Fever Pitch

by Heidi Cullinan

  Between the two of them, Giles and Aaron were so overbooked for Christmas with Timothy, their schedules were impossible. The venues for the preshow dinners were rarely in the same building, and more than once on the schedule they were double-booked. When it was clear none of the powers that be planned to sort out the tangle, Giles took the problem of his and Aaron’s double-bookings directly to Dr. Allison.

  “Goodness.” Dr. Allison glanced over the top of his glasses at Giles as he scanned their schedules. “I’ll talk to Susan and Harvey about this and get back to you. There’s one large venue each night housing several groups, and if we moved Salvo and the Ambassadors there, that could fix everything. The administration and the regents don’t like having the draw groups there because they want to take their big fish to intimate locations. But it looks like they’ll have to decide if they want high-profile acts or intimacy for those donors, because they can’t have both.”

  Giles relaxed. “Thanks. I really appreciate it, and I know Aaron will too.”

  “I have a ticket myself for the Thursday dinner and performance. I’m eager to see what the two of you have cooked up. From what I understand, you and Mr. Seavers are the most productive non-music majors we’ve ever had.”

  Giles ducked his head, embarrassed by the compliment. “I think I’m almost ready to give in and declare music therapy. I want to talk to my parents first, though, because of the extra year.”

  “If it comes down to money, Giles, we have scholarships for this exact sort of thing.”

  Giles averted his gaze. “I’m…nervous. I don’t want to ruin the rest of my life because I got distracted following some crazy dream I couldn’t make real.”

  “Healing others through music isn’t a crazy dream, and it’s my job, young man, to navigate you safely into your profession. But should you change your mind once you graduate, one can accept all manner of jobs with a music therapy degree.”

  “I know. I just… It’s scary. This is the one time I get to go to college. I don’t want to do it wrong.”

  “The only way you do life wrong is by living out someone else’s expectations instead of your own. Listen to the song in your heart, son. It won’t ever steer you astray.” Dr. Allison patted his hand and nodded at the schedules. “I’ll get these sorted out for you and get them to you by the dress rehearsal on Wednesday.”

  When Giles told Aaron about what he’d done, for half a second he thought Aaron was going to kiss him.

  “How did you—? Oh my God.” Aaron reached for Giles, caught himself and pressed his hands to his own cheeks instead. “I was so nervous about how to get to all my performances I almost threw up twice. Thank you.”

  Aaron’s praise made Giles so dizzy he had to hold on to the lockers. Don’t look like a dopey idiot. Keep your cool. “Of course. We’re—friends. Right?”

  Did Aaron seem disappointed? “Right. Thanks.”

  When Aaron and Giles showed up for the dress rehearsal, Dr. Allison met them at the door with their revised dinner performance schedules. “You’ll be doing some quick costume changes and will need to be light on your feet between sets, but you’re in the same building for all four dinners.”

  “Thank you so much,” Giles said as Aaron visibly relaxed.

  “Not a problem.” Allison nodded at the stage. “Now take your places. I intend to work you rigorously today.”

  The dress rehearsal was long, and though it wasn’t a performance, the regents and administration somehow still managed to wander in and out with fancy-pants people almost the entire time. When it was finally over, Giles was so sick of music and Christmas especially he wanted to go to his room and play Xbox until he stopped twitching. Maybe eat some damn dinner, since he’d missed lunch—again.

  When he started out of the auditorium, Karen caught his arm and latched on like a barnacle. “You aren’t going anywhere, buddy, except to the choir room.”

  Giles couldn’t stop his whine. “Oh God, hon, no. I’m so fucking tired. I can’t practice anymore.”

  “Christmas with Timothy tradition. Section leaders and whoever we can cram into the room go to a riff-off after the dress rehearsal. Sometimes they have it at the White House, but it’s too cold this year to haul strings.”

  “A riff-off? Are you serious? Karen, sometimes I feel like all we’re doing is alternating between Glee and Pitch Perfect.”

  She rolled her eyes. “For one, we fuck up a lot, which is part of the fun. Mostly it’s to let off tension and community-build before our first big event of the year. There’s pizza too, and usually someone from the White House manages to spike the punch.” When Giles hesitated, Karen leaned in to whisper. “Aaron will be there.”

  Giles blushed from the tips of his hair to the nails of his toes. “I—I—”

  “Come to the riff-off. Flirt with him. Have fun.”

  Of course now he had to go. On the plus side, there really was pizza. No punch, but alongside the two liters of pop were fifths of various whiskeys and rums and vodkas, which Giles skipped because he didn’t need any help behaving foolishly. The room was full of people, choir and orchestra both, and the entirety of both the Ambassadors and Salvo. No professors or administration. Everyone seemed completely unmoved by the fact that they’d just endured a month of grueling practice, a week of finals with more to come in the morning for some people, and a four-hour dress rehearsal.

  Aaron was already there when Giles arrived. His red cheeks said he had hit the booze, but like the night at the lake, drinking relaxed him, making his smile wider. It made him bolder—he glanced at an empty space beside him like he wanted Giles to sit there.

  Giles dropped his coat over the chair before hurrying through the line to get his own food so he could sit down.

  “I don’t understand what’s going on,” he confessed to Aaron as he ate.

  “It’s sort of half-planned and half-spontaneous as far as I can tell.” Aaron wiped at his mouth with a napkin. Giles tried not to stare at his lips. “I know the Ambassadors are opening with a song we’ve done a thousand times. Karen and Jilly were cagey about Salvo’s contribution—and after that it opens to everybody. Sometimes the orchestra people will start, sometimes choir, sometimes it’ll be a mix.”

  “As long as they don’t expect me to sing. I seriously can’t.”

  “You can do plenty of other things. You’ll be fine.”

  The Ambassadors didn’t begin—it was Salvo, singing the arrangement of Imogen Heap’s “Earth” Aaron and Giles had prepared for their audition to Dr. Nussenbaum. They’d taken it above and beyond their original arrangement—clearly they’d been working in secret, because the performance was flawless. He and Aaron both sat with mouths gaping, hearts swelling, as the girls did nothing less than kill it.

  Talk about an opening salvo. Giles was so overcome he had tears in his eyes.

  The applause hadn’t stopped before Karen grabbed him, thrust his violin into his hand and led him into the opening pizz to Allison’s orchestral arrangement of “Dynamite”. Giles stood in the circle with the twelve other orchestra members Karen had drawn forward, working to not lose his place in the song.

  At the second chorus, Baz belted out the vocal line. First the Ambassadors joined in, then Salvo, and pretty soon the entire room was playing along in one way or another. Instead of ending, when Karen led them into a flourish, Damien launched right back into the opening, this time with Marius on synth in the background. When the orchestra joined in, this time they had to play faster and change their instrumentation right there on the spot. They moved around too, which only the violins could do, not the cellos or basses or, God bless, the poor harpist—but Karen danced like the fiddler on the roof in some kind of private and weirdly intense duet with Mina on her viola.

  Giles did his best to keep up, playing harmony beneath them. Somehow he kept ending up next to Aaron.

  There were neve
r more than a few beats between songs—they kept coming until Giles’s arm ached and his body was on fire with music. Every time he tried to sit a song out, someone drew him back in. More than once Aaron played keyboard, and he allowed Giles to be nowhere but beside him, picking up harmonies and filling out melodies.

  Near the end, Baz called out the opening of Owl City’s “I’m Coming After You”, and since Aaron was already at the keyboard, he kept at it. This meant he carried the song, but because he was Aaron, he sang too. The song was difficult to play classically, so Giles switched to fiddle style, which everyone whooped to hear. This was how he ended up squared off in the middle of the room, alone in the center of a circle with Aaron, playing as if the devil were on his heels.

  Which he was in a way, because the whole time Aaron belted lead vocal at him, promising he was chasing Giles down. I’m coming after you.

  Ask him out, Mina mouthed from behind Aaron.

  Aaron sang at Giles, his heart in his eyes, his soul in the music, and Giles fell in love harder than ever. He played his soul right back at Aaron, telling him with song he was the only person Giles wanted to be with, now or ever.

  Giles walked Aaron to his dorm when it was over. Snow had begun to fall, a flurry scattering tiny bits of frozen precipitation across campus, drawing down a silence which enveloped them both and encouraged them to huddle into their coats…and closer to each other.

  “That was pretty fun.” Aaron’s arm brushed Giles’s in an accidentally-on-purpose way as they headed toward Titus. “I wish there were a performance group of orchestra and vocals.”

  “Like the 3 Penny Chorus and Orchestra doing ‘Call Me Maybe’?” When Aaron looked at him quizzically, Giles laughed and whipped out his phone. “Oh my God, seriously? I learned how to rip YouTube audio just for them. Here.” He passed over his phone and fumbled through his pockets. “Let me find my headphones.”

  “Oh—no, I have mine.” Aaron withdrew a small pouch from the inside pouch of his coat. “I’m kind of an audio princess. I have two sets of earbuds and two pairs of studios, wired and wireless. I always have a pair with me.”

  Giles glanced at the Bose label and raised his eyebrows, imagining the sticker total for all four.

  Aaron handed Giles his phone as he slipped the buds into his ears. “Okay—let’s hear this.”

  Giles cued up the song on YouTube. “I’ll send you the song, but the video is how you must experience it first.”

  Aaron didn’t offer Giles an earbud, which he found endearing. Of course an audiophile wouldn’t surrender his stereo sound. Giles watched Aaron take in the video instead, indulging in the excuse to stare at his crush.

  He couldn’t decide if he wanted to stare at Aaron’s eyes or his mouth, so he kept alternating. Aaron’s eyes danced, fixed on the tiny glowing screen, crinkling as he smiled. They were relaxed and easy, lit with the joy they had when Aaron experienced music. Aaron’s mouth was full and ever-so-slightly pouting, parting on silent gasps, pressing back together as he concentrated. The shadow of his late-day stubble only drew more attention to the seam, though it also highlighted the sculpture of his face, the perfect cheekbones, the proportions.

  So out of my league.

  Aaron gasped aloud, startling and glancing up at Giles. “The tenors!”

  Soft blue gaze, pretty mouth, all aimed at Giles—a blow to the chest. Eyes dancing, lit with fire and life that blew away the cold.

  “This is brilliant. Do you think we could do this? Arrange a song for choir and orchestra? Oh my God, I can think of three right off the bat. Of course Baz will try and make us do ‘Titanium’.” Aaron pushed the scroll bar back to the start of the video and cranked the volume. “I have to see this again.”

  Aaron’s blue gaze flitted across the screen, ready to drink in more. Giles, however, was full to overflowing. His emotions swirled like the eddies of snow around them, and eventually they took over.

  “I love you.”

  The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. He seized, unable to breathe for terror. But Aaron gave no sign he’d heard.

  Noise-canceling headphones. Giles breathed out in relief…and disappointment.

  Crazy. It was crazy—but he kept talking.

  “I love you.” This time Giles spoke deliberately, his voice soft as his confession disappeared into the silence of the snow, so quiet the occasional passerby couldn’t hear. “I’m so in love with you I’m sick with it, but I’m afraid to tell you. Which is crazy, because I think you like me too.”

  Aaron kept watching, unaware of a word Giles said. The knowledge made Giles giddy. He kept going.

  “I have to figure out how to take this last step without breaking everything. Because I can’t lose you. Even if I go insane wanting you, I’d rather have this than nothing at all.”

  Still watching the video, Aaron began to softly sing along, lighting the cold air with the first tenor line.

  Giles let out a shuddering breath. “Except I want to kiss you so badly right now I think I might explode.”

  Aaron looked up, blinking. “Did you say something?” He tugged an earbud out, abashed. “Sorry, I can’t hear anything with these in.”

  Giles glanced down at the snow between their feet. “No—just…asking if you enjoyed it.”

  Jesus Christ, I’m such a fucking tool.

  “I loved it. I’m serious, Giles—we have to do this. Maybe we can—” He cut himself off, bit his lip. “I mean, if you’re not too busy over break. We could…get together. And…arrange things.”

  Call me, maybe. Giles’s heart soared, rising until it spread his lips into a smile. “I’d love to.”

  He didn’t kiss Aaron. There were too many people passing by, for one, and also, he wanted to savor that, if it happened.

  When.

  It wouldn’t be their first kiss. But everything about it felt as if it would be their first real kiss.

  After retrieving his phone, Giles drifted to his dorm on a cloud, unable to stop the grin on his face. He stuffed it down long enough to greet Brian—he didn’t want to share, not yet. Once in his bed, though, he drew the covers over his head, shut his eyes and played the moment over and over in his mind, spinning out possible futures.

  I’m going to call you, Aaron. Definitely.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Giles didn’t have a final the day after the riff-off, which meant he slept until Brian returned from his early morning one and got ready to leave for the holiday.

  “Have a good Christmas.” Brian shifted his laundry onto his shoulder and grinned. “Text me if you want to escape the ’rents.”

  “Sure.” Except of course Giles hoped to be busy escaping with Aaron. The memory of the night before bloomed in his mind, waking him better than an alarm.

  Aaron wanted this—maybe not as much as Giles, but he wanted it. All Giles had to do was play it cool, get the courage to act, and he was in.

  The potential literalness of getting in made his shower a lot more erotic than it had a right to be.

  As Giles dressed and headed to the music building, he tried to map out a plan. How should he ask? Should he set up a date for once they got home? Maybe Aaron needed a ride home. Of course that was Sunday. Three days away.

  Could Giles ask him out on a date Sunday but kiss him now?

  Did Giles really think he could stop at kissing?

  These musings, in the end, proved fruitless. No sooner did he arrive at the music building than he got swept up in performance preparations. The first dinners were at six, but the choirs and orchestra had to be on-site at four thirty for warm-ups, and getting Salvo’s instruments and props took all afternoon. Tonight they didn’t leave campus, but Giles never stopped moving. If he wasn’t performing, he was rushing to a performance.

  Through it all, Aaron was right beside him.

  They set up Salvo
together, working with the girls but mostly each other. They returned to their dorms to get dressed, but they fussed with each other’s ties backstage before Aaron’s trio and Giles’s quartet were set to perform at the dinner. They congratulated each other after their performances, hands brushing, fingers teasing as they whispered good job and dazzled each other with smiles.

  I’m going to kiss him tonight, Giles promised himself as he went onto the stage with the orchestra. From where he sat he couldn’t see Aaron, but he imagined him in his mind’s eye throughout the performance, until it was Salvo’s turn and they took their part of the stage together, Giles playing his borrowed double bass, Aaron on keyboard. Their gazes met and held across the stage, so many promises rising up with their songs.

  Tonight. Seriously, it had to be tonight that they kissed.

  Except by the time things wound down, it was eleven, and hauling everything back, getting things ready to pack onto the buses and shuttle vans, dragged things later. The magic bubble which had emboldened Giles popped as he overheard Aaron complaining to Jilly how tired he’d be in the morning when he went for his seven o’clock final.

  Tomorrow. Giles promised himself he’d kiss Aaron tomorrow.

  Friday’s setup was both the same and entirely different. They still had the preshow dinner theater, but Aaron’s and Giles’s groups were at a community center in Burnsville, the full performance after at the megachurch ten miles away. This time packing up began at noon, and though he tried to find Aaron, somehow Giles got shuttled onto a different bus. They didn’t meet up at all until the dress rehearsal, which started late and meant when they finally broke to eat and get dressed, everyone was frantic.

  Giles sat with Aaron at dinner, but they hardly spoke, too busy shoveling in lasagna and salad. They’d dumped their duffels on opposite sides of the men’s changing room because of the buses they’d ridden in on, which was just as well because Giles wasn’t sure he was ready to strip to his skivvies and fight a bow tie as an opening erotic act. He did, though, hustle through his prep so he could cross the room to the choir side and watch Aaron finish getting dressed. Which worked out well, because as Giles approached, Aaron was struggling angrily with his cummerbund.