Why was this guy hanging around so much? Didn’t he have a party to get back to? I wasn’t ready to go back inside. I needed to sit alone until I got my head screwed back on straight.
“Um… I think I need to sit out here for a little bit.”
“There are some benches closer to the house. You can listen to the music there.”
The calm music might be what I needed right now. I looked toward the house to see if I could spot the benches he was talking about. When he saw me looking around the courtyard, he raised his arm and pointed to where they were.
“They’re right over there, just below the steps,” he said. “That’s where I was headed when I spotted you.”
Oh.
“Would you like to join me?” he asked. He just might be able to keep me distracted enough so I didn’t let my mind focus on Roger.
I nodded, and he smiled at me. I walked with him to the bench and sat beside him. We sat quietly for a few minutes while I fought to get Roger out of my head. I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees and stared at the ground. I closed my eyes and tried to picture some of the musicians I’d seen in downtown L.A.
The more I thought about it, I realized I’d gone downtown to escape. After Roger would drop me off at school, I’d spend time in the bathroom, and sometimes I would leave campus and hop on the bus going downtown. I’d sit all day and listen to the musicians.
I seriously wasn’t okay right now.
“Do you have a favorite instrument?” he asked.
I shook my head and answered, “No.”
Despite not wanting to talk much, I was glad there was someone to talk nonsense to me and try to keep my mind off Roger.
“Do you play instruments?” he asked.
“No.” I shook my head.Don’t be rude.“Do you?” I asked.That sounded obnoxious. “I mean, do you play any instruments?”
“I play piano some,” the man replied.
I opened my eyes and stared at the brick.
“That’s cool. Did you learn to play on a piano or a keyboard?” I asked. I could picture the lady from downtown whom I’d seen playing the keyboard a few times. I turned my head so I could look at him as he spoke.
“We had a piano growing up. My mother insisted that I learn to play,” he said.
As I became more aware of my body language, I sat up straight and looked at the house.
“There was this lady who played the keyboard downtown. She had a small speaker and would put a vase with flowers on it. Like she was decorating a small music studio or something. She’d wear those long multi-colored skirts and a tank top. Each time I saw her she had different colored hair.”
“Were the colors typical colors?” he asked.
I could picture the bright green and pink shades.
“No, not at all. She’d have pink and neon green. Orange this past October,” I said.
The man beside me laughed, which made me smile.
“Sounds like a bit of a free spirit,” he said.
“Yeaaa—sss.” I was glad I had my head mostly in the right place to catch myself from sayingyeahinstead ofyes. I swallowed hard and winced because the pre-cum taste was still there. “Yes, definitely a free spirit,” I said.
I was still somewhat raw and feeling weird from remembering things I’d effectively blocked out until now. It made me boldly say, “Something like that probably wouldn’t fly here.” When he hadn’t said anything right away, I clarified my comment. “I meant, that it wouldn’t fly at Omnia Academy.”
The man turned his head to look at me, and after a moment he asked, “Do you mean the pink hair or the free spirit?”
“Definitely not the pink hair. But probably not the free spirit either.”
