Page 120 of Pucking Them
Gratefully, Robyn clings to my arm. “Thanks.” Then ungratefully, she adds, “Don’t you dare touch your phone again, dick.”
“But I’ll have to touch it to turn it off before the performance begins,” I say, trying to sound innocent.
Robyn is far too wrung out from coming to buy it.
She knows me too well.
“I have my eye on you and your phone finger, D’Angelo.” She rests her head against my shoulder. “Why are we at the town hall?”
“Because this is one of my favorite places in Freedom, and I want this date to be about showing you why I love playing piano so much.”
I mean that I want to show her part of my soul that no one else has seen. I haven’t been prepared to reveal it to anyone before.
It’s hard to explain that and even harder to say.
Instead, I push open the front door, leading Robyn into the small lobby that smells of disinfectant. The walls are covered in bulletin boards that are pinned with stained and curling posters.
Through the closed door at the back of the room, I can hear the excited hum of the audience.
My shoulders relax, despite the headache that has been throbbing through me all day.
I’m not the person who will be performing tonight. No pressure or expectations weigh on me.
Instead, I only have the soar of music to escape into.
“Hey, I like seeing you smile like that.” Robyn pulls back but keeps a tight hold on my arm. “I can tell already that you love this place. You should bring Shay as well. You teaching him to play piano has meant the world to him. You know, that someone thinks he’s worth being taught.”
My lips curl at the memory of my last lesson.
Shay is getting better. When I started his piano lessons, I learned that maybe I did have the patience of a saint. Now, he crashes through chords like an enthusiastic four-year-old Mozart with a rock star’s soul.
I don’t care, however, if it makes Shay smile.
“He has had too many professionals making him feel like he can’t read or he’s too short to play hockey.” My eyes narrow. “I am going to spend my life showing him that they were assholes, and he can have fun learning anything he likes.”
“Then why don’t you play here sometime?” Robyn pulls away from me, practically dancing with excitement.
My heart clenches.
I shake my head. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. But I’m more at the cocktail bar level. I was only taught professionally until I was sent away to the Discipline School. The pianist that we’re seeing tonight is a prodigy. She is better than I ever could have been, even though we were taught when we were young by the same teacher.”
It hurts to think about seeing her.
Yet it would have hurt too much not to come out here tonight.
I know the moment that Robyn realizes who it is. The light dies in her eyes.
“Who?” She still asks.
“My sister,” I reply. “Maria.”
Robyn’s shoulders lift in shock. Her eyebrows scrunch like she’s searching for what to say and isn’t sure what the right thing is.
“Why do you want to see Maria play?” Robyn finally demands. “What is this date about?”
I set my jaw. “I saw that my sister was coming to Freedom to play for the first time. Being a musician nowadays is hard. My parents believed that Maria would have this grand, global career, but it’s not like that even for people who are as good as she is. She plays in places like this, mostly. I’m proud of her. But I haven’t seen her in years now. I miss her playing and I wanted to share this with you.”
Does Robyn understand?
