by Lynn Painter
“Did you know that Michael’s father has a grand piano?” Wes looked down at me from where he’d perched his big self on the back of the sofa and held out a hand to help me up. “It’s upstairs in an acoustically designed room.”
I grabbed his hand and climbed to my feet, and oh sweet Lord, it felt like a Mr.-Darcy-hand-flex-from-the-best-version-of-Pride-&-Prejudice moment. The world stopped spinning for just a second when his big hand wrapped around mine.
But then, just as fast, the spinning returned, and I was face-to-face with Wes and all of my confusion. I looked at his face—and then at Michael, who I hadn’t even noticed until then—and realized they were waiting for a response from me.
To what, again? What was words? How was talk?
“Wow.” Dad. Piano. Room. Got it. “For real?”
“I think he’s convinced he could’ve been a classical pianist if he’d had that room at a younger age.” Michael crossed his arms and said, “He’s obsessed with it.”
“Our Little Liz plays piano.” Wes gave me a look and said to Michael, “She’s really good.”
I said, “No, I’m not—”
Just as Michael said to me, “Do you want to see it?”
I blinked. “I would love to.”
“Well, then, follow me, Miz Liz.”
Michael walked over to the stairs and I followed, but I almost tripped when I glanced behind me and saw that Wes wasn’t coming with us. He was laughing at something Adam was saying, so I took a deep breath and proceeded upstairs, overwhelmed by my thoughts as I climbed the steps.
Was this some sort of a signal? By literally handing me off to Michael, was that his figurative way of handing me off and walking away?
Gosh, it probably would’ve been funny if it were happening to someone else. Here was my beautiful Michael, inviting me—and not Laney—to see a dream-come-true music room, and I just wanted him to go away so I could be with Wes.
Was that okay? I was having trouble keeping up with myself.
How would my mother have written this part? Would she have seen the good in the “bad boy” and twisted the plot?
Dammit.
Stop thinking, Liz.
“Where are your parents?” I cleared my throat and shut down my inner thoughts. “I haven’t seen them in, like, a million years.”
“They went to a movie,” Michael said as he took the stairs two at a time. “But my mom would love to see you.”
When we reached the top of the stairs, he led me to a closed door that looked like it belonged to just another bedroom. He pushed it open, and…
“Oh my God.”
The room had a shiny wood floor, and a thick rug sat underneath the baby grand piano that was turned diagonally on one side of the space. He started telling me about reflection, diffusion, and absorption, about how the decorations in the room were strategically placed for better-quality sound, but I couldn’t listen to him.
That piano was so beautiful. I walked over and sat down on the bench. I wanted to play it—badly—but clearly this was a big deal to his dad, and I was a chump player. Wes liked to act like I was good because I was the only person our age who still took lessons once a week, but I was decent at best.
I loved the piano, though. I loved it so much. I was sure my mom’s obsession with the instrument had something to do with it, but there was also nothing quite like closing my eyes and just losing myself in a song I’d played a hundred times before, tweaking the tempo and passion and listening to see if I could hear the minute differences I’d attempted to create.
“You can play it, Liz,” Michael said, walking over to the door and closing it. “My dad had the room insulated so no one downstairs can hear you playing if the door’s closed.”
“It’s too nice—I can’t.” The black piano didn’t have a speck of dust on it. How was that possible? “And it’s your dad’s instrument—no one else should touch it.”
“He’s been fixing to play it but hasn’t since we moved here—go ahead.”
I pushed back the keyboard cover, cleared my throat, and said, “Prepare to be underwhelmed.”
Michael grinned. “Consider me prepared.”
I smiled and started playing the beginning of Adele’s “Someone Like You,” remembering Wes telling me to add it to our soundtrack after our phone conversation on the night when my nose got smashed.
Michael’s mouth turned up into a grin. “You have it memorized?”
“It’s really easy, actually.” I felt awkward as my fingers ran over the keys. “It’s mostly a four-chord loop. Anyone could play it.”
“Pretty sure I couldn’t.”
My eyes went up to his as he leaned against the piano, looking down at me. He was so handsome, with the same smile he’d first charmed me with in grade school, but I couldn’t stop wondering what Wes was doing downstairs. I was barely into the song when the door flew open and there was everyone… except Wes and Alex.
My hands jumped into my lap, and I felt like the world’s biggest dork. Wes’s friends looked at me, and I’m sure they thought I was a weirdo for playing piano when everyone else was hanging out.
And it was obvious they all hung out a lot, because the entire group just picked up where they’d left off downstairs, talking and laughing like they were best friends.
Laney came over and stood beside the piano, saying to me, “I can’t believe you can play like that.”
“I thought the room was soundproof.”
“It’s insulated.” Michael said it to both me and Laney. “You can’t hear it downstairs, but you can from the hallway.”
“Ah.” I felt silly, seated at that piano.
“Your Adele was awesome.”
“It’s a super easy song.” Like I need your compliments, Laney. “But thanks.”
“It was still great and I’m jealous.” Her eyes moved to Michael where he stood on my right, and her face kind of got prettier as she smiled at him. Maybe it was because my night had gone completely off course, but her expression made me feel a little bad for her. That look on her face, what it said? I could relate.
I told her, “I seriously could teach it to you in an hour. It’s so nothing.”
“Seriously?” She crossed her arms and gave me wide eyes. “You could?”
Wes finally appeared in the doorway, with Alex trailing right behind him, and he said, “We should order a pizza.”
“Ooh—I’m in,” Alex said, and I felt a tightness in my sternum as she smiled at Wes. He looked down at her and smiled right back. He was giving her his best smile, the one that was fun but also warm and happy, and I gritted my teeth as she flipped her hair and asked, “But from where?”
And then—Wes looked at me.
It was fleeting, barely even a glance, but his gaze met mine for a brief second and I felt it in my every nerve ending. What was he doing? Was he still trying to wingman me, after everything?
“Zio’s,” Noah said, and he and the others started following Wes and Alex out of the room and down the stairs. I stared at the empty doorway, unable to think about anything other than Wes and that scorching look and the unfortunate proximity of Alex.
You just ate, Wes—what are you even doing?
Alex was lovely, and I’d thought they’d be a good match when I’d initially heard of her feelings, but now I thought that she was a little too serious for him. I mean sure, she seemed fun enough, but compared to Wes’s total disregard for anything mature, she was a bit stoic.
Besides, Wes and I had had a moment downstairs, dammit.
Right? Or had I imagined it?
“You say the word ‘pizza’ and the room clears.”
I jumped when Michael spoke. I hadn’t even realized he was still there.
I smiled and casually stood. “Who doesn’t love pizza, right?
He gestured to the hallway. “Do you want to go get in on that?”
“Um, no, thanks.” I shook my head, not wanting to follow Wes, especially if he was canoodling with Alex
. “Wes and I went to Stella’s before we got here and I’m still full.”
“That’s right—he told me you were getting dinner before you came.”
“Yeah.”
“He also told me that things were more friend-y with you two and he’s thinking about asking Alex out.”
I tried to look like I didn’t care. I smiled over the heavy feeling in my stomach and said, “Yeah, he’s right. He totally should—she seems great.”
“Yeah. Apparently he’s sick of being stuck in your friend zone so he’s moving on.”
“Finally.” I rubbed my lips together and focused on Michael’s blue eyes. This is what you wanted. Starting anything with Wes would be bad, bad news. Eyes on the prize, girl. “I didn’t want things to get weird, so this is really good.”
“Probably.”
“Um, when did he tell you that?” Days ago, please. “About Alex?”
“When we were in the kitchen.”
“Ah.” I looked at the piano keys and swallowed, and it felt like there was something stuck in my throat. I mean, it was exactly what we’d planned for Wes to say, so there was no reason for me to feel unsettled by this, right?
Michael’s phone made a noise, bringing me out of my daze. He looked down at the message, sighed, and then put his phone back in his pants pocket.
“Um—are you okay?” I asked, because his anxious face looked the same as it had back in grade school when he’d dropped his favorite Boggle game on the sidewalk and all the little letter pieces had bounced into the bushes. He’d always been the kind of person to stress about every little thing.
Except—dear Lord—I knew nothing about Michael now. At all. I knew he spoke with a Southern drawl and had good hair—that’s all. Sure, the Michael I knew in elementary school liked bugs and books and being kind, but what did I know about him today? I knew Wes a thousand times better than Michael, and I was kind of starting to adore that next-door neighbor of mine.
Shit.
What was I even doing in this room with Michael?
He fingered the sharp keys, staring at the piano. He pressed his index finger down on the middle C and said, “It’s this whole thing with Laney and prom.”
My body’s innate response to the name “Laney” was to jump for joy when it was said in a less-than-positive tone. But now I couldn’t muster up the emotion. I asked, “Are you guys going? I didn’t know. I mean, I heard you were talking. But, y’know…”
I trailed off, not wanting to seem like I knew all the gossip.
“Well, no. I mean, no, we’re not going yet.” He sighed yet again. “See, we have been talking, and Laney’s wonderful. But on the day I met her, her boyfriend had just broken up with her. Literally. I met her because she was outside crying.”
“Oh.” I had no idea who she’d dated, but it was kind of hard to believe that Laney Morgan got dumped.
“So I have no idea what’s going on in her head. I don’t want to move too fast if she isn’t ready, and I especially don’t want to start something if she’s still hung up on her ex.”
I felt a little bad for him because I could totally empathize. Wanting something but being unsure if you’re able to have it? Or if it’s safe to have? Yeah, I got that. And now that I knew how I actually felt, the new, enlightened, emotionally honest Liz wanted to help Michael with Laney, give him some kind of advice.
But at the same time, I wanted to leave this conversation and bolt downstairs to find Wes before Alex started wearing him like a shirt. I said, “Can’t you ask her to prom as a friend and see where it goes?”
“I could.” He played with the keys a little more. “But prom should mean something. Maybe it’s the Texas bigness I’m used to, but to me, it’s about the promposal and dinner and flowers and more. Is that silly?”
I snorted a laugh. “Oh my God, no—think about who you’re talking to here.”
He looked up and grinned.
“That’s right. Little Liz,” I said, and pointed to myself and rolled my eyes. “I feel the exact same way. I’m supposed to go with Joss, and I’m sure it’ll be fun, but I’m with you. That’s not how I’ve always daydreamed senior prom would be.”
I pictured Wes’s face, and my hands felt hot. I shook them out and said, “The more I think about it, the more I don’t want to settle. I want the possibility of more, even if it doesn’t work out. I want to take the chance for a magical night, because even if it flops, I can at least have a date with possibility instead of a friend.”
He tilted his head a little and smiled at me. “You might have a point, Liz.”
“I know I do.” I was getting worked up at the thought of going to prom with Wes. Someone needed to douse me with cold water, fast. Because suddenly it felt like it was all I’d ever wanted. “Trust me when I tell you that sometimes the person with the most ‘magical night possibility’ is the last person you’d expect. Sometimes there can be someone you’ve known forever, yet never really noticed.”
God, I wished I’d noticed sooner. My brain was spewing out little montages of Wes and me—in the Secret Area, at Stella’s, on the way home from the party…
How had I not noticed sooner?
“I think I know what you mean,” Michael said, staring at me intensely, and alarm bells started going off in my head. I wasn’t sure why he was looking at me like that, but now definitely wasn’t the time.
Adam popped his head in the doorway and said, “We need you guys. We’re doing team Cards Against Humanity.”
“Yes!” I shouted my response, thrilled to be interrupted.
Adam tilted his head and gave me a What’s-the-matter-with-you grin, and Michael was still eyeballing me. I cleared my throat and tried to recover, saying with a casual look, “I mean, count me in.”
“I’ve never played that on teams,” Michael said, giving me a weird look.
“Me either,” I agreed, anxious to find Wes.
“We’re only playing teams because Alex wants to pair up with Wes.” Adam gave me a look of commiseration, like we were of the same opinion, and I wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. “She says it’s more fun that way, but I’m pretty sure she just wants to share a chair with him.”
“Well, let’s do it.” Michael gave me a nice smile, but it did nothing for me. At all. It just reminded me that I needed to get down to that card game before Alex ended up with my happy ending.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“He had kissed her long and good. We got banned from the pool forever that day, but every time we walked by after that, the lifeguard looked down from her tower, right over at Squints, and smiled.”
—The Sandlot
“Thank God we parked close.” Wes started the car and turned on the windshield wipers as the rain pounded down. “We would’ve been drenched if we’d been a second later.”
My heart was beating in my neck. The inside of the dark car felt intimate against the roaring storm, and I was wholly unsettled. Since the moment I’d realized the way I truly felt about Wes, I’d been overwhelmed with a sort of panicked need to tell him. To make sure he knew before Alex got comfortable on him. “For sure.”
“Sorry about my sketchy friends.”
“Nah—it’s cool.” He was referring to the fact that his friends had played Cards Against Humanity for about five minutes before deciding they all wanted to go along when Noah got the pizza. I’m fairly certain I was smiling maniacally when Alex climbed into the minivan. “I was supposed to go home as soon as the movie ended, anyway.”
“Yeah, what’s with that? You’re months away from leaving for college, but your dad’s still all over your business. Is he a smidge overprotective, maybe?”
He looked over his shoulder before putting the car in drive and pulling onto the street, and the new song from Daphne Steinbeck—“Dark Love”—was starting on the radio. It was slow and heavy on the sexy building beat, and I considered switching the station because it felt like too much.
It was too perfect.
I s
aid, “Big-time. Even though he’s moved on with his life, he never forgets about my mother’s accident and the fact that sometimes the things that seem unlikely to happen in life do actually happen.”
“Wow.” He glanced over at me. “Pretty tough to argue over that one, eh?”
“I don’t even bother.”
The rain intensified, and Wes switched the windshield wipers to full speed. He pulled out slowly onto Harbor Drive, the busy street that ran parallel to Michael’s neighborhood, and the bright, multicolored lights from the businesses lining the road were completely blurred by the downfall. I leaned forward, cranked the defroster, and said as casually as I could, “So Alex, huh? You’re going to ask her out?”
“Did Michael say that?” He craned his neck closer to the windshield, taking his time as we neared an intersection. The stoplight switched to green, and he accelerated when the cars at the cross street all came to a stop. All clear, we got back up to speed, but in the distance I saw a Jetta zip out of a gas station and onto the road in front of the Suburban we were following entirely too closely and—
“Car!” I braced myself for impact as the brake lights in front of us glowed bright red through the drenched and foggy window. Wes’s tires tried to stop on the wet pavement, but the brakes locked, and we were going to slam into that Suburban.
Wes steered the car to the right, throwing us up and over what might’ve been a curb, and then we were headed for something very green. It looked like a forest.
“Shitshitshitshit,” he chanted as he attempted to control the car. His foot mashed on the brake, but as the headlights lit up the steep, muddy slope in front of us, we just kept moving down that hill and toward the trees. We were going to hit a tree—there was no way we weren’t—and I said a prayer as fast as I could while my heart pounded.
He jerked the wheel again, and as soon as he did, I felt a huge bump, like we’d hit something, and I worried the car was going to flip over.
But it lurched to a stop instead.
I looked over at Wes, and his face was flushed like he’d just come back from a run. We were both breathing hard as thunder continued to pound, the rain slapped on the roof of the truck, and the radio still played “Dark Love.” “Did that just happen?”
