“Who let you in?”
And how long has he been there, watching and listening me butcher the songs I’ve supposed to have perfected by now?
“How long have you been there?”
“Since Pachelbel.”
That was an hour ago!
How did I not notice him coming in?
"You play like you're all in a world of your own."
I bite my lip hard to keep myself from showing any reaction. It’s almost as if he’s read my mind, and even more incomprehensibly, he seems to understand exactly how I feel when I’m playing. How is that possible when he’s a complete stranger while Sandy and I have been dating for years, and yet he still—
Don't compare, Nicole.
I'm already shooing the horrible thought away even before my conscience is done rebuking me. Comparisons lead to discontentment. That's one of the first things I learned since I found out that my mom...
My mom who killed herself.
I start shoving my things back into my bag the moment I find myself thinking of...that.
Sheet music. Pencil. And—wait, where’s my phone? It should be around here—
"Is everything okay?"
I nearly jump back, once again so lost in my own world, only this time it’s not the good kind to be lost in, that I didn’t notice him approaching until he’s right there next to me, standing so close that his words drift into my ear like something terriblybeautifulforbidden.
“Um, yeah, everything’s fine.”
I mutter the words without looking up.
"If you're leaving because of me—"
I shake my head. "It's not you."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
"Then go out on a date with me."
For a full second, my brain just doesn't process the sentence.
Did he just—
I can’t believe he just—
Or maybe I just heard him wrong?
I finally look up and look at him without really seeing him. Tall. Dark-haired. And...notSandy. That’s all that matters. He’s not Sandy, and since he seems to be waiting for an answer still—
I shake my head. "I'm sorry. I'm already dating someone."
And then I force myself to turn and walk away—
Aargh!