He skimmed the sheet music for Ma’s favorite song and played it in one go, like he hardly gave it a second thought. Seph didn’t seem to care at all that Kayla and I were watching him with his guitar. Playing in front of people doesn’t come easily for me anymore.
My palms slam on the keys when I see someone’s silhouette peeking from the curtains.
“Why’d you stop?” Seph says when he emerges from the shadows.
I try to look unfazed even though my heart’s still racing. “Did Auntie Baby never teach you manners?”
Seph ignores that and slides next to me on the bench. “I haven’t heard you play since we were rehearsing the ‘Soaring’ song.”
When I shoot him a confused look, he starts playing the opening riff to “Breaking Free.”
I laugh. “How are you so bad at remembering song titles?”
“Never stopped me from remembering the lyrics.” He taps his temple and continues playing. “We’re soaring, flying…”
Seph pauses singing and turns to me.
“There’s not a star in heaven that we can’t reach,” I recite, completely monotone.
His shoulder bumps me. “See? Your pitch got even better.”
I roll my eyes while Seph tells me to take over.
“No.”
“Come on. Please,” he keeps urging. “That bit I heard was so good.”
For the record, I’m mortified and incredibly pissed that Seph spied on me playing. But still. Part of me wants to know.
“You thought I was good?” I ask.
His eyes crinkle when he smiles up at me. “I’ll let you know if you play again.”
“Never mind.” I groan and unfold the cloth cover back on top of the keyboard.
“Why don’t you perform anymore?” he asks.
“Never liked it.”
“Bullshit,” Seph calls me out. “You loved it.”
I shrug. “I don’t think theater was ever for me. And I’ve been busy.”
“With what?”
My head turns in his direction. “For your information, I have a very packed academic schedule.”
I take my laptop out of my bag and place it on top of the keyboard controls to prove my point. “I was working on a big paper before you interrupted.”
“Looks like you’re making great progress,” he comments, sounding weirdly amused.
When I look back, I see my computer opened to my working document of nicknames I have for Dr. Derrick. The doc is labeledAn Ode to a Pervy Dentist.
“It’s a… creative assignment.”
“Here.” He swivels the laptop toward him and starts typing.
Beneath my entryDerrick the Human Root Canal, Seph writes,Derrick the Oral Overlord.
