Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 124135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 621(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 621(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
I was about to snap at her. To tell her to get lost like I did to anyone who challenged me on what I was feeling. But when her brown eyes fixed on me and I saw the concern on her face, all the fight drained away. “Don’t…” I whispered, my voice sounding way too loud in the quiet car. “Please…just leave it alone.”
Bonnie’s eyes shimmered. She nodded. Her hands fell to the wheel, but before she pulled out of the parking spot, she said, “Just tell me you’re okay.” She didn’t look at me. She kept her attention straight ahead. “I just need to know you’re okay.”
My leg bounced as her words cut through me. Because she sounded like she meant it. The crack in her voice…the shade of lavender that surrounded her told me she meant every word. “Yeah,” I said, and her shoulders relaxed. The truth was, I was anything but okay. But that tether inside of me that kept everyone away pulled tight, straining on my throat to keep it the hell shut.
It was on the tightest leash whenever I was around Bonnie.
She smiled, and the leash momentarily slackened. But as she pulled out of the campus in silence, it gradually brought me back to heel.
When we arrived at Jefferson Coffee, we sat at what was looking more and more like Bonnie’s usual table. Sam, the guy from before, came with the drinks. “I assumed it was the same as before,” he said, pouring me a strong black coffee.
When he walked away, I looked at Bonnie across the table. She had been staring at me. Ducking her eyes, she got out her folder. She opened it and put a sheet of music before me. She seemed embarrassed. “I…I had some thoughts on the beginning of the composition. I’ve had this in my head for a while.” She nervously took a sip of her coffee. “I know we don’t have a theme or anything yet, but I thought I’d show you this.”
I glanced down at the music and read it. My eyes scanned the notes. I didn’t say anything.
“You hate it.”
I lifted my eyes to Bonnie. I didn’t hate it. It was just…nothing special. The colors didn’t flow. Like if you saw a generic painting hanging on a wall somewhere. It was good but nothing life-changing.
I decided not to speak at all. If I did, I’d only upset her. My jaw clenched in annoyance when I realized I didn’t want to see her upset. The girl was messing with my head.
I stretched my arms over my head. I saw her watching. When I met her eyes, she moved them down to the music. “Is it awful?”
“Not awful.”
“But not good either,” Bonnie said knowingly and sat back in her seat. She looked dejected. Her mouth opened, like she wanted to say something. I knew it would be about Friday night. The anger that usually controlled me began to rise in anticipation. She must have seen something in my face, as she said, “Cromwell, I think we should go to Lewis and ask for new partners. This”—she pointed between us—“isn’t working.” She kept her eyes down. “We’re not on the same page when it comes to music.” Her finger traced a vein of wood on the table. “Are…” She swallowed. “Are you still only wanting to contribute using electronic, or have you changed your mind?” I closed my eyes and took a deep inhale. I had asked her not to go there.
I couldn’t fucking go there.
And she was right. We weren’t well suited. Our tastes were different. I wouldn’t go down the classical route. Yet even knowing that, the thought of her partnering with someone else, someone like Bryce, had every cell inside me fighting back. “There’s no switching.”
The fight left Bonnie, and she leaned forward. “Then help me.” She ran her hand over her forehead. She looked tired. A deep breath followed. “Again, do you still only wanna do your side electronically?”
“Yes,” I said through gritted teeth.
I saw the disappointment settle in her eyes. “Cromwell…” She shook her head. “The way you can play…” She reached out over the table and ran her fingers over mine. Her fingers were so soft. Her voice was quiet. Soothing. Sad. “I don’t know why you won’t play. But what I heard the other night…” Tears welled in her eyes. She put her free hand over her heart. “It moved me. So much.” My heart beat out of control. I couldn’t calm it down with her touching me. With her telling me how my music made her feel. I saw her. I saw the hope in her pretty face. Hope that I’d talk to her. That I’d say yes to composing with orchestral instruments.
Then my father’s face flashed into my head, and I frosted over like a branch of a tree when a snowstorm hit. Anger infused my muscles and I ripped my hand back, rolling my tongue ring just to keep from exploding. “Not happening.”