Henry sipped on his milkshake as he listened to Jamie explain her conversation with Mr. Nelson.
"So, basically, he's not gonna say shit, right?"
"Right," she assured leaning against the window at their table.
"What did he say about, ya know?"
"He apologized," she mumbled, fiddling with the straw of her drink. "I told him to forget it even happened."
"Whhhhhhyyyyyyyy," he whined. "P," he put emphasis on the name given that night, "is a daddy. You and I both know that."
"Henry," she shot back. "He's my teacher. Now, stop it."
"He may be a teacher, but that man is a fine cup of tea," Henry smirked. "Only if he was gay," he pouted. "You know I'd be all over his pogo stick."
"Henry!"
"What," he huffed. "I can't dream?" Jamie dipped a curly fry in ranch dressing before tossing it in her mouth, while Henry eyed her in disgusted. "That's just nasty."
"Oh shut up," she threw a crumb at him.
"But anyway, about homecoming. It's in two weeks," Henry playfully glared at her. "We're going."
"No."
Henry rolled his eyes, as he tilted his head towards the ceiling. "Why not? It's senior year and we've never gone."
"You could have gone without me," she shrugged.
"I'm not gonna go without my best friend," he explained, with a roll of his eyes. "It wouldn't be right."
Jamie glanced at her friend, dipping his straw in and out of the chocolate shake. Although she knew it wasn't intentional, she felt as though she was being guilt tripped.
With a heavy sigh, she asked, "What color did you want to wear?"
Henry screeched, as he clapped his hands. "Have I told you how much I appreciate you lately?"
"Nope, but you need to start. I'm digging into my college savings for this mess."
"Girl, boo," he waved his hand. "You know you're set for college and anything after."
"Maybe," she dug through her bag, retrieving a thick envelope, before tossing it on the table. "Thinking about going here."
Berklee College of Music
Henry peered at the material. "Berklee? You gonna go all the way to Boston?"
Jamie shrugged, chewing on another fry. "Depends on how the audition goes."
"Well, when is it?"
"February," she chuckled.
Henry snatched a fry from her plate, launching it in her face. "Girl, you made it seem like it's close as hell. You got time to practice, as if you don't do that all the time already."
Time. Jamie's eyes widened as she pulled out her cellphone. 3pm. "We gotta go. I have to pick up, Devin."
Walking to the house two doors down from her duplex, she could hear the commotion of various children from the neighborhood. She knocked a few times until Ms. Joyce, allowed her entry.
"Hey, Jamie," the elderly heavy set woman stood to the side. "C'mon in. Devin's asleep in the living room."
Jamie made her way into the large living room. On a pallet, curled up in a ball was her cousin, sucking on his thumb.
"I keep trying to get him to stop that," Joyce groaned. "Boy gon' have bucked teeth."
Jamie chuckled at the statement. "I try to get him to stop too. This is gonna be a team effort Ms. Joyce."
"I know that's right."
Jamie lightly shook her little cousin. "Deeeevvvin," she cooed. "Deevvviiin." Devin slowly rubbed his eyes, before turning away from her. "C'mon, little man."
Jamie snaked her arm underneath to pick up the three year old.
"You got 'em?" Joyce asked, watching Jamie secure him on her hip.
Jamie nodded as Ms. Joyce grabbed Devin's daily sheet. "He's been good today," she informed her. "Just been a bit of a sleepyhead. Everything okay at the house?"
"Everything is good, Ms. Joyce. Thanks for asking." Jamie smiled. "See ya, tomorrow?"
"See ya, tomorrow."
Walking down the block, Jamie tickled Devin's neck. "Wake up, buddy," she cooed. "Ya gotta get up."
Devin nuzzled into her neck. "No, JJ."
"I guess I don't have to make any fish and French fries?" She spoke in shock.
"French fries," he softly sighed. "I want French fries."
"Well, you gotta stay awake, buddy," she encouraged him, hoping French fries was enough to keep him awake for a few hours.
Fortunately, it did.
By 9:30, he was sound asleep for the night. As for Jamie, she sat in her room playing her piano. Headphones in. Her favorite soundtrack filling her ears.
Hearing the first few sections of the song, she paused the track, taking a stab at finding the notes. Playing by ear, was always her preference to her favorites. In fact, it's how she started.
Reading music, never happened until her sophomore year when her instructor took notice that she couldn't.
An hour into her late night jam, her door creaked open. "JJ," the little man yawned.
Jamie snatched out the headphones, before turning around on the stool. "Hey buddy," she cooed. "Did I wake you up?"
Devin slowly shook his head, stumbling towards her. "Monsters..."
"Oh, buddy," she scooped him into her arms. "I told ya, there's no such thing as monsters." She reminded him. "Buuuut since you're already here, do wanna stay with me and we'll check for the monsters in the morning?"
As promised, before they began their morning routine, Jamie checked his bedroom and closets for any of terrorizing creatures.
See, I told ya," she smiled as she looked under the bed. "No monsters."
"Da monsters come at night."
"We'll check again tonight. Now, let's get ready for school."
The school day flew passed in what seemed like an instant. Here's it was 5th period lunch. With her best friend in another lunch period, she returned to doing what she had previously since freshman year.
With her bag on her shoulder, and lunch in hand she entered the music room.
Empty.
Perfect.
She placed her belongings in her usual corner. Then began to sift through the school lunch.
"This bullshit..." she grumbled, lifting the bun off of the burger. Yuck. She began to inspect the fries. "Guess these will do."
She snatched up the container of fries and her bottle of water before tossing the rest of the food in the trash.
Glancing up at the clock, she realized she had a whole 35 minutes until her class would begin.
Stuffing a few fries in her mouth, she stared at the piano. The desire to play causing her to take her place on the bench. Sitting the fries and drink beside her, her fingers met the familiar keys.
With little effort, she allowed the music to take over. The energy running through her fingers as they moved across the keys.
Finishing, she rambled in her pockets for her phone. She needed to find something else to play.
"I told you once, I'll tell it again," his baritone flowed from across the room. "You're growing grasshoppa."
"Thanks, Mr. Miyagi," she mumbled, running through the music selection. Peering over at the figure who strut over to his desk, she throw a command. "Gimme a musician."
"Huh?"
"Name an artist. Just anyone..."
He glanced at her momentarily, before focusing on the papers. "You were playing 2Pac earlier right? Hmm, let me hear you."
Jamie placed her hands on the piano, ready to share her music, when something clicked. She peered over at the minuscule man.
"Nice try," she smirked.
"At least I know one thing," he pointed.
Jamie cocked a brow. "And that is?"
"You. Have music. That I. Need. To hear."
Jamie smiled somberly with a shake of her head. "I'm not ready to share anything anytime soon, Mr. Nelson."
"Right," a small smile was thrown her way. "Well, we got 30 minutes to jam. And I see..." he looked around the room. "You didn't bring the guitar."
"Fuck," she quickly slapped her hand over her mouth. "Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to say that."
He leaned back in a fit of giggles. "It's cool. I been waiting for those loose lips to sink ships. Didn't think it'd take three years though."
Jamie furrowed her brows, "Loose lips to sink ships. The heck was that dude?" She scanned over his outfit. "And what are you wearing?"
"Oh," he looked down at himself. "This look is called, I'm doing me." He slowly waved her over. "C'mere and check this out."
He removed the case from his back, setting it on top of the desk.
"This here is one of my babies." Opening the case, he revealed a purple Taylor guitar.
Removing the instrument from its confines, Jamie placed the case besides the desk.
He cradled the guitar in his lap as he sat on top of his desk. Once comfortable, his fingers danced along the neck of the acoustic guitar.
"So you think showcasing your fancy guitar skills is going to make me forget that you didn't send that song last night?" She sighed, watching him play.
He suddenly stopped, shrugging. "Maybe." He held the guitar to her. "Show me something."
"Mr. Nelson," she stepped away. "I..."
"C'mon. I've been watching you on the piano for forever. This is long overdue. Show me what you been doing at home this past year..."
Jamie hesitantly wrapped her hand around the neck of the guitar. She sat Indian style in his "comfy" desk chair, as he sat upon the desk, facing her.
Being a lefty and only being given right handed guitars, she flipped the instrument upside down. As difficult as it may have been, she learned to play with the strings upside down. Giving him one more glance, she began to strum.
Jamie sat quietly, mentality scolding herself for every moment of hesitation. It was nowhere near as good as his own musicianship. "It's not quite finished," she mumbled, attempting to save face.
"I'd like to hear it once it's completed."
The tone of his voice hinted at something. He definitely felt a certain way about her performance. Still, she nodded, silently thanking him. As her eyes locked on him, she took her time studying him.
"You know your eyes change colors," she breathed. "They're a bit greener today." Shaking her head, she snapped out of the sudden trance. "Sorry, I didn't mean to stare."
"It's okay," he murmured. It was now his turn to appear in a trance, watching as she cowered in front of him.
Reaching out to her he lifted her lowered head. "Hey," his voice made her insides quiver. "Don't do that. You have no reason to be shy in front of me. We're better than that. At least I thought we were."
"We are."
"Good," he smiled. "Now, play it again. Play it the way you do when you're alone."
Jamie gazed at him, looking for something. For anything.
"Don't ever second guess yourself. Alright?" His left hand touched her right that remained wrapped around the neck of the guitar. "These hands just showed me the beauty it can conjure up."
Her cheeks burned from his words, her gaze falling to the floor. "Thank y--"
His fine hand cradled her chin, bringing her eyes to meet his own. "What'd I say, Jamie? You can do that with anyone else, but not in front of me."
"Okay," she nodded in understanding. "But tell me, are you going to send that song or nah? I've been thinking about it all night. Plus, I just shared something with you, so I held up my end of the bargain."
Mr. Nelson fell back on his desk, his body shaking as he laughed. "Jamie, Jamie, Jamie..."
"Send it. Send it. Send it," she chanted. "Whenever that song hits my email, I'll stop bothering you. Until then, get ready to be harassed about it. Every. Single. Day."
"Okay, okay," he playfully shouted. "I'll send it."
"When?"
"Whenever I feel ready," he countered, sitting up to face her.
Jamie shrugged. "Alright. Just remember. Every. Single. Day. Before and after class. Trust me. It can get ugly, Mr. Nelson."
"I'm up for anything, Jamie."