Page 110 of The Other Side of Green

“Everything okay, Lyra?” Greene peered at me through his glasses.

“Yes, sorry.” I focused on Greene and attempted to ignore the brooding hulk of his teaching aide. I mean what was he expecting? I’d move away from Alex just because he stood too close to me?

Yeah… no.

“So, Christmas…” Greene let his words dangle.

My stomach plummeted. Ugh. Christmas. Never had there been a more miserable word.

“I know! I know! Time to get home to see your family, old friends, drink too much… write me loads of essays on Bach and his techniques at using strings to evoke emotions… head’s up there, guys! Jump on that before all the books leave the library—” Greene grinned. “—And no, Google won’t cut it.”

We all groaned in unison.

“What? You think there won’t be work?” He laughed and adjusted his glasses again. “So, Christmas. As you can see, I’ve separated you out into small tutor groups.”

We eyed one another, all of us shifting, apart from Brittany who had her focus on Jack. Scowling, I turned back to Greene and listened to whatever hell he had planned.

“Now as you know,” he studied the suede on his desert boot, “for right or wrong the college is under a lot of fire right now.”

My cheeks warmed up and I fought the urge to lift my hands to hide them.

“Normally we would have a big concert, friends, family, lots of important people with big wallets and bigger waistlines would be invited.”

I could sense Jack staring at me, but I stayed focused on Greene.

“This year we thought it would be better to scale things back, keep things intimate. And you never know if we do it well, maybe we will get some positive coverage in the news.” Greene bit his lip like this might not happen.

I shifted my weight, guilt pushing me down. Alex reached out and touched my arm. “Don’t do that,” he whispered.

“What?”

Greene was still going on and on, trying to make good of the fact that somehow I’d been at the center of blowing Christmas college traditions out of the water.

“Think it’s you, it’s not. My family, remember?”

I nodded, shooting him a smile.

“So,” Greene pulled our attention back. “What do you know about chamber music?”

“Ugh.” Numerous moans went up.

Greene laughed and waved his hand. “I know, I know. It means you’ll have to play together. God, how awful… Chamber music only works if there is cohesion and unity between each member. There is no star in this style of music.”

His attention flitted to me briefly, reading my face—but I could read his too. There isn’t a star, but really there is… don’t let us down.

“Right,” he clapped his hands, “We are going to split you into halves, so there’s an even amount of cello and violin. Sarah.” He waved his hand at a quiet girl with chestnut curls. “You’re the only viola, so you’ll be the extra cherry on top of one chamber.”

She nodded, her curls shaking. “You won’t make me go center, will you?”

Greene sighed, shoulders slumping. “If none of you wanted to go center then you’ve really picked the wrong major to study.” Again, his gaze flitted to me and his intention was clear. I would be going center and I wouldn’t be fucking it up.

“Now, Lyra and Alex you two go over there.” He pointed us to a corner. “Grab some chairs and circle them. Brittany, Sarah, and Liam, over there. The rest of you, I’ll divvy up. Remember, you aren’t in competition with each other. Brittany glared at me. Yeah, she was in open competition. Whatever. I turned my back and followed Alex to where he’d started to drag chairs. As I walked away I heard Jack ask, tone light. “Shall I go with that group?” I couldn’t see where he pointed, but I knew it would be my side of the rehearsal hall.

“Oh no, Jack. You stay here. Remember we discussed why?” Greene answered and my steps faltered. What had been discussed, and why hadn’t Jack mentioned anything to me?

In fact, he hadn’t really talked about anything at all—since his return from New Orleans he’d been a closed book—and it didn’t matter what I’d asked, or how close we were physically, that book wasn’t willing to open. I glanced over my shoulder and found his dark gaze watching me, and unease seeped into my stomach. The gaze morphed into a downright glare when Alex shouted, “Lennox, stop stalling and haul some chairs.”

I turned from Jack, chest tight and grinned at Alex. “But you have the build for it, save you gym time. I’m doing you a favor.”