I tap the bass pedal a few times and twirl the stick in my right hand while I think. There’s a song that’s been writing itself the past few weeks and begging me to pay attention. Without giving it too much thought, I start playing and take these few minutes of freedom to see where it goes. I’m limited, with only a single bass pedal, but I don’t let that stop me. It’s the first time in so long that I’ve played without pressure or expectations hanging over me. I forgot how good this feels, playing for the love of it and nothing else.
Cymbal still shimmering as it fades, I spin on the stool to face Benji.
Four sets of eyes meet mine.
All unblinking.
Benji, Jess, and Lola look shocked. And Soph looks like she did when I went down on her last night.
“Someone’s leveled up.Holy shit,” Jess says.
“I think you just found your Obi-Wan, Padawan,” Lola says to Benji, and he nods.
I hand Benji his sticks. “I think this’ll work, but play me something you’re working on with your band. I’ve never played jazz, so we’ll figure it out together.”
He nods and then asks, “Can you give me some tips? Like if I’m doing something wrong, can you show me how to do it the right way?” as he takes a seat and adjusts the stool’s height.
“Sure.”
I stand directly behind him so I can see over his shoulder. The room is small and space is limited, but I use my height to my advantage.
Lola yells, “Whoo! Benji!” like she’s in the crowd at a stadium show.
Benji shakes his head. As a teenage boy, I know she embarrasses him, but I also know he’ll look back on this in ten years and realize how lucky he was to have a cheerleader. My mom was the same way.
I let him play for a minute and observe. He uses traditional grip like a true jazz drummer, and it makes me smile.
I lean down so I’m closer to his ear. “Loosen up. Relax.”
I can tell he’s trying, but he’s so stiff. Maybe having an audience is making him nervous.
“Stop if you need to and take a few deep breaths. It’ll help.”
He does.
“Close your eyes. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Fill your lungs completely and then let it all out.”
I watch his shoulders rise and fall a few times. “Good. Now shake your arms out from your shoulders to your wrists.”
He does, but it’s restrained.
“More. Your bones are liquid. Shake ’em out.”
“You should do guided meditation, Ever.” When I glance back, Lola’s eyes are closed, and she’s following along.
“I think I finally get it, Lo,” Soph whispers. Her eyes are closed too.
Smiling, I return to Benji. “One last deep breath and then forget we’re here and don’t worry about making mistakes. Just have fun.”
I step back and stand next to Soph.
And I watch.
A kid.
Be a kid.
And the kid in me.
