by Peak, Renna
I found a seat near the window and looked out over the campus. The sun gleamed over the trees in a way that was all San Francisco. I loved it here, loved this campus. I could see myself here, studying music the way I had always wanted. There was only one performance between me and finally realizing my dream. Thinking that way usually caused me to blow auditions, so I had to turn myself back to the sterile lobby and try not to think about it. I sat there for what seemed like forever.
A blonde man, lithe and about my height came and sat next to me. His lips tugged into a small smile. “Hey, I’m John.”
I nodded at him. “Jenna.”
He blew out a long breath. “I can’t believe how nervous I am.”
“Yeah, me, too.” I glanced around the room, trying to get him to take the hint that I wasn’t really in the mood to talk.
“So, where’s your undergrad degree from?” He turned in his chair to face me, intent on making conversation.
“Uh, Georgetown. You?”
“Georgetown? Georgetown has a music program?” He raised an eyebrow with disbelief.
It wasn’t anything I hadn’t heard before. “Yes, they have a music program. What about you? Where did you go?”
“Performance major at USC.”
I gave him a large nod. “Nice to meet you, John from USC.”
“You, too, Georgetown Jenna.”
I smiled and turned my attention to the doors of the lobby. A woman called out, “Five. Applicant number five, please.” My stomach flipped again. Only three more people performing before me.
I turned back to John. “I’m number eight. What’d you pull?”
He showed me his card. “Lucky number nineteen.”
My eyes widened just a bit and I grinned. “That is a lucky number, you know. Known for its magic and good fortune.”
He gave me a serious look and nodded again. “I know. I’m pretty stoked about it.”
I shook my head. “God, I could only be so lucky.”
He held the card out to me. “Wanna trade?”
I narrowed my gaze and shook my head. “No thanks. Eight just happens to be my lucky number.”
He chuckled. “So, Georgetown Jenna, you have someone special back in D.C.?”
I raised an eyebrow at him. Of course he’d hit on me. Of course it would happen before this audition. “Not in D.C., no. I’ve been out here in San Francisco since December.”
“Ah, so you have someone special here.”
I shrugged, not really answering the question in any meaningful way. “What about you?”
He nodded. “I’m still in L.A. My boyfriend and I have a place down there. I don’t know what we’ll do if I get in. I don’t think he’ll move up here.”
I breathed a small sigh of relief before I nodded in agreement. “Long distance relationships are hard.” At least he wasn’t hitting on me.
“I don’t even want to think about it. I want this so much, but I don’t want to think about it.”
“Yeah. I guess we have other things to worry about first.” I tapped at my sheet music. “What are you playing?”
“I’m winging it.” He turned to me with a grin. “Just kidding. I actually have a piece that I composed last year. What about you?”
“Um, the Hammerklavier allegro movement.”
“No shit? Georgetown teaches Beethoven, huh?” He had a stunned look on his face.
“I’ve had some good teachers outside of school.” It was known as a difficult piece, one I’d been trying to perfect for years. It didn’t help that I’d pretty much given up the piano, but my brain seemed to still remember the fingering. I hoped it did, anyway.
“Shit, I guess.” He fell silent and I was afraid I’d scared him away. “That’s impressive. You’re probably a shoo-in.”
“I don’t know about that. I’ve got a lot on my plate right now, though, so…” I took a deep breath and blew it out. “I’m not even sure how I’ll make this work if I do get in.”
“I hear ya. I just took a job at Disneyland, playing in one of the hotels. It’s an awesome job. I’d hate to have to give it up. It would be a really hard decision.”
I nodded. “Most decisions worth making are.” The hairs on my arms raised a bit and I could feel someone watching me. I heard a man clear his throat behind me.
I turned to face him. We both spoke at the same time. “What are you doing here?” I scrambled from my chair and backed against the table. “Are you stalking me?” I raised an eyebrow at him.
He cleared his throat again before speaking in his rich baritone voice. “I was going to ask you the same thing.” He looked over at John and his gaze swept up and down. “Who’s your friend?”
The woman came from the auditorium. “Six. Applicant number six, please.”
I tilted my head. “This is John from USC.” I turned back to John. “John, this is Brandon.”
He pressed his lips into a thin smile. “Good to meet you.”
Brandon flicked his eyebrows in response then turned his gaze to me. “You didn’t answer your phone.”
“I didn’t get any calls.” I chewed my upper lip. “What are you doing here?” He couldn’t possibly have wanted to watch my audition. Even he would have to know that they wouldn’t allow it.
He motioned with his head toward the window and I followed him over. We took a seat a few feet away from John and he turned to me. “I told you I had business to take care of. You didn’t follow me here, did you?”
My brows furrowed into my eyes and my jaw clenched. The tone of my voice deepened at his accusation. “No, I didn’t. I’m auditioning for fall. Didn’t you arrange this?” I made a sweeping motion with my hand around all the other musicians gathered in the lobby. “I thought you were the one that submitted my name.”
He raised an eyebrow. “As much as I’d like to take credit, I had nothing to do with this, Jen.”
I tilted my head and narrowed my gaze at him. “Really? Nothing at all?”
He shook his head at me, biting at his lip. “No, nothing.”
“Then why are you here?”
His eyes narrowed a bit at my questioning. “I had business.” He cleared his throat. “My grandmother…” He had to pause to clear his throat again. “She wanted to leave enough to this place to form a scholarship. Turned out she didn’t leave enough, even though she left them every penny she had. I came here to make it right. To get her what she wanted. I owe it to her.”
I reached out and touched his hand. “I think that’s the nicest thing I’ve ever heard.”
His eyes flicked out to the window and he shrugged it off. After a long moment, his gaze returned to me. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
He chuckled and rolled his eyes a little. “No, I mean it. I have some things to talk to you about. I leased a place. Not just a short term lease this time, but a real apartment. It’s the first lease I’ve signed in…” He twisted his mouth around. “Well, in a long time.”
I nodded, holding his gaze. I tried to urge him on with my eyes.
“I have some other stuff to show you. I just want you to believe I’m trying. I want to make this work. You and me, I mean.”
“Seven. Applicant seven, please.” The woman from the auditorium ducked back through the doors.
“I’m next.” I ran my hand through my hair, unsure of what else to say to him. “I, I’m glad, Brandon. I think that’s good. The lease, I mean.”
“Yeah?” A corner of his mouth turned into a crooked grin.
“Yeah.”
He reached out and touched the pendant that was around my neck, the one he had given me. “This is good luck, you know. You’re going to do great.”
“I hope so. I didn’t have a lot of time to prepare.” I bit at my bottom lip. “You’re sure you had nothing to do with this?” I motioned around the room again.
“I’m quite sure. I didn’t even know it was something you were still thinking about.”
“I didn’t either, not until they called on Monday. I was just sure…” I pursed my lips and looked down at my lap. “I was sure it was you.”
He shook his head and lifted his shoulders into a slight shrug. “Does it matter who it was? If it’s what you want, it doesn’t matter, does it?”
“I guess not.” I stood up from the window seat. I knew I was next and my stomach wasn’t letting me forget it.
He stood up after me and pulled me into an embrace. He whispered into my ear. “Hey, you’re going to do great. I believe in you.” He placed a gentle kiss on my temple.
That warm, fuzzy feeling he always managed to give me started in my temple and worked its way through my body. I was going to be okay. “That means a lot, Brandon.”
He gave that crooked, one sided smile that I loved to me again and his blue eyes bore into mine without another word.
“Eight. Applicant eight please.”
I pressed my lips together. “That’s me.”
He nodded. “I believe in you.”
I didn’t know if it was his words, or everything I’d been through in the past few months. Walking into the auditorium and taking my seat behind the piano, I knew what that warm, fuzzy feeling that I still had was. It had nothing to do with soft kisses pressed to my temple.
I was finally beginning to believe in myself.
Mistaken 5
The Mistaken Series - Part Five
1
“You really think refreshing that thing every five seconds is going to make a difference?” Melissa tried to close my laptop on top of my hands.
I pushed the screen back up. My foot rested on the lower bar of the stool I was sitting on at our kitchen counter, my knee bouncing up and down like crazy. “They said they’d send the results by email by five. It’s almost 5:30.” The longer I waited to hear whether or not I’d been admitted to the conservatory, the more anxious I was becoming. I raked my hands through my hair before hitting the refresh button on my email again. “Besides, what difference does it make to you?”
She pushed on the screen again, almost getting it closed that time. “Because, you aren’t paying attention to me. I have stuff to tell you.” She let out a huff and stomped her foot. “Whether they send the email now or in a few hours isn’t going to change the outcome, right? Do you really think they aren’t going to let you in?”
I let out a long sigh. She was right, of course. I closed the lid of the laptop, and folded my hands on top of the computer. I picked at my cuticles, causing the one on my thumb to almost start bleeding. “Fine. What’s the stuff you need to tell me?”
She came around the counter from our little kitchen and plopped onto the bar stool next to me. “First of all, tell me how the audition went.”
“Fine.” I crossed my arms over my chest. The empty feeling in the pit of my stomach was relentless. “It was fine. What did you need to tell me?”
“Just fine? I don’t believe that. They didn’t tell you anything? Like whether lover boy had anything to do with getting you that audition?” She cocked an eyebrow. “’Cuz you know he did.”
I shrugged, trying to ignore her insinuation. My fingers curled and uncurled around my upper arms. “He said he didn’t.”
Her eyes widened. “He said? You talked to him?”
I tilted my head to the side, blinking rapidly. “He was there. Something about a scholarship his grandmother wanted to start.” I pressed my lips into a line, and blinked my eyes again. “I don’t know. He said it wasn’t him. He said it was just a coincidence that he was there.”
Mel groaned. “Ugh, right. Another one of his bullshit coincidences. When are you going to see through those, Jenna? Jesus Christ.” She shook her head. “Everywhere you go, there he is. They can’t all be coincidences, right? He’s totally feeding you a line of bullshit. You need to wake up, doll.” She was the one who crossed her arms in front of her this time, almost challenging me.
“Whatever.” My knee was threatening to bounce me right off the bar stool, and I folded my hands onto my lap to try to calm it. I didn’t really need to hear this from her. It wasn’t like I didn’t know it was hard to believe, that it was almost impossible that he’d show up out of the blue as often as he did. In as many places as he did. I just wanted to believe him. I desperately did. I looked back over at her. “What was your news?”
She rolled her eyes, tossing her blonde curls over her shoulder. “I don’t have any news. I just wanted to bitch about my day. Which sucked, by the way.” She blew out another puff of air. “My dad lectured me for over an hour this morning.” She changed her voice to sound more like her father’s. ‘This is your last chance, Melissa Bishop. You better get your act together, Melissa Bishop.’ Blah, blah, blah. Then it was right back to the fucking typing pool. I mean seriously, how can people not be able to type their own email? Don’t you think it takes as much energy to figure out how to record your voice as it does to type a fucking email? It’s a bunch of bullshit. I hate it and I don’t want to do it anymore.”
“I’m sorry, Mel. You could always come back to Iowa with me, you know. Now that Will won’t be on the campaign bus, it might actually be kind of fun.” I raised an eyebrow, hopeful she’d at least consider my invitation. I picked mindlessly at the poor cuticle on my thumb nail. “What do you think?”
She shook her head. “Nah. I applied at the co-op on my lunch break. They’re looking for a yoga instructor. I think I could do it, don’t you?” She raised her eyebrows, giving me her own hopeful look.
“Don’t you need some kind of certification for that? I thought yoga instructors…”
She interrupted, shaking her head. Her eyes narrowed. “You’re just like him, you know that? You think I’m not good enough.”
I closed my eyes and turned my head from side to side. “No, no. Mel, I think you’re awesome. Seriously. You just need to find something that fits you better than working at your dad’s office.”
She rested her chin on her hand, breathing loudly through her nose. “I’m not qualified for anything else, though, you know? What can you do with barely two years of college?”
“You were in school for three and half years, Mel. You’ve got more than two years in. There have to be lots of things you can do.”
She shook her head again, almost grunting at me. “I only have enough credits for two years, though. I flunked so many classes; you don’t have any idea.” She brought her other hand under her chin, frowning like she was now in a full blown pity party. “I spent most of my time at Georgetown on academic probation. You were so busy with Daniel you didn’t even notice.”
I rolled my eyes and didn’t respond, just shook my head at her. She was a party girl, and it had nothing to do with me or how much time I spent with Daniel. I opened my computer back up to check my email one more time. I gulped down the dry lump that formed in my throat when I saw the subject at the top of my email. Audition Results. “It’s here.”
Melissa jumped from her stool and came to stand behind me, looking over my shoulder. “Well, open it! What does it say?”
I took a deep breath and clicked on the line to open the email. I made the mistake of reading it out loud.
Dear Jenna Davis,
Thank you for taking the time to audition for our board today. After careful consideration, the audition committee has chosen other candidates to move forward with the selection process. We thank you for considering the San Francisco Conservatory of Music and wish you well in your future endeavors.
Mel’s mouth fell open. “That has to be a joke.”
I shook my head; my stomach had dropped to the floor in shock. All I could do was stare at the screen, incredulous. Tears began to well behind my eyes. I could barely eek out a whisper, my voice soft, nearly shaking. “No, no joke.” I turned the laptop toward her so she could read for herself.
She peered in at the screen and shook her head. “You’re the best fucking pianist in San Fran; they have to know that. You’re too good for the
m anyway, Jenna.” She stood from the stool and came over to hug me.
I endured the short pity hug and pulled away, closing my laptop. I forced back the tears and stood up myself. I just wanted to hide in shame. I was crushed, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to show it, especially since I hadn’t really let myself believe how much I had wanted it. Not until I didn’t get it. I plastered a smile to my face. “Let’s go to dinner. My treat. Celebrate your first day back at Baxter & Bishop.”
Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean, celebrate? There’s nothing to celebrate, Jenna.” She sat on the edge of her stool, her knee doing the bouncing this time. “Did you screw up your piece? I know you couldn’t have, but did you?”
I pressed my lips into a thin smile, still trying to restrain the tears that were threatening to fall. I lifted my shoulders into a small shrug. “It was fine.”
“Oh, Jenna, what happened?” She stood up and pulled me into another embrace.
I hugged her for a moment, then pulled away, shaking my head. “Nothing. It went well. I probably could have used a few more days to practice, but it was good. I played the piece as well as I ever have.” I shook my head again, my gaze firmly planted on the floor. “I don’t know what could have happened. There were other people playing original pieces; maybe that’s what they were looking for.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Oh, sweetie.” She pulled me into a hug again. “I’ll take you out to dinner, my treat. Okay? We’ll figure it out.”
I nodded, eyes still glued to the floor, trying to prevent the river of tears that I was sure was about to start to flow.
“You don’t think…” She stopped mid-sentence, the color draining from her face.
I looked up at her, sniffling back the last of the emotions I was desperately attempting to bury. “Think what?”
She forced her lips into a smile and let out a guarded laugh. “Nothing. Never mind.” She grabbed her purse from the counter where she had thrown it when she’d come in from work. “Let’s go to that new noodle place down the street. We never did get to try it.”
