Caspers Ghosts

by Victoria Hyder

  “Alright guys, when you’re ready!” Ethan’s voice called out through the headphones.

  I glanced over at Casper, “Which piece do you want to place?” I asked, my voice sounded weird and distorted to my muffled ears.

  He seemed to have been able to read my lips, as he held up four fingers. I nodded and shuffled the sheet music around until I had the music for the fourth piece of our configured music; the first scene where the Wind-Boy and the Fire-Boy meet. I smiled softly as I ducked my attention back to the music in front of my eyes and cracked my knuckles. I positioned my fingertips on the keys and blew out a soft breath, readying myself. The silence was humming in my ears, begging to be filled and then I pressed down.

  The notes were soft, simple base chords, but they were there, setting the mood; neutral, gentle, a rise up from the loneliness, branching off into something unknown but the excitement was there. It underlined everything; every breath, every note, but it continued on, growing stronger. Suddenly there was a pressure in my chest, eased only by the soft trill of violin strings. I felt my eyes dart over to Casper, his eyes closed and his head tilted to the side as he slowly guided the bow back and forth, as if in slow motion, across the strings. I refocused on the notes in front of me, and the spidery music practically ran off the page with my fingers chasing after it. I practically had the piece memorized it was so beautiful. It somehow sounded even better being blended into the violin strings. I could take what Casper gave me and blend with it. I hadn’t felt this effortless whilst playing in such a long time. It took an afternoon session with Casper playing alongside me to remind me just how beautiful music could be. It seemed like forever since I’d gotten to experience that.

  “That was good guys. Sounds a lot better. Do you want to go again or do another piece?” Ethan’s voice called out through the headphones, jolting me out of my musings.

  “Uh …” My mind felt a little foggy.

  I hadn’t realised we’d stopped. When had my fingers stopped playing? When had I zoned out? Had I played until the end? I must have done if Ethan deemed it sounded better than our mixed tracks. Rubbing a hand down my face I shook myself. I needed to get a coffee as soon as the session was over. It wouldn’t do to have me falling asleep at the piano.

  “We can just do them in sequence,” Casper stated through his mic, his voice sounding a little distorted in my ears. I nodded my confirmation of the idea and readjusted my position on the stool.

  For another hour we played smoothly into the silent air. Our notes blended together, making my chest ache in a strange way. It’s wasn’t unpleasant, so I played through it, leaning into the ache and trying not to let my eyes stray over to how beautifully and rhythmically Casper moved whilst playing his violin. By the time we stopped, it was just gone 8PM and Ethan was signalling that he needed to close for the evening. It was surreal to hear sound as it was meant to be rather than through the leather headphones pressing down over my ears. I packed the sheet music away into a folder and slipped it into Casper’s bag as he secured his violin inside its padded case. My ears ached from being bent back too much. When I checked my phone, I had a few missed texts from Isabel asking where I was, what I was doing, and whether or not I’d actually gone to the recording session with Casper. I rolled my eyes and tapped out a quick, rather abrupt reply.

  ‘Yes I went to the session with him. We need the tracks. Stop being so uptight.’

  Just as I was slipping my phone back into my pocket, it vibrated softly with a response. ‘I know that, Avery! I just wanted to ask you if you were free next weekend!’

  ‘Why couldn’t you have just asked that? What’s happening next weekend?’ I tapped.

  ‘There’s a party at Ethan’s house featuring some up-coming new DJ’s. Thought it’d be something you’d be interested in. Ask him about it if you haven’t left yet.’

  I frowned at the text and didn’t reply. I slipped my phone into my pocket and blinked in surprise when I saw Casper standing at the door, holding it open, waiting for me to follow him. Once in the office I asked, “Hey Ethan, Isabel tells me you have a party at yours next weekend.”

  He spun around and grinned, the florescent lights burning through his blonde hair, “Yeah for up-and-coming young DJ’s. It’s just for them to get their name out there, hand out business cards for future functions etc. Why? Are you interested in playing something?”

  I snorted and shook my head, “I don’t think people would be interested in some kid playing a keyboard.”

  Ethan laughed, “You never know; more people are getting into piano music again.”

  I rolled my eyes, “Okay sure. When you find any jobs or band vacancies saying ‘PIANIST WANTED’ you give me a call.”

  “I’ll bear that in mind,” he grinned before his eyes adjusted over my shoulder. I turned to see Casper standing there looking rather awkward against the dark wall, “Hey Casper that was a great track today. Do you want it on a CD or a USB like last time?”

  “USB is fine,” he stated tonelessly.

  Ethan turned back to his laptop and starting moving the music files onto a memory stick. My stomach felt jittery. I hoped we’d done a good job. After a few seconds the transaction was over and he was dangling the USB out in front of him. It swung from a basic chrome key-ring chain and dangled a few inches from his fingers. Casper reached around me and took the key-ring without touching Ethan’s hand. I bit back a knowing smile as Ethan leaned back in his chair, his eyes flicking between us before grinning again, “Well feel free to stop by. Just let me know and I’ll put your names on the list.”

  “Sounds good,” I grinned before straightening up and flexing my shoulders, “Alright well I’ll see you around next week, okay?”

  The soft tread of Casper’s footsteps followed me as I stepped out into the hallway. “Are you alright?” I asked in a low voice, letting go of the door so it eased back into the frame.

  He looked up at me, his expression dark and unfocused. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” he murmured quietly.

  “Did my zoning out bother you?”

  He shrugged a stiff shoulder, his grip tightening on his bag strap, “Not really.”

  I studied him for a moment. “Have I … done something wrong?”

  “No, not everything is about you.” He snapped, before dropping his gaze. “Look, just don’t worry about it.”

  He tried to walk on ahead of me, but I reached out and yanked on the strap of his bag. He jerked backwards, glaring as he came to a stop. “Stop shutting me out!” I hissed, “I’m going to worry until you tell me what is wrong, so just grow a damn pair and tell me!”

  He tried to tug the bag out of my grip but it didn’t work. The strap dug into my palm, and burned my fingers but I held on. “Just stop, Fletcher!” his voice was cracking, almost like he was hovering between anger and distress.

  I let go of the bag and watched as he staggered back, “Fine, do what you want.”

  I strode past him and made my way along the corridor. I ducked my head and dug my earphones out of my back pocket. I cranked my music up to drown out the sound of my footsteps and the pain thrumming through my veins.

  I drifted into my own little world as I forced myself through the maze of corridors to my dorm room.

  *

  I shouldn’t have stalked off. Looking back on it, I knew that something was clearly bothering him and I’d been a bit of an arse to just hurry off like that. Regardless, that’s how I found myself spending most of my evening through to Sunday afternoon listening to my music with the volume cranked up, plugging away at my essay assignments and taking breaks to chat with Isabel either on the phone or when she came to my place. We hung about and watched movies Saturday night. She even fell asleep on my bed. It was nice feeling the weight of someone else beside me again, despite the tightening of my chest and just how platonic it felt to be sleeping next to Isabel. It helped to ease the pain out of my chest. Casper had sent me a text –a single text as it always was –explaining ju
st why he’d rushed off and if anything, the reason had made me feel both anxious and sickened with myself for hurrying off like a weasel to hide in my room.

  ‘My dad was in a minor car accident. My mum had been texting me all afternoon about his progress. He’s out of surgery and resting.’

  There was no apology for with-holding the information. It was just a clear statement of what had happened to make him so angry. As soon as I’d read that text, all the rage boiling inside me had vanished. I was still hurt that he blatantly didn’t trust me. There was another part of me, though, that wanted me to knock on his door and see if he was alright. That was how I spent all of Sunday afternoon, deliberating on how long I could leave it, before visiting him about his dad became awkward.

  In the end I didn’t do anything.

  I just left my room, grabbing my folder of sheet music as I went. I wanted nothing more than to drown myself in my own music. Listening to it was good, comforting almost, letting me leave my body enough for short periods of time. However, indulging the urge to let my fingers fly across the glossy keys was more than enough to numb the sensation that I was an arsehole.

  As soon as I pushed open the doors to the auditorium, I felt my worries get sucked out of my very soul. I sighed and dragged myself down the steps to the raised stage. My feet made heavy clomping sounds as I made my way to the piano and dropped down into the stool. From the back of the folder in my lap, I slipped out the little black Valentines card I got from Casper. I placed it on the music stand and flexed my fingers.

  It started off rather awkward and shaky but I plunked away at it regardless. I needed to keep playing. Isabel would ask me why I was playing a piece written by Casper to forget about him. It didn’t make sense to me either, but I knew all my other pieces almost my heart. This was the only original material I had yet to play. The notes twinkled out into the cool, still air, filling the room with more sound that just my droning thoughts. As I pressed down on the keys, I let my mind wonder to what I could possibly get up to on my ‘holiday’ to see my parents. The only good thing from doing that was getting to see my little sister and spending time with her. It had been ages since we’d seen each other; I felt as though I needed to relearn who she was. I wanted to be closer with my parents, I really did. I wanted to try and bridge the gap between us, if that was at all possible.

  As I felt my fingers tap away at the keys, the notes swelling in the air, I watched as my mind wondered over to Casper and his family. What were they like? How was his home life in general? He was clearly closer with his parents, to some extent, than I was. That didn’t mean I knew what it was like for him. He was still troubled. He bore the scars of his own mind.

  I jumped in the stool when I felt a hand rest over my own.

  I jerked my head up to see Casper’s neutral expression looking down at our hands, as though he were confused about their touching. He didn’t move. I held my breath. He leaned over a little and I felt pressure on the back of my hand. I long dull note vibrated into the air. I wanted to ask what he was doing there, but my voice wouldn’t work. He leaned in a little closer, the heat of his body radiating against my back. I felt my palms grow clammy over the keys. He slid down onto the stool beside me. I’d almost hoped for our thighs to touch, but there was nothing. Instead I felt the weight of his hand leave mine. His movements were so smooth and gentle; it was like he was floating. A droning note from the black beast’s belly rang out and made my heart spasm.

  “Play,” he murmured, splaying his fingers over the keys.

  I watched him dumbly, “What?”

  “Play,” he pressed down on the keys for emphasis.

  I turned my heavy gaze back to the gleaming keys and positioned my fingers. We started to play. Our notes twinkled together harmoniously, swelling and falling through the air, like a boat bobbing in a calm sea. My eyes kept darting over to watch his fingers move deftly in front of him. I licked my lips. “I’m sorry about your dad,” I choked out as the notes ached through the air.

  “It’s fine,” he replied never breaking the flow of the song, “He’s at home and resting now.”

  His low voice was soothing but it didn’t quell the ache in my chest. I let my hands fall away from the piano keys. I turned in the stool. He didn’t stop playing. His hands moved so effortlessly. “I wish you would have told me what was going on,” I said.

  “It wouldn’t have done you any good to get involved.”

  “Why not?” His eyes darted to mine and then back to his hands. He shrugged. “Casper, regardless of what you think, I do care about you. If something’s bothering you, you’re allowed to tell me. You’re allowed to want someone else to care about it.” He scoffed but didn’t say anything. “I know you don’t trust me.” I hadn’t meant to say it, but the worlds had dropped out of my mouth like stones.

  His hands stopped. He whipped around on the stool to face me, his expression openly insulted and his eyes as hard as steel. “What?” he spat out. “You think I don’t trust you?”

  “Not enough to share actual thoughts with, no.”

  He frowned, his mouth twisting into a grimace. I dropped my gaze to look at our hands on the padded seat. Merely an inch from one another, and yet the distance had never felt so great. A heavy weight settled inside my chest. Perhaps I should have listened to him when he’d said nothing would ever happen between us. Nothing more than friendship at least. I sighed and leaned down to grab the folder that had slipped from my lap. I thought I could handle it but I couldn’t. Nothing would dull the ache whenever I watched him, longing for him and knowing I couldn’t have him.

  I stood up from the stool and made to leave when I felt him tug my shirt. I turned to face him, my face impassive.

  “Don’t leave. Not like that,” his voice sounded so helpless. I sank back down onto the stool, “I just want you to be a little more open with me. Give me the illusion that you give a fuck about what I think.”

  “It wouldn’t be an illusion,” he stated quietly.

  “Are you saying you do trust me?” He nodded his head and I sighed, “Well, I wish I could believe you.”

  I flinched when I felt his palm lightly press against my cheek. I looked down at him, my heart suddenly reanimating in my chest. I slowly leaned into the cool, unfamiliar touch and felt my body tremor with relief, confusion and fear. His eyes were like pools of water on an overcast day. I wanted to loose myself in them, I felt my body tense a little as I caught a whiff of his aftershave –when did he ever wear that? It made me feel lightheaded.

  “Avery …” he breathed softly, my name sounding weird to my ears.

  And then he kissed me.

  I was too stunned to respond. My eyes were wide open as he pressed his mouth against mine. It was awkward and stiff but I soon softened the kiss. His lips were a little chapped under my own, but I didn’t care. The world seemed to melt away and I was sure I’d wake up soon. Not one part of our bodies touched, except for our lips. My eyes fluttered closed as I leaned forward a little, tasting his mouth delicately with my own. I didn’t want to scare him off. Not just yet. His body trembled a little when I tried to pull away; he let out a shaking little whimper and leaned up again, his mouth opening wider this time, his lips igniting a hunger deep inside me. I felt it rise within me, the onslaught of passion just dying to rip out. I was surprised when I felt the faint nip of his teeth as he sucked my bottom lip. I shuddered again, breaking the kiss.

  Opening my eyes, I felt lightheaded. Casper looked quite dazed himself; his eyes were heavily-lidded and his pale cheeks were blushing. His lips were pink and wet and I ached to kiss him again. My mouth still tingled from his touch. I ran a finger over my lips. He smiled lazily. I couldn’t help but smile back as I let my hand drop.

  “That was nice,” he murmured, his voice already thick with want.

  I swallowed, “Is it too cheesy to say I’ve wanted to know how that felt for ages?”

  He cut his eyes at me but there was no malice there, simply surprise
and amusement, “Yes. It’s extremely cheesy.” He reached up, his fingers quaking through the air before he tentatively touched my cheek, “But if it makes you feel better, I couldn’t not kiss you.”

  I could feel my cheeks flushing as I looked at him and how perfect he looked. He was just dressed in the basic long-sleeved white shirt and his hair was gleaming like a raven’s wing, but the added colour of those shiny pink lips just made me ache for more. I turned my head and pressed a kiss into his palm, ignoring the way his breath hitched in surprise. “So,” I hedged, feeling awkward, giddy and brave all at the same time. “Your place or mine?”

  Before he could respond to my teasing, however, the sound of the auditorium doors slammed shut. We jumped in our seats, scanning the aisles for movement. No one else was there. I strained my ears to listen but no sound came. That’s when I felt Casper’s nails digging into my arm before he let out one soft, harrowing word, “Shit.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Contrary to popular belief, Casper and I did not immediately break through every single one of his barriers and start holding hands and kissing in every alcove dotted around the University. We did not start pinching each other’s arse’s, or hug outside every class, or even sneak a chaste kiss in between lectures. I wanted to, deep down, but I was so wrapped up in the glow Casper seemed to get whenever we were near one another, that I found I didn’t have a problem with it. He even seemed to interact a little more with Isabel, not a lot, but enough for both of us to be surprised.