Harmonic Feedback

by Tara Kelly

  “I thought it was obnoxious,” Casey said.

  “All good points,” Mr. Diaz said. “Why do you think they held back?”

  I raised my hand. “It’s a picture of society. How nobody tries to help each other—it’s everyone for themselves.”

  “I think the black car is breaking free from the rat race in a sense,” Justin said. “All these people were lined up for the daily grind, and the driver of the black car said, Screw it, nobody is going to stop me.”

  “Nobody wanted to see them get ahead, but their persistence eventually paid off,” I said.

  Mr. Diaz nodded at us and smiled. “It’s good to see you two working so well together.”

  A couple people giggled, and Casey shot me a dirty look. I sank lower in my chair.

  Mr. Diaz opened his mouth to speak, but the bell cut him off. “We’ll continue this tomorrow! Don’t forget to write up your movie reviews for this clip. They’re due tomorrow—first thing.”

  Justin waited for me as I shoved a binder into my backpack. Casey hovered around her desk, watching us.

  “It was good to hear your voice today, Drea.” Mr. Diaz said. “I can tell from your reviews that you understand a lot more than you think you do.”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, my cheeks growing hot.

  “We’ve got the camera this weekend,” Justin said.

  I flung my backpack over one shoulder. “Crap, I promised my grandma I’d help her with a garage sale.”

  He grinned. “Maybe there will be some fun customers to film.”

  “Hey, Justin,” Casey said as we passed her, “Kari wants to talk to you. She’s waiting out front.”

  Justin’s jaw tensed. “Okay.”

  The two of them walked ahead of me toward the school parking lot. Naomi grabbed my shoulders from behind, pulling me back a couple paces. My lunch box slipped out of my grasp and crashed onto the floor. The contents—my iPod, loose change, crayons, lip gloss, and two maxi pads—scattered across the green tile.

  “Can you not do that?” I knelt down and grabbed my iPod.

  “God, cranky much?” She got on her knees and picked up the quarters.

  A couple guys walked by, laughing. “Are those the extra-absorbent kind?” One of them kicked a pad over to me.

  I snatched it and shoved it inside the box. Apparently the fiasco had caught Justin’s attention because he handed the other pad to me and picked up some of my crayons. I really wanted a blanket to hide under.

  “Why don’t you use tampons?” Naomi asked.

  “I’ll wait for you guys outside,” Justin said, getting up. He jogged after Casey.

  “I really hate you right now, Naomi.” I slammed my lunch box shut. “Why do you have to embarrass me in front of him?”

  “Uh, Drea. Most guys our age know we get periods. It’s not like a big secret or anything.”

  “My mom says guys get weirded out when you talk about it.”

  “I know.” She gave me a big smile. “That’s why it’s fun. I like to watch them squirm.”

  I shook my head and headed toward the double set of doors. “Why? That’s a pointless goal.”

  She walked ahead of me and shoved the door open. “Don’t you ever get tired of being such a priss?”

  “Whatever that means.” I hadn’t told Naomi the truth yet. Her words kept spinning in my head. The only one I trust.

  Justin leaned against the trunk of his car, eyeing the ground. Kari did most of the talking, using animated hand gestures that resembled sign language. Casey paced behind them with a cell phone glued to her ear.

  “Drama-queen alert.” Naomi tugged me along. “Let’s go spy.”

  I followed her. At least we wouldn’t be in Kari’s line of vision that way. We slouched over and crept behind a pickup truck next to Justin’s BMW.

  “You didn’t strike me as a coward,” Kari said.

  “I didn’t know what to say—it was awkward.”

  “Only because you made it that way.”

  Naomi let out a snort and covered her laugh.

  I elbowed her in the side.

  Justin shoved his hands into his pockets. “I told you, Kari. It’s not you.”

  “Are you gay?”

  “I just don’t want to hook up with anyone right now.”

  “Is that why you and Drea are attached at the hip?”

  “We’re friends.”

  “Right. You should hear the way she salivates over you in the locker room. Good luck with that.” She shook her head and walked off with Casey.

  I really wanted that blanket.

  Naomi jumped up. “For the record, we merely admire you—our salivary glands aren’t involved.”

  I followed her, keeping my eyes on Justin’s tires. Looking at him would be too intense. Too embarrassing.

  “Good to know,” he answered. “We recording?”

  “I’m game. Did you mic my drums yet, Drea?”

  “Yep.” We’d finally moved her drum kit over yesterday, but she’d played for only five minutes before Grandma had major issues. No drums after sunset, she said. I guess she feared they would attract vampires or something.

  “Sweet! I can’t stay for long, though. My dad is taking me out to dinner tonight,” she said.

  “That’s good, right?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “As long as he shows up.”

  I insisted on riding in the back today. The thought of being so close to Justin made me nervous. If he didn’t know how I felt before, he certainly did now. Kari sucked. And so did Naomi for teasing me so much in the locker room.

  “So, did you totally shoot Kari down, or what?” Naomi asked as we turned onto Holly Street.

  “She made a move on me, and I told her I wasn’t interested. Took her home.”

  “Let me guess. She either gave you a shoulder rub or just leaned in and kissed you. I’m guessing the first one—she uses that on the good boys.”

  I peeked at Justin in the rearview mirror, and his eyes met mine. I hadn’t told Naomi about him.

  “Neither,” he said. “Anyway, she took it personally and wouldn’t let it drop. So I’ve been avoiding her.”

  “Sounds like Kari.” Naomi tapped her knuckles against the window. “Be forewarned—that girl can hold quite the grudge.”

  “I’m not losing sleep over it.”

  I tried to hold back a smile but failed.

  “You don’t think she’s hot at all?” Naomi asked. “Because everything else with a dick does.”

  “Sure, but she’s not my type.”

  “You prefer brainy redheads with music addictions, right?”

  I kicked the back of her chair.

  “Ow, hi. Base of my spine here.” Naomi shifted in her seat.

  “As long as it’s good music,” he said, glancing at me in the rearview mirror again. His lips twitched with a smile.

  I stared out the window for the rest of the car ride.

  I deconstructed Naomi’s face with my HI-8 video camera, moving from her full lips to the crinkle in her brow. The beauty and the flaws—every unique freckle. This was how I saw people.

  “She smiles with grace, but no one recalls her face.” Naomi swayed in front of the microphone, shoe tapping the floor. “Invisible. Carved between the walls. She can scream your name, but you don’t hear her at all.”

  I moved the frame to the right. Justin’s fingers hammered their way into the chorus. His eyelashes fluttered against his pale cheeks and his shoulders gently swayed. Black or white—he owned every key.

  I loved watching them create their magic. That’s what it was to me, really. I could hear everything wrong with a mix, produce a vocal to death, and create a billion different sounds, but I couldn’t play a melody that made me shiver.

  Naomi tilted her head back. Her face contorted with each word. “She knows her place in this world. She can tear down its walls, and still nobody knows her name. Yeah, she knows her place. But she’s not going down… without a fight.”


  Too bad today was just practice. I was getting some great shots.

  She tore the headphones off and hooted. “Okay, that rocked.”

  I turned back to the computer and made sure the vocal track recorded properly. “You really nailed this take, Naomi. I think I can pretty much use the whole thing.”

  “Pretty much?” Justin asked. “Use it all—in its entirety. The flaws make the emotion come through even more.”

  I double clicked on the track. “Yeah, but—”

  “Yeah, but nothing,” he broke in. “Put your ’verb and delay on it—just don’t chop it up.”

  Naomi squealed. “I can’t wait to hear the whole thing! I like the bass line you did, Drea.” She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and kissed my cheek. “It’s groovy.”

  “Thanks,” I said, wiping the wet spot she left behind.

  She plopped in Justin’s lap and sighed. “You, sir, are a piano god.”

  He winced as she gave him a juicy kiss on the forehead. “Are you on something again, Naomi?”

  “I’m high on music. Lighten up, Dad.” She stood up and did some kind of dramatic pose.

  “I think she’s happy about seeing her dad tonight,” I said.

  “No, no,” she said. “It’s the music. Hey, we should play ‘Dawn’ for Justin. I want to record that next.”

  “You up for it?” I asked him.

  “I play by ear. No preparations needed.” He smiled.

  I grabbed my green acoustic and sat with it in my lap. “It’s a little slower in tempo, but more upbeat.” I told him.

  This song called for fifths in the verse. Two power chords played twice each with a muted pick rhythm in between.

  Naomi grabbed the mic, nodding her head to my strums. “Sweet little Jane was caught in a rut. She went too far and never paid up. And the street corner won’t give a dime to Daddy’s little girl with the misty eyes.”

  I glanced over at Justin. He stared back with the hint of a smile on his face. My fingers slipped. “Oops.”

  She launched into the bridge, a spoken-word part repeated twice. “There’s no God fear and no sky to reach. Are my words silent shadows or just obsolete?”

  I avoided Justin’s gaze as I shifted into the chorus. It wasn’t punchy like the verse, calling for more of a dramatic riff.

  “She waits for the dawn… with her lace gloves on. She said revolution. Cleanse the streets, unveil the mask of sweet pollution. Yeah, she waits for the dawn. Her time will come.”

  Justin played three high notes on the piano and colored them in with two bass chords. It gave the song a little more elegance. He kept it simple, as if he knew too much sugar would ruin the mix. I really liked that about him.

  “What time is it?” Naomi asked suddenly.

  “It’s just after five,” Justin said.

  And from the sour odor wafting down the stairs, dinner would come too soon.

  “I gotta go.” She snatched her backpack. “You going to put ‘Invisible’ up tonight?”

  “Planning on it. I just have to do a little mixing and mastering,” I said. What I really wanted to say was, Don’t leave me alone with Justin. I can’t even look at him right now.

  “Cool.” She gave Justin and me a quick hug before sprinting up the stairs.

  The door clicked shut. I faced the computer.

  “Do you want to work on something new?” he asked.

  “That’s okay. I think this will keep me busy for a while.” I labeled Naomi’s latest vocal.

  “Should I go, then?”

  No, I like being around you. Yes, because I think I like it too much. Maybe, because I don’t know what else to say. “Do you want to go?”

  His footsteps came up behind me. Soft and hesitant. “No.”

  I bumped the mouse, undoing my last action. “Um, okay.” Edit-redo. “Just so you know, what Kari said about the locker room thing. I don’t talk about you. Naomi does and—”

  His breath tickled my ear. “I don’t care.”

  I accidentally deleted my bass track. Undo. Wait, wrong menu. “What would you like to undo? I mean, do?”

  He looked at the computer over my shoulder. “I could watch you work your magic.”

  “I need the earphones for that.” Think, Drea. “But I’ve always wanted to learn how to play the piano.”

  “Sweet.” He grabbed the back of my chair and rolled me toward the keyboard. “Door-to-door service.”

  I gripped the armrests. “Um, thanks.”

  He moved his chair to my right. His arm pressed into mine as he sat down. “What song do you want to learn?”

  “How about one of yours?” I tried to keep my voice even. Interested. But it probably came out over the top.

  “Okay, I’ll teach you the first one I wrote. It’s really lame, but easy to learn.”

  “I doubt it’s lame.”

  He took my left hand and pressed my fingers into three notes. “This is A-minor. Your first chord. Just keep playing A-C-E-A-C-E.”

  I played each note as he directed until I found a rhythm.

  “You got it.” His hand hovered over mine again. “Now move your pinkie back to the G and play G-B-D the same way.” He instructed me to move down to E-minor, then up to F before returning to A-minor. It was hard to focus with him so close, especially when he smelled like rain again.

  As I got the hang of the bass notes, he played a sparse melody in a higher octave, following my unpredictable rhythm perfectly. “You’re a quick study,” he said.

  “Whatever. I keep hitting the wrong notes.”

  He touched my nose. “That’s because you’re thinking too hard. Close your eyes.”

  “Then I won’t be able to see what I’m doing.”

  “That’s the point,” he whispered in my ear. “Sometimes the only way to connect is to let go.”

  I shut my eyes, trying to detach my brain from my hand. No easy feat. Justin played a few more notes. These were faster—more passionate. They gave me chills. I tapped my foot on the floor and pretended I was driving his melody. My fingers moved slowly at first, but I became less aware of everything as the music swam around me.

  Justin took my free hand, his fingers sliding over mine and pressing them to the keys. My other hand twitched. I hit G-sharp instead of G.

  He used my fingertips to play the notes. For a few moments I felt like a real piano player lost in my own creation. It was incredible. And I didn’t want it to stop.

  I leaned on him, letting his warmth draw me closer. His breath hit my cheek. My heart beat faster. I tilted my face up, and his lips met mine. Our hands slid off the keyboard and his fingers inched up my forearms. I had no idea what to do, or if I was even doing it right.

  His mouth pressed into mine, parting my lips softly. My skin felt weird. Hot all over and sensitive to every movement.

  I pulled back and opened my eyes. “I don’t think I’m doing this right.”

  He smiled and ran his fingers through my hair. “The piano or the kiss?”

  “Both.”

  “Do you want to stop?”

  I looked at the faint freckle on his upper lip and the gold flecks in his eyes. “You’re really beautiful,” I said before shaking my head. “God, that probably sounded stupid.”

  He touched his nose to mine. “So are you.”

  His soft lips pressed into mine again, and I closed my eyes, kissing him back. His arm muscles tensed with my touch, and his breaths grew heavier. I was afraid the spit thing would gross me out, but I didn’t mind it. It made him real. It made this real.

  He pulled me closer and kissed my jaw, moving down my neck. His mouth found a spot behind my ear that sent tickles down my spine. The feeling was almost too intense to take.

  And then the door upstairs swung open. “Andrea?” Grandma called. “Dinner is ready.”

  We pulled apart. I wiped my lips with the back of my hand, wondering if they’d look kissed somehow. Justin sat up straighter and put one hand on the keyboard.


  Grandma’s sharp eyes went from me to Justin when she reached the bottom step. “Where’s Naomi?”

  “She went home,” I said.

  “Oh.” Her eyes rested on Justin again. “What are you two doing down here?”

  “Justin was teaching me how to play piano.”

  “Don’t you have homework to do?”

  “I finished most of it at school.”

  “Well, come on, then. It’s getting cold.” She headed back up the steps, leaving the door open. “Juliana!”

  I tucked my hair behind my ear and stared hard at my hands. They were still shaking. “Um, sorry. You should probably go, but…”

  He moved closer to me again. “But?”

  “I don’t really want you to.”

  Grandma yelled for my mom again.

  “What?” Mom asked. It sounded like they were moving into the kitchen.

  “Andrea is down there alone. With that boy.” Even my grandma’s whispers carried.

  “Oh, for Christ sake, Mom. So what?”

  The corner of Justin’s mouth curved up, but he covered it.

  “Go ahead and laugh,” I said. “My grandma is a freak.”

  “I’m sorry if I got you in trouble,” he said.

  Mom jogged down the stairs before I could answer. She grinned when she caught me smoothing my hair back. “Hey, Justin.”

  He smiled and waved at her.

  “Sorry about my mom,” she said. “She doesn’t mean to be rude. She’s just—”

  “It’s cool,” he said, glancing at me. “I get it.”

  “You’re welcome to stay for dinner.”

  He studied my face before answering. “Sure, okay. Thanks.”

  Mom winked at me before turning around and heading back upstairs. My face burned.

  “My grandma’s cooking is really bad. I mean, like mushy vegetables and stuffed pork chops bad.”

  Justin put his hand over mine, tangling our fingers together. “I grew up with a bad cook, remember? I can handle it.”

  I twirled my spoon in Grandma’s version of vegetable stew. This included no salt, gravy like water, and a bitter aftertaste. She’d chosen twelve-grain bread as a side dish. It was untoasted and stale around the edges.

  Grandma discussed the art of grocery store coupons with Mom, while Justin and I took turns kicking and dodging each other’s feet. My stomach fluttered every time I caught his eye.