“I just did.” She pauses. “For you.”
“Not for me. You should play it for someone else. Anyone else.”
“I can’t, Nonni. Someday… maybe.”
“Someday will be here before you know it, Ginny. Eventually we all run out of tomorrows.”
True story, Nonni.
“I know. I’m just not ready. It’s not ready, it needs more work.” Her voice is so soft, I wonder if she’s crying. “The second verse is still shaky.”
The second verse was tight.
“And there’s something off with the bridge.”
It was perfect.
The mood has changed drastically, her raucous, bouncing laughter from earlier gone now. The girl who was here yesterday was electric. Fierce. The girl I picture now is fragile and softaround the edges. I want the ringing laughter that cleared my head and made me forget.
Playing my guitar has always made me feel free. Playing hers seems to be making her crazy. That song was perfection—what could possibly stop her from playing it for someone? It can be fixed, whatever it is. People underestimate how many things are capable of being fixed. There are so few things in life that are actually final. Just death. And I’m pretty sure she isn’t dying.
Conflicts: Stage fright?
“It will never be perfect,” Nonni says. “You just need to get out there. Take some risks. It’s your senior year, Ginny. Have fun.”
“Nonni—”
“Shush. I know you think you’ll have time for everything later. And you will. But I want you to do things now. I want you to put yourself out there.” There’s a long moment of silence. I can hear everyone breathing and I swear they must be able to hear me, too. Every muscle in my body is tensed. I’m afraid to make the slightest movement.
“I want that too. I—I wish I could, but—”
Evelyn doesn’t let her finish. “I want you to do something for me.” Her voice is pleading. “Will you?”
“Of course. What is it?”
“I want you to promise me.” Evelyn’s voice is firm, determined.
“Sure. Yes, of course I will.” She sounds nervous, filled with anticipation.
“I want you to say yes.”
I have no idea what she means, and it seems that Ginny is just as confused, because the room is silent.
“Say yes to what exactly?” Ginny asks.
“To everything. To anything.”
Silence.
“Unless you’ll end up dead or on a MISSING poster, I want you to say yes.” There’s another long silence, and I hold my breath, waiting. “You’re a smart girl, you’ll know the right choice. The world won’t fall apart if you make a mistake.”
“Nonni—”
“I want you to do this for me.” Ginny doesn’t say anything. I wish I were one of those people who could swim the length of a pool underwater. All I can hear is my breathing. “Do it for your old, dying grandmother.”
Boom.Just like that Evelyn goes nuclear. Old people love to play the I-won’t-be-around-forever card. It trumps everything. There’s a long silence and I’m starting to think maybe Ginny left.
“Fine.” Her voice is strained, like she’s been asked to put her hand in a blender, but is still trying to sound happy about it.
