Beautiful Musician (3 page)

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Authors: Sheri Whitefeather

Tags: #coming of age, #new adult, #novella romance, #music and love

BOOK: Beautiful Musician
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We stayed like that for hours, sitting
on the floor, listening to music and becoming friends.

When it was time for me to leave, I
promised her that I would come back and visit as often as I
could.

After I disappeared and walked across
the border and into the land of 105, I was thrust into a peculiar
world. I quickly learned that 105 could be light and airy or dark
and ominous.

My first experience was frazzled in
fear. I sensed the border monsters watching me. I couldn’t see
them, but I knew they were there, hiding under boulders, their red
eyes peering into the night. What Abby said was true: someday they
were going to try to hurt me.

And now, all these years later, the
threat was getting closer, along with the ache of being separated
from Abby.

Chapter Four

 

After breakfast, Abby and I put Dingo
back in her room. Then we went to the nurses’ station, where she
was given her meds. Some patients were permitted to take their
medication without supervision, but Abby wasn’t one of
them.

I tagged around with her all day, but
she didn’t let on that I was there. At the moment, we were in a
cooking class, and Abby’s group was making chocolate chip
cookies.

She lingered, watching instead of
participating. As usual, no one paid her any mind. The other
students were too focused on the lesson to care about what Abby was
doing, and the instructor was letting her stay in her comfort
zone.

I decided that I should put a stop to
Abby relying on me so much, so I walked away and stood in the back
of the room. She wasn’t pleased that I left her side. She kept
looking over her shoulder at me.

I shot her a little wave of
encouragement, and she relaxed a bit. Still, she kept shifting her
feet and rocking back and forth. I could tell that all she wanted
was for the class to end.

I thought the chocolate chip batter
looked mighty tasty. I wouldn’t have minded pitching in. Soon the
cookies would be going into the oven, scenting the air with a
home-baked aroma, the kind of sweetness I missed out on by not
having a home.

As a boy, I lived like an orphan on
the streets, hanging out in the back alleys of 105, immersed in the
stench of garbage and liquor. On occasion I would charm my way into
the backdoor of a bakery and let the owner take pity on my poor,
hungry soul. Mostly I resorted to stealing. I never told Abby how
tough my young life had been. It was easier to keep that stuff to
myself.


You stink,” I heard a
voice say from behind me.

Fuck. I turned around, knowing it was
Face. He was another of Abby’s people. He wasn’t a whole person,
though. Basically, he was just a huge round head, sans hair, with
nondescript features and long, tapered hands attached to his chin.
His purpose in life was to scold you when you did something stupid.
But sometimes he just poked fun at you for the hell of
it.


Screw you,” I said to
him.

Face made a tsk-tsk sound. That was
his signature noise. “You reminded Abby to shower today, but you
never took one yourself. Like I said, Seven. You stink.”

I didn’t smell from missing one measly
shower. Did I? I almost sniffed my armpits to be sure, but I
decided not to give Face the satisfaction of knowing that he’d made
me question my hygiene.

I squinted at him. He bounced around,
keeping himself afloat and using his hands like wings. He was a
weird-looking duck. I’d always thought of him as a cross between
Mr. Potato Head and Humpty Dumpty, but without Mrs. Potato Head or
all the king’s men.


Go pester someone else,”
I said.


No one can see me except
you and Abby.”

He had a point. “Then go take a nap
with Dingo. He can see you.”


Don’t be an idiot. How is
he going to see me if he’s asleep?”

He had another point. “Then go find
Bud.” He was another of Abby’s people.


Bud’s busy, you moron.”
Face motioned to the other side of the room.

Sure enough, there was Bud, behaving
as if he was scouting the kitchen classroom for his next location.
In Room 105, Bud was a movie director who smoked cheap cigars and
idolized Alfred Hitchcock and Carlo Ponti. He actually looked a bit
like the two of them: short, fat, and partially bald. But that was
where the similarities ended. His work would never compare to
theirs, nor did he speak with a British or Italian accent. He
talked like he was from the Bronx, even though he’d never been to
New York. He also had this ridiculous habit of mispronouncing the
word people, saying “papple” instead. He looked about sixty, but in
schizophrenic years, he was immortal.

I understood why Abby had created me
and Dingo, but Face and Bud? The only thing I could figure was that
Face represented the jerks in the outside world who bullied Abby
when she was little, and Bud was there to direct the
craziness.

I turned back to Face and saw that he
was flipping me off. Christ almighty.


You’re a dickwad,” I
said. “Oh, no, wait.” I gave him the once-over. “You don’t even
have a dick.”


Ha. Ha.” He rolled his
eyes. He loved this type of banter. “I heard that it’s movie night
tonight.”


Who told you
that?”


Bud. He said the patients
gather in the rec room and watch a DVD the staff chose for them.”
He went deadpan. “Do you think they’ll be showing
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s
Nest
?”

I bit back a laugh. “Don’t be an
ass.”


Okay, then how
about
Psycho
?
Or
American Psycho
?
Shutter Island
might be a good one, too.”


Knock it off.” I was
going to lose it for sure.


Running with
Scissors
?”


Shut up.”


Donnie
Darko
?”


You’re not
funny.”


Silence of the
Lambs?


No more.” I shoved him
away.

But it didn’t work. He flew straight
at me, and we started bitch slapping each other like a couple of
kids.

Abby spun around, and we quit acting
up. I smiled at her, hoping that she would be interested in movie
night. Because now that my foolishness with Face was over, I was in
the mood for some true entertainment. A light comedy. A
romance.

Something soft and nice that I could
enjoy with Abby.

Chapter Five

 

Abby agreed to movie
night. We’d learned that
Back to the
Future
was the show they’d be playing.
We’d both seen it before on cable, but it was the kind of classic
you could watch again and again. Plus it was from the eighties, and
that was right up my alley.

I convinced Abby to change into a
pretty outfit. She didn’t know what to choose, so I thumbed through
her closet and found a white sundress trimmed in blue ribbon that
matched her eyes.

She didn’t change in front of me. She
went into the bathroom.

Face, Bud, and Dingo were gone. They’d
returned to 105 for the evening. I was glad to be rid of Face. I
didn’t need him ruining the ambience. I wanted this to seem like a
date, or as close to one as Abby and I could get.

She came out of the bathroom, glowing
like a teen angel. She’d even fluffed her hair and put on a
smattering of lipstick.


You look gorgeous,” I
said.


Thank you.” She gnawed on
her bottom lip. The sparkly pink color she’d applied wasn’t going
to last long.


I need to get spruced up
now.” I was going to take a shower and throw on a nice shirt with
my jeans and boots. No way was I going to risk smelling bad. “Wait
for me.”


Okay.” She sat on the
edge of the bed and folded her hands on her lap. All she needed was
a pair of white gloves to look as innocent as she was.

I knew that Abby had never been
kissed. I longed to be the guy who put his mouth against hers, who
tasted her crazy goodness.

I took my turn in the bathroom. I even
slapped on some cologne after my shower. I got dressed and returned
to my girl.

She was still sitting in the same spot
where I’d left her. She glanced up. By now her lipstick was all
gone. I wish I’d been able to kiss it away.


How are we going to sit
next to each other at the movie?” she asked. “No one is going to
leave an empty spot for you.”

Damn. I hadn’t thought of that. I
considered a remedy, a daring alternative. “We could use the same
chair.”


How are we going to do
that?”


You could sit on my
lap.”

Her breath caught.

I backpedalled. “Unless you don’t want
to.”


No, I do. I’m
just…”


What?”


A little
nervous.”

Of being that close to each other, I
thought. “I know. Me, too. But I’d still like to try
it.”


So would I.”

I reached for her hand. If we were
going to treat this like a date, then some good old-fashioned
handholding was in order. Our interlocked fingers felt incredibly
nice.

Secure. Warm and gentle.

Hand in hand, we went to the rec room,
where they’d lined up a bunch of folding chairs in front of a giant
flat screen TV. Already the place was filling up.


Let’s sit in the back,” I
whispered in her ear.

She nodded, and we proceeded to the
very last row and took an end seat. I plopped down first, my heart
beating triple time.

Abby sucked in her breath. Her nerves
were showing. I gazed at her with anticipation. Then I smiled. It
had always been my method of keeping her calm, of solidifying the
bond between us.

She took the plunge and scooted onto
my lap. She was stiff and shy at first, but after I slipped my arms
around her waist, she melted against me like buttercream frosting.
I imagined her with little sprinkles on top, her confetti-dotted
colors spinning around my heart.

An orderly came by and handed out
cartons of popcorn. Abby accepted one for us. Once the rec room was
full and everyone settled down, the movie started.

As intimate as being this close to
Abby was, I kept my libido in check. I didn’t get a hard-on, even
when she moved around to get more comfortable. I was determined to
make our first date as respectful as two people wedged in the same
chair could be.

She ate most of the popcorn. From time
to time, I reached around to grab a few handfuls. She made sure
that her head didn’t block my view.

We were good together.

So very good.

My favorite scene was when Michael J.
Fox went into the heavy metal riff at the dance and everyone
stopped and stared at him as if he was from another
planet.

Abby had lots of favorite scenes. She
laughed at the funny parts and sighed over the romance: the McFly
dad winning over the mom when they were teens.

I hoped that I was winning Abby over
in the same tender way. As the credits rolled, I took a chance and
kissed the side of her neck.

She shivered deliciously in my arms.
She nearly dropped her empty popcorn carton, too.

Boom!

The lights came back on, and she
jumped up and smoothed her dress. Abby hardly ever fixed her
clothes. I stood and righted myself, as well. You’d think that we’d
been making out hard and heavy, with the freaked-out way we were
behaving.

Abby dashed into the hallway, and I
zoomed after her. For now, we were the only ones who’d left the rec
room.


I wish the garden was
open,” she said.

The garden was her favorite location
at The Manor. “Me, too.” I needed a gust of air. A breeze. A
cleansing of my lungs. “You okay?”

She nodded. “Except for the way you
made me feel. I could’ve rubbed myself all over you,
Seven.”

Holy hell. Now I was going to get a
boner. Either that or I was going to howl werewolf-style at the
moon. If only we could go outside. Anything to escape my hunger for
her.

I cleared my throat. “I better get you
tucked into bed.”


Are you going to join
me?” she asked, with expectation in her eyes.


No,” I replied, afraid
that I would take it too far. “I’m tucking you in
alone.”

Chapter Six

 

Once we were in her room, the
awkwardness set in. Not that it wasn’t already there from before,
but it was worse now.


Go get your pajamas on,”
I said.


I don’t want to.” She
sounded like a stubborn child.


Are you mad at
me?”

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