Tara Kelly - Harmonic Feedback

Tears burned in my eyes. “I don’t know what I did.” I turned away, hoping she couldn’t see them. “I thought we were friends.”

“So did I,” she said. “And the sad part is, I was this close to pounding her face in before class. But I couldn’t do it. She’s so pathetic. I fucking pity her.”

All I could do was nod. The money didn’t matter. Naomi took my music. The one thing I couldn’t stand to be without. She knew that.

Kari said something else, but her words didn’t register. She stood up, staring at me expectantly. “Right, well, see ya.”

I sat in my sweaty gym clothes, unable to move. My teeth clenched together, and I gripped the sides of the bench. At that moment, I wanted to push Naomi to the ground and tell her what a disappointment she was. A selfish, stupid girl.

I threw my lunch box against the lockers, watching it explode open and fall to the floor. One of the pennies twirled for a few seconds. Almost like it was laughing at me. I crushed it with my foot and left the box where it fell. She might as well take it all. She obviously needed it a lot more than I did.

Justin asked where my lunch box was after film class. I didn’t want to talk about it. He put his hand over mine when we got into his car.

“Will seeing my Bösendorfer cheer you up?” he asked.

I nodded. “Will your family be there?”

“My sister will be. She wants to meet you.”

I stared out the window. Justin playing a real piano. It sounded like the perfect date, minus the whole meeting-strangers bit.

“Is Naomi coming to practice tomorrow?” he asked.

I shook my head and bit down on my tongue. Just hearing her name made me shrivel inside. We went up to Magnolia Street instead of Holly.

He looked over at me when we hit a red light. “What happened, Drea?”

I watched a group of skateboarders collide in a Quickie Mart parking lot. One of them had purple hair like Naomi. No matter where I looked, I couldn’t get away from her. Or the sick feeling lurking in my stomach. So I told Justin, hoping he’d have some magical answer.

He didn’t. We rode in silence until we pulled up in front of his house. It was a small, one-story deal on the south side of town. White paint. Black shutters. I guess it kind of fit him.

He gave me a long hug after we got out. We stood on his curb for a while, barely moving.

“What did I do wrong?” I asked.

He kissed the top of my head. “Speed makes people crazy. When I did it, I loved the world one minute and hated it the next. I had no control over what I did or said sometimes—at least it felt that way. Sometimes I wanted to tear everything apart.” He backed away from me. “Naomi likes you, despite what she said. Chances are she won’t even remember tomorrow. That’s the fucked-up part.”

“But I’ll remember.”

“Come on,” he whispered, pulling me down a long driveway. It led to a white structure that I assumed was the garage. But he unlocked the side door and let me in first.

A shiny black piano was the first thing to greet me. It loomed in front of us in all its statuesque glory, itching to be played. The cement floor was covered with large rugs. The kind with kaleidoscopic patterns. Shelves of CDs and books framed the room, and a queen-sized bed with tousled blue sheets sat in the corner.

“Reminds me a little of my basement.”

“Yeah. It was the garage, but my brother-in-law renovated it. It’s not quite finished yet.” He motioned to the floor. “They’re renting it out to me.”

I walked toward the piano and admired the pristine keys. “They didn’t want to park in it?”

He brushed past me and sat on the bench. “They want to turn it into an art studio—eventually.”

I scanned the black-and-white photographs lining the walls. They were images of odd things like bridge beams, rusty barns, alleyways, random body parts, and melted ice cream. “I didn’t know you were into photography.”

He looked around the room and shrugged. “I didn’t go anywhere without a camera my freshman year. But I haven’t taken any in a while.”

“You should start up again. I like them.” I bit my lip. It was weird being alone with him in his space. Yet somehow my problems stayed outside his door. I felt safe in here.

He smiled at me. “I’d like to. Have a seat anywhere. I’ll play you something.”

I had to decide between a black beanbag and the bed. The beanbag was closer and just my size.

He began playing as my body melted into the Styrofoam. The acoustics in the garage weren’t half bad. It almost felt like we were in a mini concert hall. His notes inched through my skin and warmed me to the bone. He wasn’t kidding. The difference between a real piano and my crappy midi was astronomical. I would’ve been embarrassed if I wasn’t so taken in by the melody swirling around me. This song was white and silver with a touch of red for the harder notes.

I curled up on the bag, closing my eyes. The only thing missing was Naomi’s voice. But I put the thought aside and got lost in my daydreams. Most of them involved kisses, nature hikes, and traveling to unknown destinations. Maybe in a clunky tour bus.

“Hey,” he said after two songs. “Did I put you to sleep?”

I opened my eyes and nearly laughed at his pout. “No, you took me somewhere else.”

He walked over and kneeled in front of me. “Want to tell me about it?”

I shook my head. “It’s a secret.”

He leaned over and kissed me. We’d made out almost every day, and I liked it more every time. Even the sore lips and the dehydration. But our clothes stayed on, and his hands avoided my chest area. Part of me really wanted to do more, and another part was terrified of it. What if I hated how it felt? What if he hated how I felt? I barely had boobs, compared to most girls.

Justin pulled back and sat on his heels. “We should go say hi to my sister.”

I got up and attempted to smile. Obviously, I didn’t do a good job because he touched my cheek and told me not to worry. His sister trusted his judgment.

The main house had pumpkin-colored walls and smelled like apples. Justin led me through the entranceway and into the kitchen. A woman took silverware out of the dishwasher and placed it in a drawer, and a dark-haired little girl frantically colored something at the kitchen table.

The woman looked up at me, smiling. She had Justin’s eyes and high cheekbones, but honey-blond hair. I figured it was dyed due to the darker locks underneath.

“Drea, this is my sister, Nicci.” He motioned to me. “Nicci, this is Drea—my girlfriend.”

“Hi.” He’d said girlfriend . It gave me a fluttery feeling, but a good one. At least I thought it was.

“It’s really good to meet you. I’ve heard you are quite the talented producer,” she said.

“Thank you. I mean, it’s good to meet you too.” I clenched my hands into balls. Why was I thanking her for hearing something?

“You guys sticking around for dinner?” Nicci asked.

Justin nudged me. “Don’t worry. My sister is a decent cook.”

“Decent? Oh, whatever, Mister I Blackened My Toast This Morning and Set Off the Smoke Alarm.” She laughed, showing a set of dimples. She looked younger than I thought she’d be. No more than twenty-five.

“Hey”—he held his hands up—“someone changed the setting.”

“Likely story.” Nicci walked over to the little girl and peered over her shoulder.

“I’d like to stay,” I said.

“I want you to meet someone else too.” Justin took my hand, leading me toward the table. “This is my niece, Madison.”

Madison drew spirals with a purple crayon. She hummed a soft note with each circle. Justin sat on one side of her, and I took the other.