but she leaned into him more and her hands circled around his neck. Holding him tightly, her mouth opened wider. He pushed her back into the theatre wall and their kiss went on and on, until they heard someone’s throat being cleared behind them and tsking sounds.
They finally parted, but kept their lips mere centimeters apart. Their breaths mingled, and her eyes seemed huge and wide as she met his gaze. Her mouth opened in a little, half gasp. He finally took a step back and glanced over his shoulder. The woman tsking at them seemed to be in her fifties or so. She turned with a practiced scowl and muttered, “Really, kids these days.”
Olivia still had her arms around his neck and a soft smile started to cross her lips. “You came.” Her voice was almost breathless. He leaned in and kissed her mouth again. This time, everything was closed and appropriate.
“I came.”
“Did you like it?” Her hopeful expression and huge eyes were endearing. He still had her face cupped in his hands. Realizing it, he let go and kissed her lips again. What the hell? He never did that. Why did he feel the irrepressible urge to kiss her? So what if she had wide, red, puffy lips? He didn’t usually feel the urge to keep kissing a woman for no real reason.
“The place sucks. The people suck. The main attraction sucks. You, all three of you, were fucking royalty up there. Yeah, I liked it.” I like you. The words almost followed, but he bit his tongue in time to stop them. Jesus, what was she doing to him?
“I thought maybe you’d only see how much it sucked and not what I do.”
“I saw what you did.” He said, his tone softer. Then he added with his usual swagger, “And the other girls. Together, you’re amazing.” Different. Strange. Yet, compelling. He would never willingly have gone to see or experience such a performance; and couldn’t imagine many others who would, but felt that they should. More people should really see this beautiful, talented girl, shining up on a stage, despite the dismal, sad surroundings and lack of atmosphere.
He leaned down and touched his lips to hers again. Still hovering over her mouth, he whispered, “Let’s get out of here, Olivia.”
She didn’t react for a moment. Her hands unclasped his neck and started to slide down his chest. She stiffened and shoved him back. Her eyes lowered and stayed glued to their feet. “I don’t think so.”
Her tone sounded disappointed. Disappointed in him. Like she expected better. He never had a girl react that way to him. She sounded almost sad. He grabbed her hands in his and held them. “Get out of here and go to dinner, I meant. What were you thinking? Dirty, dirty mind you have there. I had no idea,” he quickly amended with a grin, and his eyes caressed her face with kindness. He meant they should get out of there and go kiss some more. In private. Someplace where they could stretch out and he could show her more. But he immediately knew by her tone that it was out of the question.
Lifting her chin, a smile played over her lips. “Oh, that’s what you meant. Sure. I’m not that easy, Derek. If you want that, then we should shake hands here and call it an evening now.”
So soft and scared one moment, she seemed nearly to say screw off the next. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been in the presence of anyone like her.
He could lie, which he did very well, and very often. Sometimes, he didn’t even know why he lied. Perhaps he was a compulsive liar. Who knew? And Lord knows, he was already lying to her. That would have to continue, if they didn’t shake hands and end it now.
It would be the only decent thing he’d ever done in his life.
“I don’t need easy. I don’t even like easy,” he muttered. His lips once more leaned into hers and touched. She pushed him back and he reluctantly let her go. She passed around him and started across the lobby only to stop when the old bat from earlier stepped out from the restroom.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, for a moment ago. You’re right; this isn’t the place.”
He leaned back on the balls of his feet, and rocked forward. Was she for real? Apologizing to this prudish bat for barely kissing? Who cared what she thought?
The woman’s sour face loosened. Finally, she nodded. “I appreciate the apology. Just realize this: some of us don�
�t want to watch it.”
Olivia shook her head. “No of course not. We’ll be more discreet in the future.”
They would? Derek stared at the back of her head, completely puzzled. Annoyed. Transfixed. She was so polite, and nice and proper. She was so unlike any woman he’d been around. He stepped closer to her and felt like pushing his tongue into her mouth again, or perhaps, just nibbling her ear to see the old lady’s head explode. Instead, his hand grazed her lower back, and he touched the silk of her black tank top. She had some kind of black wrap around it that hid most of her. There wasn’t anything obvious about Olivia.
The woman glared at him. “You seem like a nice, young lady. Make sure you don’t let anyone change that.”
Olivia simply laughed. It was like something from Tinkerbell. “Thank you. No need to worry; no one changes me.” She turned her head so they were staring at each other. “Not even boys.”
The woman finally laughed. “I like it. Your attitude. You were pretty amazing playing that thing earlier. It’s a strange talent. And rare. Never seen any girls your ages doing such a thing. But you should keep doing it. People will pay to see you someday.”
Now, he didn’t hate the old witch so much. She tilted her head with a subtle nod. “Thank you, ma’am. Again, I’m sorry we made you uncomfortable.”
As she passed by the lady, and approached the door, he followed her. Once again, he scowled at the old bat.
Outside, Olivia started digging around the bag she had on her shoulder. There was no purse. “Why did you apologize to her?”
She glanced up while pressing the button on her key fob. “She was embarrassed. Most people don’t like to watch other people sticking their tongues down each other’s throat. I don’t. Seemed like the decent thing to do.”
“Sticking their tongues down each other’s throats?”