Post by Dabeagle on Oct 2, 2015 14:05:28 GMT -5
When Elliot was originally created, he was partially based on the You Tube performer Elliot Spenner. By the time he was introduced and paired with Devyn Kennedy, we already had a few other stories in the can and Ryan was starting what would be come 'Bunny'. Having recently completed 'Asher', Ryan was convinced he needed to write something 'gritty', and Bunny was the result. Ryan and I both felt that the characters speak to us when telling their stories - which is evident in how they can take the story over and the story takes directions you never considered. When Ryan finished 'Bunny' he felt that Griffin was talking to him and Ryan was feeling more and more that he wanted to give him a happy ending - in fact he frequently wanted that for all his characters, which is something I usually do as well.
As Ryan wrote the sequel, he began to beg me for the use of Devyn, to pair him with Griffin. I admit, I was never completely sold on it. I kept asking him - what about Elliot? Ryan felt that Elliot wasn't well developed and could easily be shed, sort of the way Cole was with regards to Hamster. I wasn't so sure, in fact I liked Elliot. Ryan asked if I had plans to write them and I admitted I didn't - but that didn't mean something wouldn't come to me later. As it was, I grudgingly let Devyn and Elliot part ways and, by way of compensation, he wrote 'Last Gasp of Winter'. I was never a big Colby fan, and before he started on 'Last Gasp' I had begun my own effort, titled 'Elliot's Lament'. I meant it to be a way to explore that other side when you feel like you let 'the one' get away, but the text was making Ryan feel increasingly guilty, and he quickly wrote 'Last Gasp'. So, here is the seven page start of where Elliot was headed.
Elliot's Lament
“Sophie, I'm so sorry,” I said softly.
“Oh...well, I guess it's not the end of the world,” she replied. “I have to say, I thought things were going well, though. Better than they had with Gavin, anyway. Hell, Elliot, you even break up with me better than he did.”
“That's...a dubious honor,” I ventured.
“Well, Gavin isn't much for tact. Or brains, little short on the brains. Still, I'm glad you told me in person.” She hesitated and wrinkled her forehead. “Would you tell me why, though? I've had a string of boyfriend disappointments and I'm just trying to figure out if it's me.”
“No. God no, it's not you,” I said quickly. “I...well, I guess the easy answer is...I'm gay. But that's not really, totally it.”
“Oh. Well, you're the second gay guy I've fallen for then. Sorry I can't turn you to him, but he's dating Robin? You may have met him,” she smiled.
I leaned back into the soft cushion of the booth and regarded her. “I'm really sorry. I promise you I wasn't messing with you by dating. I guess I just...things have happened that made me realize who I was.”
She twitched her mouth and reached for a chip from our shared nacho plate. “So, tell me the story then, El.”
I sighed. “I guess I owe you that,” I nodded.
“Well, no, you don't owe me anything. I wasn't kidding when I said I appreciate you being mature and respecting me by breaking up with me in person. Let's be honest, Elliot, we've only been dating a few weeks and we get along pretty well. We haven't been setting the world on fire as far as making out or anything so we've had some time to actually talk to each other. So, talk to me.”
I nodded and rubbed my damp palms across my thighs. “Well, the early part you know. Devyn and I met when he joined Sahara. Mr. Norris brought him on because he's such an accomplished flute player and he wanted to play something unusual for our competition. Right after that was when all that stuff went down about Mrs. Carter and the guys she was...molesting.”
“Right, I remember,” she said and munched on another chip.
“Well, it wasn't long after that...we kind of...kissed.”
“Who? You and Devyn?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I replied, my face feeling much hotter. “It wasn't really planned, but I wasn't sorry it did – except that it threw me into a tailspin about who I was or who I thought I was.”
“Yeah? I'm guessing you were pretty straight before that?” she asked and sipped her drink. I leaned forward, nodding, and helped myself to some chips as well as a stall so I could word this appropriately.
“I'd dated a few girls, five or six. I'd never really thought about guys, but when I think about it I hadn't really focused on girls, either. I just kinds of...stumbled into dating them.”
“Okay, you're going to have to explain that to me. How do you stumble into dating someone?” she asked with an arched eyebrow.
“It was like this: a girl would be part of some musical group that I'm affiliated with. Summer band, friend of a friend in a jam session, something like that. We talk a little, we hang out some and go for a few dates and 'poof!' it's gone.”
“Oh. So you mean, you weren't after them. It was a casual thing that turned into a few dates?”
“Exactly.”
“Okay. So Devyn kisses you and then what? You sprouted this little gay seed you didn't know you had?” she asked with a grin.
“Well,” I replied with an embarrassed smile crossing my lips. “Not right away. I was definitely surprised that I liked kissing him and I...kissed him enough to know it wasn't a fluke.”
“Well,” Sophie laughed, “I'd say you kind of had your answer there.”
I frowned. “I know. In retrospect, it seems pretty obvious. But for some reason, I had a very hard time accepting it.”
“Had? What makes it possible for you to accept now?” she asked, her eyebrow raised.
I sighed heavily and looked down. “I let him go.”
“You...you let him go.” She reached out and tapped me on the top of my head, “Are you an idiot?”
“Yes,” I muttered.
“Well, why'd you go and do a dumb thing like that?”
“Because,” I sighed and looked up into her eyes as I said, “I still wasn't ready to accept it. I figured that, as long as there was nothing pressing, I could just go one making out with Devyn. He never pushed me for more – a little grope here and there – but I was getting affection and no pressure to make up my mind.”
“Hmm.”
I shrugged, “Devyn told me at the beginning he'd wait for me to make up my mind.”
“Okay, so, why are you not dating him then?”
“Well, there was this other guy...Griffin. He came to me and he was...interested in Devyn. Seems that Dev makes him happy. So I...told him if he hurt Dev, I'd hurt him...and I let him go.”
“So, that's about when we started to go out, unless I miss my mark?”
“Right,” I replied.
“You were rebounding. I was your rebound. You brat,” she threw her napkin at me. “Well, you're stuck with me, now. You have to fill in as my boyfriend for social things until I find another guy.”
“Sure,” I replied. “Uh, no hard feelings?”
“No,” she sighed. “I know all about the heart wants what the heart wants. It's too bad your heart wasn't clear to you a little earlier. What are you going to do about that, by the way?”
“It's been really...really hard,” I admitted slowly. “I don't feel comfortable with the friends we made – I made them through Dev and his situation with Mrs. Carter. I eat with the band and Dev used to, but he hangs out with them now, since he's been...seeing Griffin.”
“Oh. I can see where that might be a problem,” she said sympathetically.
“Yeah,” I said with a wince. “It's hard...this sounds terrible, but it kind of hurts to see him happy when I know I could have had that happiness for myself if I'd been ready for it. If I'd...kept him. All I'd have had to do at any point was just ask him to be my boyfriend. That simple and I blew it, I lost him.”
“Do you guys hang out anymore?”
“No. We jammed once, but Griffin was there and I felt awkward. I mean, this is all me. You know? I can't even blame Dev or Griffin. I had the perfect guy and...I let him walk away. I just can't seem to get over that.”
Sophie reached out and put her hand over mine as I hung my head. What do I do now?
~Break~
Band practice was weird for me. We were learning a new song to take advantage of Devyn's flute and my mind just kept wandering. He'd look at me and I'd see that smile in his eyes that used to be just for me...and I'd stumble over the keys. Eventually I had to stop, as I'd gotten emotional and I pretended, pretty well I thought, to have allergies.
People headed out to catch their rides and Griffin was standing in the doorway waiting for Dev. They greeted each other in sign and I felt another piece of me crack. It was one more thing that had been special between Devyn and I, but then that was selfish of me. It was better that Dev have more people to communicate with rather than keeping him to myself.
“Elliot? Are your allergies under control?” Mr. Norris asked.
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “Probably just some dust.”
“Good. I was wondering if you might indulge me in a favor?”
“Sure. What do you need?”
“Mrs. Compton, the choir director, had a mishap with her hand and she can't play the piano to help her singers. There is a competition approaching and I told her you might be willing to help.”
“Well, probably, but why didn't she ask you to play?” I asked, curiously.
He pursed his lips and smiled thinly and said, “Let's just say there is some professional tension between us and leave it at that, shall we?”
“Okay.”
The next day after school I went to Mrs. Compton's room and she was quite effusive in her greeting and repeatedly thanking me even though I hadn't done anything yet. She had a group of kids, maybe ten tor twelve, and they were broken into groups based on their vocal range. She showed me the music I was to play and allowed me a few minutes to study it and get used to it before we started.
It was a little complicated and I knew I was going to make some mistakes, not just because it was new to me but also due to its complexity. I could learn it, don't get me wrong, but it would take a little focus. I tested out the upright piano, got into a comfortable spot, and played the piece through a few times. Mrs. Compton walked back over to me and had the singers gather to my right in a semi-circle.
“Everyone, this is Elliot Lindley. Mr. Norton has agreed to loan him to us while my hand recuperates,” he said, waving her affected appendage, which was wrapped in an ace bandage. My ears had perked up a bit at that – just how long was I supposed to help for?
“Now that our warm ups are done,” she continued, “let's get started.”
She had me start playing and then worked to get the singers woven into the music. She would stop me suddenly, lecture on timing or tone or whatever, and then we'd start again. It was very tedious and by the time we were done I felt like I thoroughly knew the piece and hated it. I mean, it was boring and not nearly as complex as I'd first thought. Once I'd gotten it down I was more or less trying not to yawn.
When Mrs. Compton called a halt for the day I gratefully dropped the key cover down and stood to stretch. A few of the singers approached me and thanked me for volunteering. One girl, making sure that her teacher was out of earshot, confided I was a better player than Mrs. Compton.
“Hi, I'm Laura,” one pretty girl said as she held her hand out.
“Pleasure,” I replied as I released her hand.
“You're part of Sahara, right? I think I saw you at the school assembly, recently.”
“Yes, we were there,” I confirmed.
“Are you single?” she asked under her breath. I jerked at the unexpected question.
“I just got out of a relationship,” I said truthfully. “I'm sorry.”
“Oh, I'm sorry, too,” she said. “See you tomorrow!” Then she was gone with a few of the other singers who'd waited for her.
Mrs. Compton strolled over to me and smiled, some of her lipstick showing on her teeth as she did so.
“Well done, Mr. Lindley. I think you'll do very well while I recuperate. You have my thanks for volunteering for the duration.” She tilted her head and was turning from me when I caught her with my voice.
“Mrs. Compton, what do you mean 'for the duration'? Mr. Norris asked me to come today as a favor but it seems...?” I trailed off as her face came back into view and she looked a little miffed.
“Mr. Lindley, please don't be dense. It doesn't suit you,” she said firmly. “You can see my hand is in no position to accompany these students and we are getting close to our concert. For the next two weeks I'll need you daily after class. Once that is done, you're free to rejoin your show band,” she sneered.
I was, honestly, too taken aback to respond. I watched as she turned from me and walked to her desk and I simply drifted to the door and left to get my things from my locker. That was kind of bitchy of her, I thought. Why would she put down the band when one of its members was helping her out? I was particularly torqued about her implication that I was simply going to stay for the time frame she suggested – no, informed me of. I grew indignant but then decided I had nothing else to do anyway.
Thinking of that, my thoughts drifted back to Devyn and as I sat in my car and let it warm up, I tilted my head to the steering wheel and allowed myself to wallow in my self pity. How could I have been so stupid?
The next day was Friday and I had been feeling uncharitable all day about having to play that shitty piece of music over and over for the next two weeks. However, when Devyn texted me later and asked about jamming that afternoon, I was able to say honestly that I couldn't. I briefly explained that I'd been committed to something else for the short term and had to focus on that. It was a half truth, I knew, but it was the best I could manage.
Mrs. Compton put them through their paces again that afternoon and I was playing the music as if I were in a coma, so repetitive was the tune. And the stopping and restarting and the playing of one small bit over and over an...I'd almost rather watch Griffin smile at Devyn while we tried to jam.
When the practice mercifully ended Mrs. Compton asked me to wait a moment. Many of the singers left and others were sitting down to catch up on texts missed or whatever breaking news was on their phones.
Mrs. Compton approached with a sheaf of papers and handed them to me. “We've been focusing on this song, but these are the others. Please familiarize yourself with them over the weekend so we can start in earnest on Monday.”
She walked away without so much as a thank you. I glanced down at the music and felt a little grateful that, at least, there would be some variety. I walked across the hall to Mr. Norris's vacant classroom. I'd brought all my things here today so I wouldn't have to go back to my locker. After storing away the new music I took a seat at the piano we used for show band and stroked the keys.
It was a better sound than the piano across the hall and I was very familiar with it, like an old friend. I stroked the keys and my fingers began to fall into a rhythm that my subconscious must have been focused on. It was the live version, with more filler notes that made the simple piece prettier than it was originally, even if it was still sad.
'What have I got to do to make you love me? What have I got to do to make you care? What do I do when lightning strikes me and I awake to find that you're not there?' I played a few open notes and resumed, 'What have I got to do to make you want me? What have I got to to be heard? What do I say when it's all over...and sorry seems to be the hardest word?'
My voice isn't show quality and, I know, it's far out matched by my piano playing. However, I guess I did all right because, as the last notes echoed away there was a single person clapping from the door. I glanced up, startled, and took in the tall boy framed in the doorway.
“That was so sad, what the hell was that?” he asked as he entered the room and approached me.
“Uh, a song I learned to play a few years ago,” I said non-noncommittally.
“But what was it? I've never heard it.” he said, putting his bag on the floor and leaning against the piano.
“It's before both our times, that's why you don't know it,” I replied. I don't know why I wasn't telling him what the song was... well, that's not being very truthful. I was pouring out my hurt – but there wasn't anything to apologize for. Devyn was perfectly happy with Griffin and it would be beyond unfair of me to spoil even a little of that for him. I just sighed, which didn't go unnoticed.
“Well, come on then. What's this old piece of music you're playing? What's the story here? There is one, right?” He smiled and I glanced down at the keys. Without looking I told him – at least some of it.
“My parents made me start piano lessons when I was four. They both loved to sing and they had always been unhappy that they never learned to play an instrument while they were younger. They are not bad, now, but they said if they'd been taught earlier, it would be more natural to them.”
“Okay...” he said, making a hand motion that I keep going.
“Well, my dad is a huge Elton John fan. He wanted me to learn a lot of his songs, and that was one of them.”
“It was incredibly sad. What's it called?”
“Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word,” I replied.
“Jesus, long enough title?”
“It's a little awkward,” I admitted.
“Well, I should run. I only came down here because my twit of a cousin thought she might have left her phone in Mrs. Compton's room,” he said and then pushed his hand toward me. “I'm Brandon Crosby. You might know my cousin, the twit, Laura? Laura Malone?”
I shook his hand, “I think she introduced herself to me yesterday,” I confirmed. “I'm Elliot Lindley, nice to meet you.”
“Pleasure was all mine,” he said with a wide grin. “See you later.”
I gathered my things and headed home for the weekend.
As Ryan wrote the sequel, he began to beg me for the use of Devyn, to pair him with Griffin. I admit, I was never completely sold on it. I kept asking him - what about Elliot? Ryan felt that Elliot wasn't well developed and could easily be shed, sort of the way Cole was with regards to Hamster. I wasn't so sure, in fact I liked Elliot. Ryan asked if I had plans to write them and I admitted I didn't - but that didn't mean something wouldn't come to me later. As it was, I grudgingly let Devyn and Elliot part ways and, by way of compensation, he wrote 'Last Gasp of Winter'. I was never a big Colby fan, and before he started on 'Last Gasp' I had begun my own effort, titled 'Elliot's Lament'. I meant it to be a way to explore that other side when you feel like you let 'the one' get away, but the text was making Ryan feel increasingly guilty, and he quickly wrote 'Last Gasp'. So, here is the seven page start of where Elliot was headed.
Elliot's Lament
“Sophie, I'm so sorry,” I said softly.
“Oh...well, I guess it's not the end of the world,” she replied. “I have to say, I thought things were going well, though. Better than they had with Gavin, anyway. Hell, Elliot, you even break up with me better than he did.”
“That's...a dubious honor,” I ventured.
“Well, Gavin isn't much for tact. Or brains, little short on the brains. Still, I'm glad you told me in person.” She hesitated and wrinkled her forehead. “Would you tell me why, though? I've had a string of boyfriend disappointments and I'm just trying to figure out if it's me.”
“No. God no, it's not you,” I said quickly. “I...well, I guess the easy answer is...I'm gay. But that's not really, totally it.”
“Oh. Well, you're the second gay guy I've fallen for then. Sorry I can't turn you to him, but he's dating Robin? You may have met him,” she smiled.
I leaned back into the soft cushion of the booth and regarded her. “I'm really sorry. I promise you I wasn't messing with you by dating. I guess I just...things have happened that made me realize who I was.”
She twitched her mouth and reached for a chip from our shared nacho plate. “So, tell me the story then, El.”
I sighed. “I guess I owe you that,” I nodded.
“Well, no, you don't owe me anything. I wasn't kidding when I said I appreciate you being mature and respecting me by breaking up with me in person. Let's be honest, Elliot, we've only been dating a few weeks and we get along pretty well. We haven't been setting the world on fire as far as making out or anything so we've had some time to actually talk to each other. So, talk to me.”
I nodded and rubbed my damp palms across my thighs. “Well, the early part you know. Devyn and I met when he joined Sahara. Mr. Norris brought him on because he's such an accomplished flute player and he wanted to play something unusual for our competition. Right after that was when all that stuff went down about Mrs. Carter and the guys she was...molesting.”
“Right, I remember,” she said and munched on another chip.
“Well, it wasn't long after that...we kind of...kissed.”
“Who? You and Devyn?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I replied, my face feeling much hotter. “It wasn't really planned, but I wasn't sorry it did – except that it threw me into a tailspin about who I was or who I thought I was.”
“Yeah? I'm guessing you were pretty straight before that?” she asked and sipped her drink. I leaned forward, nodding, and helped myself to some chips as well as a stall so I could word this appropriately.
“I'd dated a few girls, five or six. I'd never really thought about guys, but when I think about it I hadn't really focused on girls, either. I just kinds of...stumbled into dating them.”
“Okay, you're going to have to explain that to me. How do you stumble into dating someone?” she asked with an arched eyebrow.
“It was like this: a girl would be part of some musical group that I'm affiliated with. Summer band, friend of a friend in a jam session, something like that. We talk a little, we hang out some and go for a few dates and 'poof!' it's gone.”
“Oh. So you mean, you weren't after them. It was a casual thing that turned into a few dates?”
“Exactly.”
“Okay. So Devyn kisses you and then what? You sprouted this little gay seed you didn't know you had?” she asked with a grin.
“Well,” I replied with an embarrassed smile crossing my lips. “Not right away. I was definitely surprised that I liked kissing him and I...kissed him enough to know it wasn't a fluke.”
“Well,” Sophie laughed, “I'd say you kind of had your answer there.”
I frowned. “I know. In retrospect, it seems pretty obvious. But for some reason, I had a very hard time accepting it.”
“Had? What makes it possible for you to accept now?” she asked, her eyebrow raised.
I sighed heavily and looked down. “I let him go.”
“You...you let him go.” She reached out and tapped me on the top of my head, “Are you an idiot?”
“Yes,” I muttered.
“Well, why'd you go and do a dumb thing like that?”
“Because,” I sighed and looked up into her eyes as I said, “I still wasn't ready to accept it. I figured that, as long as there was nothing pressing, I could just go one making out with Devyn. He never pushed me for more – a little grope here and there – but I was getting affection and no pressure to make up my mind.”
“Hmm.”
I shrugged, “Devyn told me at the beginning he'd wait for me to make up my mind.”
“Okay, so, why are you not dating him then?”
“Well, there was this other guy...Griffin. He came to me and he was...interested in Devyn. Seems that Dev makes him happy. So I...told him if he hurt Dev, I'd hurt him...and I let him go.”
“So, that's about when we started to go out, unless I miss my mark?”
“Right,” I replied.
“You were rebounding. I was your rebound. You brat,” she threw her napkin at me. “Well, you're stuck with me, now. You have to fill in as my boyfriend for social things until I find another guy.”
“Sure,” I replied. “Uh, no hard feelings?”
“No,” she sighed. “I know all about the heart wants what the heart wants. It's too bad your heart wasn't clear to you a little earlier. What are you going to do about that, by the way?”
“It's been really...really hard,” I admitted slowly. “I don't feel comfortable with the friends we made – I made them through Dev and his situation with Mrs. Carter. I eat with the band and Dev used to, but he hangs out with them now, since he's been...seeing Griffin.”
“Oh. I can see where that might be a problem,” she said sympathetically.
“Yeah,” I said with a wince. “It's hard...this sounds terrible, but it kind of hurts to see him happy when I know I could have had that happiness for myself if I'd been ready for it. If I'd...kept him. All I'd have had to do at any point was just ask him to be my boyfriend. That simple and I blew it, I lost him.”
“Do you guys hang out anymore?”
“No. We jammed once, but Griffin was there and I felt awkward. I mean, this is all me. You know? I can't even blame Dev or Griffin. I had the perfect guy and...I let him walk away. I just can't seem to get over that.”
Sophie reached out and put her hand over mine as I hung my head. What do I do now?
~Break~
Band practice was weird for me. We were learning a new song to take advantage of Devyn's flute and my mind just kept wandering. He'd look at me and I'd see that smile in his eyes that used to be just for me...and I'd stumble over the keys. Eventually I had to stop, as I'd gotten emotional and I pretended, pretty well I thought, to have allergies.
People headed out to catch their rides and Griffin was standing in the doorway waiting for Dev. They greeted each other in sign and I felt another piece of me crack. It was one more thing that had been special between Devyn and I, but then that was selfish of me. It was better that Dev have more people to communicate with rather than keeping him to myself.
“Elliot? Are your allergies under control?” Mr. Norris asked.
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “Probably just some dust.”
“Good. I was wondering if you might indulge me in a favor?”
“Sure. What do you need?”
“Mrs. Compton, the choir director, had a mishap with her hand and she can't play the piano to help her singers. There is a competition approaching and I told her you might be willing to help.”
“Well, probably, but why didn't she ask you to play?” I asked, curiously.
He pursed his lips and smiled thinly and said, “Let's just say there is some professional tension between us and leave it at that, shall we?”
“Okay.”
The next day after school I went to Mrs. Compton's room and she was quite effusive in her greeting and repeatedly thanking me even though I hadn't done anything yet. She had a group of kids, maybe ten tor twelve, and they were broken into groups based on their vocal range. She showed me the music I was to play and allowed me a few minutes to study it and get used to it before we started.
It was a little complicated and I knew I was going to make some mistakes, not just because it was new to me but also due to its complexity. I could learn it, don't get me wrong, but it would take a little focus. I tested out the upright piano, got into a comfortable spot, and played the piece through a few times. Mrs. Compton walked back over to me and had the singers gather to my right in a semi-circle.
“Everyone, this is Elliot Lindley. Mr. Norton has agreed to loan him to us while my hand recuperates,” he said, waving her affected appendage, which was wrapped in an ace bandage. My ears had perked up a bit at that – just how long was I supposed to help for?
“Now that our warm ups are done,” she continued, “let's get started.”
She had me start playing and then worked to get the singers woven into the music. She would stop me suddenly, lecture on timing or tone or whatever, and then we'd start again. It was very tedious and by the time we were done I felt like I thoroughly knew the piece and hated it. I mean, it was boring and not nearly as complex as I'd first thought. Once I'd gotten it down I was more or less trying not to yawn.
When Mrs. Compton called a halt for the day I gratefully dropped the key cover down and stood to stretch. A few of the singers approached me and thanked me for volunteering. One girl, making sure that her teacher was out of earshot, confided I was a better player than Mrs. Compton.
“Hi, I'm Laura,” one pretty girl said as she held her hand out.
“Pleasure,” I replied as I released her hand.
“You're part of Sahara, right? I think I saw you at the school assembly, recently.”
“Yes, we were there,” I confirmed.
“Are you single?” she asked under her breath. I jerked at the unexpected question.
“I just got out of a relationship,” I said truthfully. “I'm sorry.”
“Oh, I'm sorry, too,” she said. “See you tomorrow!” Then she was gone with a few of the other singers who'd waited for her.
Mrs. Compton strolled over to me and smiled, some of her lipstick showing on her teeth as she did so.
“Well done, Mr. Lindley. I think you'll do very well while I recuperate. You have my thanks for volunteering for the duration.” She tilted her head and was turning from me when I caught her with my voice.
“Mrs. Compton, what do you mean 'for the duration'? Mr. Norris asked me to come today as a favor but it seems...?” I trailed off as her face came back into view and she looked a little miffed.
“Mr. Lindley, please don't be dense. It doesn't suit you,” she said firmly. “You can see my hand is in no position to accompany these students and we are getting close to our concert. For the next two weeks I'll need you daily after class. Once that is done, you're free to rejoin your show band,” she sneered.
I was, honestly, too taken aback to respond. I watched as she turned from me and walked to her desk and I simply drifted to the door and left to get my things from my locker. That was kind of bitchy of her, I thought. Why would she put down the band when one of its members was helping her out? I was particularly torqued about her implication that I was simply going to stay for the time frame she suggested – no, informed me of. I grew indignant but then decided I had nothing else to do anyway.
Thinking of that, my thoughts drifted back to Devyn and as I sat in my car and let it warm up, I tilted my head to the steering wheel and allowed myself to wallow in my self pity. How could I have been so stupid?
The next day was Friday and I had been feeling uncharitable all day about having to play that shitty piece of music over and over for the next two weeks. However, when Devyn texted me later and asked about jamming that afternoon, I was able to say honestly that I couldn't. I briefly explained that I'd been committed to something else for the short term and had to focus on that. It was a half truth, I knew, but it was the best I could manage.
Mrs. Compton put them through their paces again that afternoon and I was playing the music as if I were in a coma, so repetitive was the tune. And the stopping and restarting and the playing of one small bit over and over an...I'd almost rather watch Griffin smile at Devyn while we tried to jam.
When the practice mercifully ended Mrs. Compton asked me to wait a moment. Many of the singers left and others were sitting down to catch up on texts missed or whatever breaking news was on their phones.
Mrs. Compton approached with a sheaf of papers and handed them to me. “We've been focusing on this song, but these are the others. Please familiarize yourself with them over the weekend so we can start in earnest on Monday.”
She walked away without so much as a thank you. I glanced down at the music and felt a little grateful that, at least, there would be some variety. I walked across the hall to Mr. Norris's vacant classroom. I'd brought all my things here today so I wouldn't have to go back to my locker. After storing away the new music I took a seat at the piano we used for show band and stroked the keys.
It was a better sound than the piano across the hall and I was very familiar with it, like an old friend. I stroked the keys and my fingers began to fall into a rhythm that my subconscious must have been focused on. It was the live version, with more filler notes that made the simple piece prettier than it was originally, even if it was still sad.
'What have I got to do to make you love me? What have I got to do to make you care? What do I do when lightning strikes me and I awake to find that you're not there?' I played a few open notes and resumed, 'What have I got to do to make you want me? What have I got to to be heard? What do I say when it's all over...and sorry seems to be the hardest word?'
My voice isn't show quality and, I know, it's far out matched by my piano playing. However, I guess I did all right because, as the last notes echoed away there was a single person clapping from the door. I glanced up, startled, and took in the tall boy framed in the doorway.
“That was so sad, what the hell was that?” he asked as he entered the room and approached me.
“Uh, a song I learned to play a few years ago,” I said non-noncommittally.
“But what was it? I've never heard it.” he said, putting his bag on the floor and leaning against the piano.
“It's before both our times, that's why you don't know it,” I replied. I don't know why I wasn't telling him what the song was... well, that's not being very truthful. I was pouring out my hurt – but there wasn't anything to apologize for. Devyn was perfectly happy with Griffin and it would be beyond unfair of me to spoil even a little of that for him. I just sighed, which didn't go unnoticed.
“Well, come on then. What's this old piece of music you're playing? What's the story here? There is one, right?” He smiled and I glanced down at the keys. Without looking I told him – at least some of it.
“My parents made me start piano lessons when I was four. They both loved to sing and they had always been unhappy that they never learned to play an instrument while they were younger. They are not bad, now, but they said if they'd been taught earlier, it would be more natural to them.”
“Okay...” he said, making a hand motion that I keep going.
“Well, my dad is a huge Elton John fan. He wanted me to learn a lot of his songs, and that was one of them.”
“It was incredibly sad. What's it called?”
“Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word,” I replied.
“Jesus, long enough title?”
“It's a little awkward,” I admitted.
“Well, I should run. I only came down here because my twit of a cousin thought she might have left her phone in Mrs. Compton's room,” he said and then pushed his hand toward me. “I'm Brandon Crosby. You might know my cousin, the twit, Laura? Laura Malone?”
I shook his hand, “I think she introduced herself to me yesterday,” I confirmed. “I'm Elliot Lindley, nice to meet you.”
“Pleasure was all mine,” he said with a wide grin. “See you later.”
I gathered my things and headed home for the weekend.
