Page 8 of Play Me

I press myself against the door and close my eyes, counting my breaths. Deep breath in two, three, four, five. Hold. Out two, three, four, five. I feel my ribcage expand and stretch from the air. My hands feel the urge to scratch at my skin and I shove them in my pockets.

My right hand digs deep and closes around a cube object. It’s the box of rosin. The rosin I stole from that girl. The girl in the store. Cadence. My mouth twitches a little as I remember the way her eyes rounded into large, perfect circles, the pupils like a Belgium chocolate truffle, soft brown and velvety, when I brushed her cheek with my lips. Her mouth shaped into a seductive ‘O’, in both sound and structure. Sending my body and mind into hormonal overdrive as I imagine her lips making that same shape while she experienced an ‘O’ of my making.

“Fuck.” I shake my head to reset my brain’s thoughts. What is wrong with me? Why has she taken such a hold of me?

“What?” Jez looks up in response to my curse.

“Nothing.”

“He’s thinking of a ‘visitor’.”

I wasn’t. But I am now. Thinking of opening the door to my dressing room and finding Cadence standing there. Even if just to yell at me for being a damn jerk again. I’d take it. I’d promised her I’d make it up to her. And I can’t wait for the night to be over so I can fulfill that promise.

Just got. To get through. The night.

“Hey, what time is it now?” I ask the boys and they groan in synchrony.

“What?!?”

CADENCE

“You’re not wearing that.” Sarah greets me as soon as I open the door.

“What? Why? I think I look fine.” I look down at my floor-length floral maxi dress and pink cardigan.

“You do, babe. You look fine. For church. Not a concert.”

“A classical music concert!” I remind her.

“Mashed with ROCK!”

“Ugh, stop reminding me.”

“Come on.” She grabs my hand and pulls me into my bedroom.

“Where are we going?”

“Into the deepest corners of your closet to find something appropriate for you to wear.”

***

“I look ridiculous.” I tell her ten minutes later sitting in her car. My floral dress has been discarded and in its place is a short black mini I bought on a whim once but have never had the courage to wear. After some begging, Sarah relented and allowed me to pull on the pink cardigan though.

“Only because you keep fidgeting.” She reaches over and slaps my hands away from my cardigan’s collar.

“We’re going to stand right out.” I scrunch my face up at the thought.

“So what if we do?” She shrugs nonchalantly. “But trust me, we’re going to fit right it.”

“You’re crazy. We’re going to be the only ones dressed like this.”

She turns into the parking lot and waits for the crowd of people crossing to get to the concert hall. A startling array of leather and Mohawks and motorcycle boots greet me.

“Oh. Never mind.” I concede.

Sarah throws her head back and laughs. “I told you.”

“Curiouser and curiouser.”