“Well, it’s a great place full of great people.”Katelyn glances my way before she looks back at Jack.
The fact that she looked at me at all brings me more joy than I’ve had in a long, long time.Those walls she’s had up nearly every day are gone, and I can only hope they stay that way.
“Okay, back!”Anastasia announces as she steps into the light, a violin case in her hand.Because, of course, she brought it.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I groan as Anastasia hands it to me.
“It’s been so long.Besides, it’s tradition.Campfire equals music.”
“So get Weston’s guitar.”
“I don’t have a key to Weston’s house.”
“And you never will,” Weston retorts.
Anastasia sticks her tongue out at him, then turns to me.
“You play violin?”Katelyn asks me.
“I do.It was my aunt’s favorite instrument.I learned it for her birthday one year.”
“Yeah, yeah, Demo’s a great guy.Super talented.Now play,” Sawyer says.
“Come on, Garrison, please?”Anastasia asks as she takes her seat beside Jack, who puts his arm around her shoulders and presses a kiss to her temple.
I look at Katelyn, feeling the heat building on the back of my neck.“All right.Fine.But I’m hiding this better in the future.”After unzipping the instrument case, I lift the violin and bow.As I settle it beneath my jaw, the weight is familiar and steady.
The smooth curve of the chinrest fits the hollow of my throat.My left hand slides up the neck, finding the strings.As I draw the bow, slow and careful, I work to adjust the tuning of the instrument.
The fire crackles softly as I draw the bow more intentionally now.The violin answers, and “Amazing Grace” drifts into the night, the melody carrying a story of the Lord’s mercy and redemption.
And then she starts singing.
My eyes fly open.
Katelyn’s eyes are closed, her voice steady and clear as it fills the space around us.My heart hammers in my chest as I keep playing, though I barely hear the instrument anymore.
For all I know, I miss every note.It doesn’t matter.With her singing, my attention narrows until she’s all that exists.
The others join in—everyone except Weston—but their voices fade beneath hers.
She’s all I hear.
All I see.