Broken String

VII

"Hey." he says as he approaches the drab brown table where Anna is beaming at him, a cup of coffee already in place for him. He manages a smile as he sits down. God, he hopes she can't see the tears from just now, still etched into his eyes. 
"Hey! How did your lesson go?"
"I played Pag four. Any guesses you'd like to make on how it went?"
Her eyes open wider. 
"Pag four. Are you insane?"
"Apparently, yes. I thought I'd give it a go for the competition. A Paganini caprice is obligatory, I figured go big or go home. Now I'm not so sure. Anyway, how is... what was his name, Alan?"
He knows this will change the topic. Anna is what you'd call a serial monogamist. He's never known her not to have a boyfriend for more than about a week, but her relationships never seem to last more than a few months. True to form she shakes her head and rolls her eyes. 
"I don't know. Haven't heard from him since Saturday."
"What happened on Saturday?" he asks. Not because he really wants to know, right now. But Anna picks up straight away. 
"It was cool! We went to see a stupid movie, then... you know. Home."
He grins. He's pretty sure he does know. 
"Lucky Alan. What movie, though? Did you take him to some chick flick?"
"Yeah, bridges of Madison County. No, what do you take me for?" Her voice flies upwards in faux indignation. "Some action shit, of course. I'm not an idiot, you know."
He grins again, because he feels a little lighter. Yeah, Anna is good at cheering people up. 
"Well, then I have no idea why he's not been in touch. Maybe he's the idiot."
"That's what I'm going with." she says, picks up her latte and takes a deep sip. "Anyway. There will be a student concert and I want to play this Sarasate duet. You think you could do it with me?"
"Um... when is it?" he says as his heart starts racing in his chest. 
Oh, Eddy is well aware that just two months ago he would have been chomping at the bits. He probably wouldn't even have asked when it was, he just would have said yes. He loves Sarasate. But now... when will he find the time to practise?
"Couple of weeks? We could rehearse next week?"
"Sure! Mail me the score?" he says, before he can think, before he can tell her no, I'm too fucking busy, find someone else. Ask Brett. Or any of the umpteen other violinists in their year. 
"Consider it mailed. You're playing second, of course."
He shakes his head in mock surprise. 
"Colour me shocked."
"Will do. In green. Anyway, I have to run. Enjoy your coffee."

He sits for a long moment, staring at her back, retreating through the glass doors, then at the space it occupied. What the hell was he thinking? Something else he needs to practise? Why the fuck did he say yes to this duet?
And he knows he could app her now, say on second thought he just really doesn't have the time. But he doesn't want to. He knows she wants to play it with him, and she's a good friend. 
So he doesn't want to let her down. 
He picks up his violin case with a sigh and starts towards the reception desk in search of yet another practice room. 
But he's going home early, today, he's promising himself that right this second. He's just going to practise for an hour, maybe two, and then he'll go home, make some mapu tofu, hopefully watch a movie with Brett, play some smash bros, go to bed on time, sleep for once. 
God, he hopes Brett wants to watch that movie. He could do with the relaxation.

He really could. And so could his heart.