The Fake Boyfriend Experiment(5)

I started to play, smashing my fingers down on the keys. I wanted to break those ivory keys. I wanted to punish them for the fact that my talent with them forced me into this life.

Crusty sat silent for almost three minutes, then she shook her head and stood up. “I can’t deal with you today. You’re a disaster. I’m leaving.”

Then she walked out, slamming the door shut behind her.

I stared at the closed door in shock. She’d never pulled that one on me before. She probably wanted to torture me by making me sit alone for ten minutes, contemplating all the ways that I was a failure and was letting her and my parents down. Then I was probably supposed to start practicing so when she came back I would prove I was worthy.



I could do that. Or I could live up to my mom’s constant complaints that I don’t always conduct myself in a manner worthy of being a piano prodigy...

I thought of a black velvet hairbow. I thought of neon green nail polish and brightly colored tattoos.

I’d been sprung from prison. What was I going to do with the opportunity?

It took me all of three seconds to grab my music off the piano, shove it in my backpack and climb out the window.





CHAPTER TWO


I eased myself into the flowerbed, landing softly on the mulch and a couple of flowers, listening for Crusty coming after me.

No sound of an incoming psycho music teacher.

For a moment, I didn’t move. Was I really going to do this? It wasn’t too late to climb back over the window sill and reclaim my post as the girl my parents thought I should be. But as soon as I thought about sitting on that bench again, my stomach turned over and my chest felt like someone had taken a screw driver and jammed it right between my ribs.

I looked down at my clean white Keds covered in mulch, the bark dust like orange speckles marring the perfectness of the shoes. I sank my fingers into the dirt, closing my eyes as the coolness wrapped around my hand. The sun was warm on my back, and I could hear birds chirping. The farewell to summer.

My farewell.

I hadn’t had a summer, but I had the next hour until my mom came to get me. Could I fit a whole summer into an hour? I could try.

I took a deep breath and stood up. I wasn’t going back. Not right now. Not today.

Lifting my chin, I slung my backpack over my shoulder, then started walking toward the back of the red brick house that had been converted into a music school seventy years ago. I knew there was a garden in back where some of the singers practiced on nice days. I’d go hang out there until my mom arrived. Granted, it wasn’t the beach or anything, but it would be my space, my world, my choice for at least a few minutes.

There was no way I was going to wait out front where Crusty would be able to find me. I was taking the rest of the day for myself. I really was. For the next hour, I wasn’t Lily Gardner, floundering pianist. I was Lily Gardner, rebel.

I grinned. I liked that. Rebel. Me. Hah! But it felt good.

I walked faster, my heart starting to pump with excitement. I could almost smell the flowers and feel the grass under my feet. I’d take off my shoes when I got there and show the world my toes. Running now, I rounded the corner, then I heard Rafe’s voice.

I stopped dead, the hair on the back of my neck prickling. The sound was coming from an open window on the first floor. Anticipation whirling through me, I picked my way around the well-manicured bushes beneath the window and hid beneath the sill to listen.

I could hear Rafe and Angel talking. There were a couple other voices, all guys. They were arguing about something, but I couldn’t tell what. I let Rafe’s deep voice drift over me and chase all the Crusty-poison out of my system.

This was better than the garden by myself. With my eyes closed, I could almost pretend I was in there with them, hanging out, as if we were all friends, as if my world included athletic guys with full-arm tattoos. I leaned back against the wall, just starting to get comfortable, when I heard them mention something about a keyboard.

A keyboard! That was my kind of instrument! I couldn’t resist. I set my backpack on the ground and carefully peeked over the windowsill.

Rafe was sitting behind a set of drums, Angel had an electric guitar slung over her shoulder and two other guys dressed in jeans and tee shirts had their backs to me. One of the guys was tuning an electric guitar, and the other had a microphone in his hand. An unattended electric keyboard was sitting in the corner.

Were they like a band or something? I bet they didn’t have to play Bach or Mozart.

After a couple minutes, I realized they were arguing about whether to start without the missing keyboard player. Rafe was insistent they should wait, and Angel was complaining that Paige was always late and she was tired of it.