by H. L. Logan
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.
Hold on, you can just go see her right now. I wasn’t confined to my schedule. I could go to the Riverwalk now and see her. Hell, I could spend the whole day down there if I wanted. I couldn't help but be a little intimidated by the thought. My routine had been gospel for so long, with it all revolving around the goal of work productivity, and to just toss it all out felt bizarre. I felt lost.
Why is this so damn hard?
I continued to pace. “Just go,” I told myself. “Stop being dumb and just go. It’s okay not to be working. Remember what your new goal is.”
Finally, I changed out of my work clothes and into something more casual. Then, after a few more minutes of anxious pacing, I threw myself into the elevator and mashed the button.
7
Kendra
Had it all been a dream? Because that’s definitely how it felt when I’d woken up. I spent nearly an hour lying in bed staring at the ceiling, going over the events of the night before. Everything seemed so unreal.
I’d gotten up on stage with a band and played the drums again without having a complete anxiety attack.
Oh, and now I had a girlfriend.
I repeated our kiss in my mind over and over, still in complete disbelief that we were actually together. The kiss had felt unreal then, too. It hadn’t been like anything we’d shared the first night we’d spent together, no, it was way better than anything we’d shared. Even the sex.
How could a kiss be better than sex? I had no explanation for it, but it was. The moment I touched my lips to hers, it felt like fireworks were exploding above my head. It felt like I’d been zapped with a bolt of lightning that excited every single cell in my body. The only thing that could compare to it was the feeling of being on stage, performing in front of people.
No, this was ever better than that. And it was only a kiss.
I wanted to tell someone about what had happened, but Monica had driven to Manchester for a video game convention, so I had the house to myself. If I told someone, I thought it might feel more real.
Once I see Melany again, it’ll feel real.
I thought of calling her, but I didn’t want to bother her while she was working, so I headed out to the Riverwalk to start my day. I’d been out there for a couple hours when out of nowhere, Kaitlyn and Brianne showed up.
“Hey, Kendra,” Brianne said, shaking my hand. They both had their instrument cases with them. “We were hoping you’d be out here today.”
“You guys are playing today too?” I asked.
“Yup,” said Kaitlyn. “We usually play right around here, or down by the ice cream shop.”
“Let’s play together,” I suggested. “We could probably just do the same stuff we did last night. People would love it.”
Kaitlyn grinned. “You read my mind.”
“I’m totally down,” agreed Brianne.
They set down their cases and started to prep their instruments. Last night, Kaitlyn had been on an electric guitar, but today she had an acoustic. Brianne’s violin was also unamplified, so I made a mental note to temper my volume.
“I have to say again that I’m super happy we found you, by the way,” Kaitlyn said. “It’s like, destiny.”
“It really was an amazing coincidence,” I said. “It’s hard to believe that last night even happened. I hadn’t been in front of a real drum set in months.”
“Really?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Actually, it was this street drumming that helped me get over the blocks I was suffering from. I’d been literally unable to play on my drum set. Every time I tried, I’d get these horrible anxiety attacks.”
“What happened?” asked Brianne, and I filled them in on what had happened at Beasley with my professor.
“You know, I’ve known a lot of people who have gone through similar things,” she said. “I was in the music program too. It can be really, really tough. The competition can get to people sometimes. It’s terrible that your mentor said those things to you, though. I wonder where he was coming from.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’d already been going through a rough patch in my life so my self-esteem was not in the best shape in the first place. So, I couldn’t even bring myself to stick around to try and find out. I just kind of withered away slowly.” I sighed. “I must sound pathetic.”
“No,” said Brianne. “Not at all. I understand. The pressure can be crippling, sometimes. Personally, I’m just glad I have my girlfriend to support me.”
“Yeah, fuck school,” said Kaitlyn. “All that rigidity stifles creativity. I mean, to each their own, of course. But I think you’re a damn good drummer as it is.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“Would you ever go back?” asked Brianne.
“Fuck that,” I said without hesitation, and Brianne laughed. “I don’t want to see that professor again.”
The truth was that I had considered going back, because deep down, some masochistic part of me did want to see Dr. Adler again. Part of me wanted to know why he’d destroyed my self-esteem and threw me out to the wolves, even though I knew that finding out would just crush me again. What kind of mentor did that?
But I wouldn’t go back. I couldn’t, and besides, I couldn’t afford tuition even if I really wanted to. Even with all the restaurant hours and street drumming cash in the world I couldn't afford Beasley tuition, not without my scholarships, and I wasn’t about to pull out loans.
“So, same set as last night?” asked Kaitlyn.
“Yeah,” I said. “Will you be okay singing without an amp? I’ll temper my drumming.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, with a grin. “My voice is fucking powerful.”
The three of us laughed. I really liked Kaitlyn and Brianne. It was nice to have new friends, especially ones that I had musical chemistry with. I hadn’t realized just how much I’d missed playing with other people.
It wasn’t long before we’d gathered a large crowd of people, way bigger than anything I’d been able to draw on my own. Practically everyone had their phones out, recording us playing. I loved how raw our performance was. Last night we’d been on mic’d and amplified instruments, so everything had a very clear and defined sound. Today, we were fully unplugged, and the combination of acoustic guitar, violin, and makeshift street drums was visceral and exciting. Even though we’d played these songs together before, it felt off the cuff and almost improvisational, even more than it had last night.
We were in the middle of our third song when I suddenly felt a presence that made me open my eyes and drew me out of my concentration. I was surprised to see Melany standing in the crowd, smiling as she watched us. My heart nearly flew out of my mouth, and I almost let go of one of my sticks. I struggled to restrain a laugh as I imagined nailing her with the drumstick again.
When we finished the song, Melany came over, wrapped me up in a hug, and planted a kiss on my lips.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. “Isn’t this a bit early for lunch?”
“I decided not to work,” she said. “I’ll explain later.”
“Whoah, whoaaah,” said Kaitlyn. “Just friends, huh? Looks like we missed something after we left last night.”
“Yeah,” laughed Melany. “We’re kind of together now.”
There were some scattered awws from the crowd and one “that’s so cute.”
“Yeah, let’s give this new happy couple a hand, folks!” Kaitlyn said, clapping.
“Anyway, I just wanted to say hi,” said Melany, giving me another kiss that made the butterflies flutter inside of me. “I’m going to watch you guys play.”
She retreated back to the edge of the crowd, who parted to allow her a front spot, and the three of us burst into our next song.
We played for three hours before Kaitlyn and Brianne both had
to leave. They asked if I would still be here later in the day, but I told them I wasn’t sure. If Melany wasn’t working, I wanted to spend the day with her instead.
“Let me treat you to lunch,” I told her. “I made pretty good money today. Playing with Kaitlyn and Brianne is really going to be good.”
“You guys are awesome,” Melany said. “But you don’t have to do that. You should hold on to that money. Use it for your rent.”
“I want to treat you,” I insisted. “I’ll be fine.”
“Okay,” she said, and smiled. “Where do you want to go?”
I grinned apologetically. “McDonalds?”
We sat and chatted over Big Macs and a pile of French fries, and Melany explained her revelation and how she planned on holding off on her projects until she felt she was ready to work again.
“I need to find my soul again,” she told me, munching on a ketchup-dipped fry. “Just like how I suspect you needed to find yours again for your drumming. A creator can’t create something worthwhile without her soul behind it.”
“Mm,” I said, chewing down a mouthful of burger. “I do agree with that, but I don’t know if I agree that I’m playing with my soul.”
“Come on. Every time I see you play, it feels like I’m seeing a bit of your soul. You’re amazing.”
“I don’t feel that way, though. It was still a bit of a struggle, playing last night. The alcohol helped, but the anxiety is still there.”
“I see,” she said. “Then what do you think is missing?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I don’t even know if I could get myself in front of a drum set again. I’m afraid that last night was just a fluke.”
“Well… why don’t you try again?” she asked. “Try to play your drums again.”
Play my drums again.
Thinking about it, I could feel the faint bubbling of anxiety from deep down inside me. It wasn’t as bad as it had been before, but it was still there. Could I even do it?
“I don’t know,” I said. “What if I can’t?”
“Then you keep working at it. You can’t be afraid forever, Kendra. Tell you what. Why don’t you play for me? I’ll be your moral support.”
“I don’t know,” I said again. “Maybe.”
Melany took my hand and squeezed it. “I’m not going to give up on you, Kendra. After hearing you play last night, there’s no way I could ever let you just give that up. The street drumming is badass and all—you’re an amazing street drummer—but hearing you play on a real kit was sublime. So how about this? We go to your place, and you can see how you feel there. If you can’t play, then… we can make out on the couch or something.”
I laughed. “Alright, alright. You’ve convinced me. Can we make out on the couch anyway? My roommate is gone.”
“Well, fuck. Screw the drums, let’s just make out for the rest of the day!”
After finishing lunch, we drove back to the house, and I struggled to keep the anxiety from churning its way up and taking its hold in my chest. Melany seemed to sense it, and she wrapped her arm around me and pulled me close against her as we walked up to the front door.
“Nice place,” she commented when I let us inside. “It’s very cozy.”
“It’s my roommate’s house,” I said. “Her parents own it.”
Melany plonked down onto the couch, and then patted the space next to her. “Come on, it’s make out time.”
I laughed and joined her. She drew her arm around me, and I leaned in to kiss her. I immediately felt all the tension unwind from my chest as I melted against her, slipping my arms around her. I felt electric, like energy was buzzing between our lips and tongues as they touched.
“Is that it?” she asked, nodding towards my sheet-covered drum kit.
“Yeah, that’s it.”
“I’d love to hear you play it.”
I breathed out a sigh. “I really have to do this, don’t I?”
“Yes. I’m not leaving you alone until you try. It’s important, Kendra. We could get a bottle of wine, or something, if that would make it easier.”
I shook my head. “No, if I’m going to do it, it has to be sober. I can’t keep using alcohol as my crutch.”
“Okay. Fair enough.”
I stood up and walked over to my drums, and then yanked away the sheet. It billowed in the air and fluttered to the ground. I walked around behind my kit, and then dropped myself down onto the stool. Melany watched eagerly from the couch. My heart thudded as I picked up my sticks.
I can do this. I think I can actually do this.
“Give me a moment to tune the drums,” I said. “They haven’t been played in a while.”
“Yeah. Take your time, there’s no rush.”
I went through and tuned each piece of my kit, going slowly. It was strange to hear its familiar sound again.
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s see.”
I hovered the sticks above the pads, and I realized my hands were shaking. Suddenly, I could hear Dr. Adler’s voice in my head telling me I was no good. The shaking grew until my whole body was trembling.
Come on, Kendra. Come on.
“You can do this,” Melany said. I looked up and saw her smiling at me. “I believe in you.”
I exhaled a breath. Gripped the sticks. And then played.
At first, the beat stumbled out of me in a twisted mess, like I was tripping over myself. I resisted the urge to throw my sticks aside, and kept playing. My heartbeat raced with nervous excitement as the muscle memory associated with my drum set started to return to me. It’d been so long since I’d played on my set, and she sounded excited to be awake again.
Fuck, I’m actually playing again. I’m really doing it. Last night wasn’t a fluke.
I was making mistakes left and right, but I was actually playing my drums again. I increased the complexity of my rhythm, breaking away from the safety of the rudimentary beat I was playing, and started to have fun. My hands flew. I closed my eyes, and a smile pulled across my lips. I could feel the music starting to well up inside me, overflowing out like a spring.
When I opened my eyes again, I saw that Melany had risen to her feet, her gray eyes wide and excited. She tapped her foot and bobbed her head along with the beat, imitating my playing with her hands. My smile widened into a laugh. Something else happened too—something that had never happened to me while playing before. I felt heat aching between my thighs.
I ended my improvisation with a snap of the crash symbol, and its brassy hiss rang out into the room, slowly fading away. Melany and I just stared at each other, like we were waiting for the last bit of sound to disappear before either of us spoke. I was thrumming with excitement, and it felt like another part of me that’d been long dormant had suddenly woken up.
“So, tell me again you can’t play,” Melany said, grinning.
“Well, I guess I was wrong,” I said.
She spread her arms and came towards me. I tossed my sticks aside and pounced on her, throwing my legs around her waist. She stumbled backwards and fell onto the couch with me on top of her. I threw my arms around her neck and kissed her. The adrenaline from playing was pumping through my body, and I pushed myself up against her, needing her touch, and she responded eagerly. I was aching with want, rubbing myself up against her. Her hands moved down from my back and cupped my ass, pushing my hips even closer into her.
I stripped my jacket off and tossed it onto the floor, and Melany helped me pull my shirt off. Her hands explored up to my breasts, and unhooked my bra. Her fingertips danced across my nipples as she caressed me. Then they drew around the back of my neck and pulled me forward. She kissed all around my breasts, avoiding my nipples until the very end. I sighed as her tongue slowly circled around my erect nipple, sending little shivers of pleasure through my body. I gasped when she nipped them with her teeth.
“Ow,” I said with a grin. “More.”
Melany smiled and raked her teeth over them again. Then she grabbed me b
y the waist, picked me up, and flipped me on the couch so that she was on top. She pulled off her top, revealing her gorgeous body. I felt my mouth water for her, and I ran my fingers along her curves. She leaned down and kissed me on the lips, and then started to kiss down—my chin, my neck, my collarbone, my chest, my stomach…
She got down on her knees in front of me, and popped open the button of my shorts. “I’ve been looking forward to this,” she said, and slowly pulled down my shorts. She lightly ran her fingers over my underwear, which had darkened from my excitement. I squirmed, wanting more. She ran her palms along the inside of my bare thighs, stopping just before she reached my spot. Then she did the same thing with her lips, planting slow, teasing kisses along my thighs, starting from my knees and working her way inward. I was dying for a little of her touch. It was almost too much to handle.
