Authors: Kiki Hamilton
The Last Dance (12 page)
Somebody rolled a window down and I heard them giggling. Suddenly Tank yelled, “kiss her!”
Before Brandon could see me blush he leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine. I pressed back. So this is kissing, I thought. Big deal. Then it was over.
Glen started honking the horn and Brandon stepped back, looking pleased with himself. On the other side of the door, I could hear my father’s measured footsteps approach. I widened my eyes at Brandon and he stepped away.
“Okay, see you later,” I said, just as my father opened the front door.
“Ivy, what’s all the commotion out here? It’s after midnight. The neighbors are trying to sleep.”
“Hello Mr. Ly.” Brandon reached forward and shook my father’s hand. “Thanks for letting Ivy come out with me tonight.”
“Oh, hello Brandon.” My father gave him a little half-bow. He was old-school—some things never change. At least Brandon totally got it. “Be careful driving home.”
“Yes, sir.” Brandon grinned at me and then ran back to the car.
“Bye Ivy,” Mira called out the window, waving.
I rested my hand on the knob of the front door and waved back. She was probably more excited about my first kiss than I was. At least they’d had enough sense to stop honking the horn.
I
got to fifth period early on Monday, before Ivy arrived. I’d spent a lot of time working on the piano lately, struggling to read the notes on the page, to get my fingers to go where my brain told them to go. But things actually seemed to be improving.
I pulled the intermediate piano book I was working from out of my backpack and stood it up on the stand. It always took a few minutes for the fingers on my right hand to warm up so I started working on a simple C scale. Though I had taken piano lessons for four years when I was younger, I hadn’t played once in the three years since I’d quit. Now after my brain injury, I wasn’t sure there was anything left to remember.
After a few minutes my fingers felt looser so I started the song on the page. I played just my left hand for a few measures, trying to get the rhythm of the repeating phrases so I wouldn’t have to think so much about that hand when I tried to add in the right hand.
It took a few minutes before I got a nice rhythm going with my left hand but every time I tried to come in with my right hand, I got jumbled up.
“Dammit.” I swore under my breath, my shoulders starting to tense up.
“Here.”
Ivy’s voice was so close to my ear I jumped. “Shit.” I faked a cough and cleared my throat. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were back there.”
She smiled at me—soft and—different.
“I can be sneaky like that sometimes. I get it from my mother.” She leaned close to my right side and placed her small hand on top of my right hand. “Let me help you.” Her long dark hair slid off her right shoulder as she moved and the fragrant scent of plumeria wafted around my head. Fifth period was definitely the best part of my day.
She pressed down on my spastic fingers to make them play the keys. She didn’t even seem to notice that they were so messed up.
“Keep your fingers relaxed and your wrists straight. You don’t have to rush.” With her help, suddenly the notes sounded like music instead of torture by piano. “There.” She tilted her head to look at me. “Can you feel the difference?”
She was so close I could see how perfect her skin was and the delicate black lashes that framed her dark eyes. I wondered what she was thinking at the same time I thought about kissing her.
It was like she read my mind because all of a sudden she jerked her head back and hurried to sit in the chair. “Keep playing,” she said over her shoulder. “You’re doing great.”
I turned back to the piano, a sick feeling twisting in my gut. What the hell was I thinking? Kissing my tutor? Not only was that totally wrong and the most stupid thing I could think to do, but I knew she had a boyfriend.
Self-loathing was my new best friend. Two months ago I probably could have dated any girl in this school. Now I probably couldn’t get a date—and to make matters worse—I wanted to hit on my tutor, the one person I should probably never date. God, I was such a loser.
W
hen I got home from school I went directly to my room. I flopped on my back onto the bed and left my feet hanging over the edge. I put one of the orange throw pillows over my face and screamed “HOLY CHICKEN HEAD” into it. What was wrong with me? This afternoon in fifth period, when I was helping Q play the treble notes with his right hand, I had thought about kissing him. KISSING HIM!
I groaned in utter mortification. The truth was I had
wanted
to kiss him. But I was his tutor! Tutor’s don’t kiss their students. Even if they are the most beautiful ex-football playing boys that have ever walked the face of the earth. That’s like sexual harassment or something. I’d probably get arrested if anybody knew, not to mention that I sort-of have a boyfriend and the very most important part: Q WAS MY BEST FRIEND’S
OBSESSION.
“Ivy?” I jerked the pillow off my face at the sound of my mother’s voice. Sneaky, that woman. Her head was poked around the corner of the door jamb and she was staring at me with a confused frown. “Is everything all right? I thought I heard you scream.”
“No— I mean yeah—Ma. Everything’s fine. I was … er…singing.”
My mom scrunched her eyebrows like she didn’t believe me.
“What are you doing home?”
She brushed a wave of gray-streaked hair off her forehead. “We had a furlough day at work today. Don’t forget Dr. Cobbs wants you to start working on the Christmas pieces for the Youth Symphony.”
“I’ve been working on ‘em, Ma.” I pushed off the bed and went over to grab my laptop off my desk. “I’ve got some other homework to do first.” Which was totally the truth. I was putting in long hours, up until midnight every night, trying to keep up with the homework from my regular classes.
“Mrs. Chang told me that Brandon has applied to the San Francisco Conservatory of Music.” There was a disapproving note in her voice. “He could be a doctor if he wanted.” She hovered in the doorway, waiting for my reaction.
I smiled at my mother, giving no indication that I might like to apply there too. “I hope he gets in, I think he’d love it there.” The sing-song tone of an incoming Skype call rang on my laptop. “I’ve gotta get this, ma.” I clicked on “Answer with video” and Mira’s face popped up.
“Hey!” she chirped.
“Don’t forget to practice your piano,” my mother muttered as she disappeared back downstairs.
I shut my bedroom door and plunked down on my bed with my computer on my lap.
“I think Q was flirting with me in study hall today, don’t you?” Mira said as she painted her fingernails black.
“Yeah, I think he was too.” And I did. After my insane moment at the piano, Q had barely looked at me the rest of the day. Had he somehow known what I’d been thinking? Instead of staying over after school for a few minutes, like we sometimes did, he bolted right at the bell. Whatever. I was happy for Mira that she and Q were becoming such good friends. I was.
Ugh. I had to stop thinking about him. “Have you heard from Tank?” I asked.
“Oh yeah. He texts me all the time. Wants me to go to one of his gigs this weekend, but I don’t know.” She looked into the camera. “I don’t want people to think I’m his groupie or something.”
I laughed. Mira was too original to be somebody’s groupie. “I wouldn’t worry. Where’s he playing at?”
“Oh, they’ve got something going on down at The Crypt.” She paused to blow on her outstretched fingers. “But that place is a little scary.”
“Ya think?” I snorted. “They just busted some guys down there for meth a couple of weeks ago and don’t you remember last summer when somebody got stabbed in the parking lot?” I shook my head, even though she wasn’t looking at me. “That place is bad news. You’re not thinking of going, are you?”
Mira shrugged. “No, not really. What’s up with Brandon?” She disappeared from the screen and I could hear her rattling around in the background.
“He’s going to some weekend cello camp in Seattle. But it doesn’t matter because I’ve got homework anyway.” I groaned. “Tons and tons of homework. Plus I haven’t practiced near enough on my piano.” I glanced at the door to make sure it was shut. I didn’t want my mother to hear that last comment.
Mira popped back into the picture. “Q seems like he’s getting better, doesn’t he?” Now she was looking directly at me. “How much longer do you think you’ll get to tutor him?”
Mr. Decker had never given me a timeframe, probably because nobody knew how quickly he’d recover. But I could definitely see improvement. Q’s speech was better and his memory seemed to be improving.
“Probably just until he gets caught up in his classes. Maybe ‘til Christmas break. Maybe January.” I shrugged, but a little voice in the back of my head squeaked ‘or February, please’. “I don’t know. Why?”
Mira pushed her face really close to the camera and spoke in a furtive whisper. “I want to know how long I have to slip him the magic love potion.” Then she laughed and sat back, and spoke in her normal voice. “Because you know perfectly well, once he doesn’t need you anymore, he won’t be hanging out with us.”
That’s what I loved best about Mira. She just said it the way it was. Didn’t get in a big huff about anything. Like being used for your brains.
I smiled at her. “Well, if today was any indication, I’d say it’s starting to work.”
Mira took a big bite of a Twinkie and smiled at me, her teeth all full of yellow sponge cake and cream. “I knouwf.”
I stared at the blank screen for a long time after Mira disconnected. What was I doing? Mira had liked Q for over a year. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t even known she was alive until a few weeks ago. That didn’t change how she felt about him. Which meant I
couldn’t
feel that way about him. And who knows? Maybe he felt the same way about her. People change. Up until a few weeks ago I had thought all football players were stupid jocks who only cared about winning.
I thought of Brandon and how cute he was and such a good, nice person. He always had a smile on his face and worked so hard to excel in school, partly I know, just to make his parents proud. We’d been friends forever and now he
like
liked me. I couldn’t waste one more second thinking about Q and things that could never be. Besides, we weren’t really even friends. He was only around so I could help him catch up on his studies. I was his tutor, he was my student. I wouldn’t
allow
myself to think of him in other way.
T
omorrow was Thanksgiving break. I could hardly wait. Football season was officially over. The Eagles had ended with a 6-3 record. They’d made it to post-season play but been eliminated in the first game. Somehow I felt twenty pounds lighter. Well, I
was
twenty pounds lighter, but you know what I mean. A huge sense of relief filled me at not having to face the weekly games and stand on the sidelines to watch Carter play my position. Now I could focus my energy on other things.
Since my moment of insanity when I’d thought about kissing Ivy a few weeks ago I’d worked really hard to be cool around her. The last thing I needed was to freak her out and make her think I was into her as a person. Even if I did think about her way more often than was normal. What would Ivy think about this? Would Ivy like that? It was weird. She was my super-brained tutor. That was it.
“Hey Peterson, let’s go.” Ollie called to me from across the hall. Most of the kids at school treated me exactly the same as they always had. Like they thought I was cool. Maybe it was just because I was tall, but they still acted like I was the star quarterback half the time. Everybody that is, except Laurel. She was hard to figure. She’d smile at me now, in that sexy way she had, so at least she knew I was alive, but she never talked to me or made an effort to hang around my friends. She was all into Josh now. Even though he was a little rodent.
I raised my hands at Ollie. “What?” We were in the crowded hallway between third and fourth period just headed to lunch.
“Let’s ditch this popsicle stand. They’re not gonna miss us for three periods.” He motioned for me with his hand. “C’mon.”
I hesitated. I wouldn’t see Ivy in fourth period but I felt like I should let her know I wasn’t going to be there for piano and study hall. And to tell her to have a nice holiday.
“Dude.” CJ appeared at my elbow. He must have been behind me in the hall. “What is the holdup? Let’s go now while we can get out without being seen.”
“I should let Ivy know I’m leaving.”
CJ tilted his head back and made a face. “What is she? Your mommy?”
“No, but—”
He grabbed my arm and started shoving me through the crowd. “Text her, man. She’ll get the message.”
‘Yeah, okay.” We ditched our books in our lockers and headed out the back door of Hall Four to the side parking lot where Ollie had his black Nissan parked. It felt great to be sneaking out. Like I was normal again.
CJ climbed in the back, since I had the gimp leg and all, and I rode in the front with Ollie. As soon as I sat down I pulled my phone out to text Ivy.
“What? You got the hots for this girl or somethin’?” CJ asked. He was sitting forward with his head between the two front seats. “Cuz you’re sure acting like you’re whipped.”
Ollie laughed as he fired up the engine. “I thought Peterson was still hung up on Laurel Simmons.” The music immediately started blasting, the low bass notes pounding out a rhythm that shook the car. “I heard she and Josh are on the outs,” he yelled over the music.
“Dude, turn it down, would ya?” I stared at my phone, suddenly realizing I didn’t have Ivy’s cell number. Shit. How had I not thought to ask her for it after all this time?
“It’s okay, Kell.” CJ laughed and punched Ollie in the shoulder. “I get where you’re coming from. Your tutor’s pretty fine to look at. It’s just all those brains that would scare me.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” I scrolled through my contacts list. CJ might be a standout wide receiver but academics were never his interest. He lived to play ball. Suddenly I stopped in the M’s. I had Mira’s number. She’d given it to me in study hall the first time I’d met her. I could still remember what she said when she handed me the slip of paper:
‘In case you need somebody to talk to.’
I’d smiled and said ‘okay, thanks’ at the time. Like I’d call goofy Mira if I needed someone to talk to. But right now, I was really glad I had her number.