Tara Kelly - Harmonic Feedback

Justin took my free hand, his fingers sliding over mine and pressing them to the keys. My other hand twitched. I hit G-sharp instead of G.

He used my fingertips to play the notes. For a few moments I felt like a real piano player lost in my own creation. It was incredible. And I didn’t want it to stop.

I leaned on him, letting his warmth draw me closer. His breath hit my cheek. My heart beat faster. I tilted my face up, and his lips met mine. Our hands slid off the keyboard and his fingers inched up my forearms. I had no idea what to do, or if I was even doing it right.

His mouth pressed into mine, parting my lips softly. My skin felt weird. Hot all over and sensitive to every movement.

I pulled back and opened my eyes. “I don’t think I’m doing this right.”

He smiled and ran his fingers through my hair. “The piano or the kiss?”

“Both.”

“Do you want to stop?”

I looked at the faint freckle on his upper lip and the gold flecks in his eyes. “You’re really beautiful,” I said before shaking my head. “God, that probably sounded stupid.”

He touched his nose to mine. “So are you.”

His soft lips pressed into mine again, and I closed my eyes, kissing him back. His arm muscles tensed with my touch, and his breaths grew heavier. I was afraid the spit thing would gross me out, but I didn’t mind it. It made him real. It made this real.

He pulled me closer and kissed my jaw, moving down my neck. His mouth found a spot behind my ear that sent tickles down my spine. The feeling was almost too intense to take.

And then the door upstairs swung open. “Andrea?” Grandma called. “Dinner is ready.”

We pulled apart. I wiped my lips with the back of my hand, wondering if they’d look kissed somehow. Justin sat up straighter and put one hand on the keyboard.

Grandma’s sharp eyes went from me to Justin when she reached the bottom step. “Where’s Naomi?”

“She went home,” I said.

“Oh.” Her eyes rested on Justin again. “What are you two doing down here?”

“Justin was teaching me how to play piano.”

“Don’t you have homework to do?”

“I finished most of it at school.”

“Well, come on, then. It’s getting cold.” She headed back up the steps, leaving the door open. “Juliana!”

I tucked my hair behind my ear and stared hard at my hands. They were still shaking. “Um, sorry. You should probably go, but…”

He moved closer to me again. “But?”

“I don’t really want you to.”

Grandma yelled for my mom again.

“What?” Mom asked. It sounded like they were moving into the kitchen.

“Andrea is down there alone. With that boy.” Even my grandma’s whispers carried.

“Oh, for Christ sake, Mom. So what?”

The corner of Justin’s mouth curved up, but he covered it.

“Go ahead and laugh,” I said. “My grandma is a freak.”

“I’m sorry if I got you in trouble,” he said.

Mom jogged down the stairs before I could answer. She grinned when she caught me smoothing my hair back. “Hey, Justin.”

He smiled and waved at her.

“Sorry about my mom,” she said. “She doesn’t mean to be rude. She’s just—”

“It’s cool,” he said, glancing at me. “I get it.”

“You’re welcome to stay for dinner.”

He studied my face before answering. “Sure, okay. Thanks.”

Mom winked at me before turning around and heading back upstairs. My face burned.

“My grandma’s cooking is really bad. I mean, like mushy vegetables and stuffed pork chops bad.”

Justin put his hand over mine, tangling our fingers together. “I grew up with a bad cook, remember? I can handle it.”

I twirled my spoon in Grandma’s version of vegetable stew. This included no salt, gravy like water, and a bitter aftertaste. She’d chosen twelve-grain bread as a side dish. It was untoasted and stale around the edges.

Grandma discussed the art of grocery store coupons with Mom, while Justin and I took turns kicking and dodging each other’s feet. My stomach fluttered every time I caught his eye.

“I warned you,” I said, motioning to his barely touched stew.

He put a finger to his mouth and shook his head.

“That’s a nice car you have out there, Justin,” Grandma said. “Are you going to pay your parents back for it?”

He swallowed a chunk of potato. “It was a birthday gift.”

“How about some salt?” Mom asked, frowning at the stew.

“You’re past forty now,” Grandma said. “Menopause is right around the corner. Sodium is the last thing you need.”

Justin used that moment to wipe his mouth, but his eyes crinkled at the corners.

“Your candor is always appreciated, Mother.” She rolled her eyes and grabbed the salt from the cabinet.

Grandma nodded at Justin. “Who pays for your insurance?”

“I do.”

“How old are you—sixteen?”

“Seventeen.”

“Your rates must be sky high.” She then launched into a lecture about the auto industry and insurance rates. Grandma loved to educate people about money, even though she’d always been a homemaker.

Justin smiled and nodded like he was interested the entire time. It was pretty impressive. Usually I left the room after about two minutes.

“Nobody cares,” I said finally. Anything to stop her from squawking for a few seconds.

Grandma jabbed her finger at me. “You’ll care when you start paying for it.”

“She has a point,” Justin said to me, knocking his foot into mine.

“Let’s see. No license. Not exactly a pressing matter at the moment.”

“It will be soon,” he said.

“How’s she doing?” Mom asked, salting her stew for the fourth time.

“Really well. We drove around downtown yesterday. Maybe we’ll try the freeway this weekend.”

I nearly choked on a bite of bread. “Do you have a death wish?”

Mom chuckled. “Just don’t drive like Grandma and you’ll be fine.”

Justin crinkled his brow at me, and I laughed. “Grandma knows two speeds,” I said. “Zero and eighty.”

He raised his eyebrows at her, puckering his lips. “Nice.”

Grandma shook her head. “I’ve never gotten a ticket.” She snatched her bowl from the table and rinsed it in the sink.

Then Justin offered to do the dishes for some ungodly reason.

“Why are you being so nice to my grandma?” I asked, walking him to his car twenty minutes later. The cool wind painted my arms with goose bumps.

“I had about two bites of her stew—or whatever that was. I felt bad.”

“She would’ve made me do the dishes anyway. It’s not like you were saving her the trouble.”

He leaned against the driver’s door of his car. “Then you’re welcome.”

I glanced at the dim lights of Naomi’s house. Her father’s SUV wasn’t in the driveway. “I hope Naomi’s dad didn’t let her down this time.”

“Does he do that a lot?”

I told him about meeting her dad and what Naomi said afterward. “She really scared me last weekend.”

Justin shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded. “You’re a good friend. I wish I’d had someone like you back home.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

He gave me a soft smile. “Just keep being you.”

“That doesn’t help much.”

“Do you want me to talk to her?”

“What would you say?”

He shrugged. “I think I can relate to where her head is at right now. And it doesn’t seem like she has anyone to talk to about it. Look at the lyrics she wrote.”

“She has me.”

Justin shifted his weight. “Yeah, but you’re so…”

I folded my arms across my stomach. “Clueless?”

“I was going to say levelheaded. Naomi’s in a place that’s hard to understand unless you’ve been there, and I think she knows that.” He looked toward her driveway. “She may not even want to talk to me. But I’ll try.”