by H. L. Logan
“The other day, I met with an old friend from college. She was the one person who was on my level in school, the one person who was just as focused on the dream as I was. I was sure that even after we went our separate ways, she’d continue to do whatever it took to make her millions. Well, it turns out that she’s getting married, and she gave up on her business. She tells me that her priorities changed. That her fiancé became the most important thing in her life. Now she’s working for some company, on her way to an ordinary life. And you know what? I’d never seen her that happy before.”
“You say ordinary,” I said quietly. “But if she discovered what made her happy... Isn’t that extraordinary?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I’d just never before considered that anything in life could do that.”
“So, what? You gonna give up the business and search for new meaning?” I smiled at her.
“Hell, no. My business is as important to me as playing drums is for you. I could never give it up.”
“Maybe… you do need to do a little searching. Go back to the basics. Find out what really makes you happy. Then come back stronger.”
Melany looked at me, her gray eyes thoughtful. I wondered what she might be thinking about. After a few moments, she pulled out her phone to look at the time. “Oh, we should go outside. You gotta hear Kaitlyn and Brianne play, they’re really good.”
I nodded. “Sure.”
We filled our wine cups one more time, making sure to visit a different catering spot to avoid any judgement glares from the bartender, and made our way back outside. The cellist was packing away her instrument, and the audience chattered amongst themselves. Everyone was wined up and in a good mood. An older woman came up to the performance area, thanked the cellist, and took the hand microphone.
“Good evening, everyone. I hope you’re all having a good time. Our next guest is a very talented group—they don’t have a name, but if you’ve been to the Riverwalk you might’ve seen them performing. Give them a warm round of applause—”
She was cut off by Kaitlyn, who came up and whispered in her ear. The woman looked surprised and then nodded. “Okay, they’ll be up in just a couple minutes. To remind everyone, the artwork you see throughout Shadetree is produced by students of the art department at Beasley…”
Melany and I went up to Kaitlyn, who was speaking closely with a girl holding a violin, who I could only guess was her music partner.
“Everything alright, guys?” Melany asked.
“Oh, hey guys. Everything is fine,” Kaitlyn said, with a distracted smile. She turned back to Brianne. “It’s not a problem. We just play our stuff as a duet, like before. Nothing has really changed.”
“It just fucking sucks to give up the songs we’d practiced. Dammit, how embarrassing.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I found the guy, I feel responsible.”
“Anything we can do to help?” I offered. “What’s going on?”
Kaitlyn looked over at me, and then his eyes widened. “Oh, shit. I don’t want to put you on the spot, Kendra, but our drummer just bailed.”
“He was arrested for drunk driving,” Brianne chimed in grimly.
“This girl, Kendra, is a Beasley drum student,” Kaitlyn told her.
“Oh, shit,” said Brianne.
“Kendra, maybe you could step in and help us out?”
All three of them turned to look at me.
“Uhh… uhh…”
“It’d be a cinch for someone from our music program,” Brianne said. “We can improvise. Do loose versions of the songs we were going to perform.”
“What do you think?” Kaitlyn asked.
I looked to Melany, and she shrugged. “Guys, Kendra has kind of been…”
“I’ll do it,” I said.
Melany looked stunned, and then broke into a wide grin.
“Fuck, yeah,” Kaitlyn said, clapping me on the shoulder. “Oh, my God, you’re a lifesaver.”
“Thank me after I play,” I said.
6
Melany
I watched Kendra sit down behind the drum set, and my pulse started to race nervously for her. I knew that this was the first time she’d played real drums in months, and I could see the anxiety in her eyes. She looked around at the kit in front of her, like she only just realized what she’d agreed to do, and slowly picked up the sticks sitting on top of the kick drum.
“You can do this, Kendra!” I shouted. “I know you can do it!”
She looked up, saw me, and then smiled.
“Is that your girlfriend?” a girl next to me said.
“Oh, no,” I said. “No, she’s, uh…”
“A potential?”
I laughed. “Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” It was the first time I’d vocalized that desire to anyone, and it made me feel strangely warm inside. “At least, I’m hoping.”
The girl smiled and extended a hand. “Nice. I’m Margie. I’m dating Brianne, the violinist.”
“Oh, no way. Nice to meet you, Margie.” I thought about it for a moment and then chuckled. “That’s funny.”
“What is?”
“They’re all lesbians. Funny coincidence.”
“Oh. Right? Did you know that the professor who started this collective is queer too?”
“Huh. Must be something in the water here.”
We both laughed.
“Hello,” Kaitlyn said, taking the mic. “My name’s Kaitlyn, this is Brianne on the violin, and we’d both like to welcome Kendra, who we literally just recruited into the group five minutes ago. So… we should have an interesting show for you tonight.”
The crowd murmured with laughter.
“Alright, so keep on checking out that artwork, and remember, every piece is for sale. Enjoy.”
She went over to Kendra and whispered something to her. Kendra nodded and gave her a thumbs up.
You’ve got this, Kendra, I thought. Show me what you can do.
I felt the breath suck out of me like a vacuum as Kendra raised her sticks into the air to count time.
Here we go…
Tak, tak, tak, tak—
Kendra’s hands dropped into a blur. The beat exploded outwards as the sticks flurried around the drum kit, and the three of them broke into an amazing rendition of “Don’t Let Me Down” by The Beatles.
There had been a small number of people who were already watching the stage, but most were looking at the artwork or otherwise preoccupied with their own conversations. The moment the sound of Kendra’s drumming hit the air, there was a startled gasp with some laughter from the people who’d been caught off guard. As the song went on, I saw a lot of the stragglers detaching from the walls to come watch the performance. Some people started to sway with the beat, and others started to sing along, pumping their fists in the air with the chorus, half-empty cups of wine hanging in their free hands.
The expression on Kendra’s face made me laugh—her eyes were wide and she stared at her hands moving in front of her, like she couldn’t believe what she was doing.
She was absolutely fucking amazing. The drums for “Don’t Let Me Down” were fairly simple, but Kendra was adding a flair to them and making them her own. I could easily hear that same precision and variation from her street performance, but now that she was on a real drum set, now that she was home, it was sublime.
“They are really good,” I shouted to Margie.
She nodded. “Dude, Kendra is way better than the guy they’d found before. Holy shit!”
The crowd burst into applause when the song ended. I waved at Kendra, and she grinned and pointed one of her sticks at me, and a little thrill whizzed through my heart. Whoah. That does not happen often.
“Damn,” Kaitlyn said into the microphone, grinning. “It seems like the gods of rock and roll have graced us with a miracle. Kendra, do you know “Don’t Stop Me Now” by Queen?”
There were some hoots from the crowd, and then cheers
when Kendra gave a thumbs up.
“Badass,” Kaitlyn said. “Because no one can stop us now.”
As the performance went on, Kendra’s expression changed from amazed shock to calm focus. Then her eyes closed and her head tilted back, her face in an expression that transported me back to when I had her on my couch. I felt a shiver of excitement and longing for her, and it was at that moment that I knew for certain that I wanted to be with Kendra.
I noticed that people were starting to wander outside from the gallery, drawn by the music and the crowd’s cheers. What was meant to be side entertainment for the art show had suddenly become the main event, with Kendra’s explosive drums as the backbone and catalyst. People were dancing now, the crowd moving and churning. Unable to wipe the goofy-ass smile off my face, I started to move my body too.
This is ridiculous. I don’t dance.
But I couldn’t help it. I let myself go and danced along to the music.
“Thank you for letting us do another show, Professor Barley,” Kaitlyn said to the older woman who’d introduced them. We were some of the last people out of the building, a few volunteers still shuffling around with mops and brooms.
“I think we’re going to have to organize your own night here soon,” Professor Barley laughed. “So many people asked about you tonight.”
“That would be amazing,” Kaitlyn said. “But we haven’t spoken to Kendra about playing again with us. She was just filling in…”
“I’d love to play with you,” Kendra said, her face glowing. “If you’ll have me.”
“Um, yes?” said Brianne. “Are you kidding? You were amazing. That was the most fun I’ve ever had playing a performance.”
“Thank you,” Kendra said, beaming. “It felt incredible to play again.”
Kaitlyn clapped her hands together. “Well, shit. It’s settled then. We ought to exchange numbers.”
“I’ll be in contact with you all,” Professor Barley said, and turned to leave.
“Oh, Professor,” I said, stopping her.
“Yes?”
“I’d like to inquire about purchasing a piece of artwork from the show tonight…”
Soon, Kendra and I were walking out to our cars together, the painting of the tuxedoed duck all wrapped up and held firmly under my arm. I opened my trunk and slid the painting carefully inside. Kendra leaned against the back of my car, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her leather jacket. I came up next to her and leaned against the car too. There was something different about her now—she looked more confident, surer of herself.
“You were fucking amazing in there, you know? Blew me and everyone else away.”
She smiled and looked away, shyly. “Nah. I’m so rusty. I’m just happy I didn’t drop my sticks. Or let one fly into your boobs.”
We laughed. “Yeah, it’s best you don’t do that,” I said.
“Kaitlyn and Brianne are the amazing musicians. They were completely on point, and they disguised all the mistakes I made.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself,” I said. “The three of you were great. For real, I wouldn’t have known that was the first time you’d all played together. I’m not exaggerating, and you know I’ve got an ear for music.” I tapped my ear for emphasis.
“Thanks,” she said.
Our shoulders touched, and I felt the overwhelming desire to reach out and take her hand. How was it that one woman, a virtual stranger, had awoken these feelings in me? I’d never felt this way before about anyone. What was it about Kendra? I tried my hardest to come up with a reason, with some trait that explained everything, but I couldn't. It was a mystery—all I knew was that I wanted to be with her.
It made me feel like I might be going a little cuckoo, but for the first time in my life, work didn’t seem so important.
My heart jolted in surprise when I felt Kendra lean into me, instead of away. Maybe she…?
I wasn’t going to let this moment just disappear. I had to take a chance. I reached out with my pinky finger and slowly let it slip around her. I waited for the rejection—but it didn’t come. Our fingers stayed intertwined, and a deep silence came around us, except for the sound of our breathing. Then Kendra let her fingers intertwine with mine, taking my whole hand in hers.
“I’ve thought about it,” she said softly. Her dark eyes held mine, shining in the patio string lights that were twinkling over the edge of Shadetree’s back fence. Then she leaned in and pushed her lips to mine.
It felt like I’d been plugged in, like all the lights inside me had been flipped on. The exhilaration was unreal. I pulled her into me, reveling in the feeling of her lips against mine again. We tasted each other and drank each other in. Her hands reached up pushed through my hair, pulling me in as our tongues met and danced together. I was swimming in ecstasy, and all from a kiss.
I continued to plant little kisses on her lips, never wanting the moment to end. Then we pressed our foreheads together, our breathing quick and excited.
“Wow,” I said. “This is crazy.”
“What is?” she asked.
“How I feel. I feel like I can do anything. I’m so happy. You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to kiss you again, Kendra.”
She drew her hands around my neck. “I realized that I’ve been wanting it too. But, Melany… can you be patient with me?”
“Of course,” I said.
“I might get anxious about things.”
“That’s fine. I’m going to need a little patience, myself. This is all new as hell to me.”
She looked into my eyes again. “So, what does this mean?”
“Well, I’d…” Now I felt shy. “I’d like you to be my g-girlfriend.” I struggled to get the foreign word off my lips.
Kendra laughed and hugged me. “Sure. I’d like that too.”
We stood outside Shadetree in each other’s arms for a long time, neither one of us wanting to be the first to let go and say goodnight. Finally, Kendra was the one to say we should go.
“I’ve got an early morning tomorrow. Riverwalk performances.”
“I’ll come by during my lunch break,” I told her.
“It’s Sunday tomorrow,” she said.
“For me, it’s still a work day,” I said.
Our last kiss lingered until we finally separated, and Kendra hurried off to her car, giving one final glance over her shoulder at me. I smiled at her and then got into my car. For a while, all I could do was sit there smiling.
I have a girlfriend.
I laughed, and then repeated it out loud to myself. “I have a girlfriend. Kendra is my girlfriend.” I shook my head, the grin still plastered to my face, and then pulled out of the parking lot.
When I woke up the following day, the feeling of amazed disbelief continued. I felt like I was walking on air. I went through my routine, and even though it was the same stuff I’d done day in and day out for years, today it felt like everything that I did was the most awesome thing ever—even eating a bowl of regular old cereal.
I sat down at my desk to get some work done. I pulled up my designs and the code, and went over them slowly.
“This is trash,” I said to myself.
I thought about Kendra’s performances, especially the one from the night before, and just how inspired they were. Her passion for what she did was evident in her music.
Where had my passion gone? When I looked at the work I’d done, all I saw was uninspired, derivative garbage. What had happened to the inspiration I’d had with me when I’d first started? My first apps were magic, and I remembered how easy creating them felt, even when I was balancing grad school at the same time.
I couldn’t proceed with what I had. Maybe Kendra was right. I did need to do some searching.
I made a decision. I would scrap what I’d completed and start completely fresh, but only when I felt I had the inspiration to move forward. I’d be patient with myself, and take as long as I needed. I’d let go of my attachments and redefine what wa
s important. I had money—enough to last for a long time if I changed my lifestyle. If that was what had to happen, then I’d do it.
I turned off my computer and looked at the time. It was only mid-morning. Typically, I wouldn’t be taking a break for another four hours.
The routine is no longer applicable, I thought. It’s time to change things up.
I put on a record and paced around the condo, unsure what to do with myself. I made a cup of coffee and then decided not to drink it. I stared at my cell phone, wondering how Kendra was doing.
