Maybe that’s why my stomach had lurched at our Thursday lesson when Jennifer had called him and he’d agreed to take her out Saturday night.
AKA tonight.
He hadn’t so much as acknowledged the call when it was over, picking up our lesson right where he’d left it like I hadn’t just heard him tell another woman that he’d pick her up at seven on Saturday night. And I knew it didn’t matter, that he was doing exactly what I’d asked him to do — true to his word, just like I knew he would be.
But I still sat there on his piano bench with a thick, sticky tongue for the rest of our lesson.
Now, here it was five o’clock on Saturday evening. Reese was probably showering. He was probably shaving, laying out his clothes, spritzing himself with the cologne that I loved so much. He was probably combing his hair back into a nice, neat bun at the nape of his neck, probably lighting up a cigarette to ease his nerves.
And I was here, alone.
It was just as it should be. I wanted him to date, to move on from Charlie, to find a step forward. I wanted him to be happy.
I just hated that it couldn’t be with me.
I needed to talk to someone before my thoughts drove me up the goddamn wall. But I couldn’t tell my mom, definitely couldn’t tell my aunt or uncle, and I’d pushed every other person in my life away when I’d left Bramlock.
Including Reneé.
Sighing, I shook my head and finally tapped the DIAL button, putting the call on speaker. As soon as the rings started filling my room, my stomach tightened, a knot forming in my throat that I had to swallow past when she answered.
“Hello? Sarah?”
I tried to swallow, but couldn’t. I just sat there, tears welling in my eyes at the sound of her voice.
“Sarah, please tell me it’s you.”
“It’s me,” I croaked.
“Oh my God,” she cried in response, and the tears in my eyes welled more, slipping over my cheeks as I covered my mouth with one hand. “It’s really you? I thought you’d died. I thought… I don’t even know. I thought I would never hear from you again.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said, choking on my own tears. “I’m so sorry I left you, that I didn’t call or text. I don’t have a valid excuse but I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she assured me. “It’s okay. Whatever your reasoning was, I understand.” She sniffed. “Now, tell me everything to make up for the fact that you’ve given me premature gray hairs.”
I laughed, swiping the tears from my face as I pictured my best friend — warm, brown skin, wide chocolate eyes, hair wild and curly, smile as wide as her face.
“Seriously, start talking. Why the hell didn’t you come back last semester? Where have you been? What have you been doing? Are you sick?” She gasped. “Oh my God… are you dying? Sarah, if you are just now calling to tell me you have some sort of disease and only have a few days to live, I swear to science I’ll fly to wherever you are and kill you myself.”
I chuckled again, fluffing the pillows on my bed before leaning back against them with the phone on my chest. “I’m not dying. I’m perfectly healthy. And I’m in Pittsburgh… well, Mount Lebanon. I’m staying with my uncle and taking piano lessons with Reese Walker. Oh, also, I sha—”
“Wait, wait, wait,” she said, cutting me off. “You’re in Pennsylvania? And you’re taking lessons with the Reese Walker? What the hell, Sarah? Why haven’t you told me? Why have you ignored my calls and texts?”
I sighed. “It’s… complicated.”
“Break it down.”
“I can’t,” I said on a swallow. That earned me a huff on the other end, and I sat up a little straighter, pinching the bend of my nose. “Look, I know it’s frustrating. I left, I didn’t come back, I ignored you and everyone else who reached out to me. And now, I call you out of the blue, and I still can’t tell you everything. I know that is stupid and upsetting, but… I love you, Reneé. You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a sister and I really, really need you right now. And I know it’s not fair, but I’m asking you to understand that I can’t tell you everything about why I left Bramlock, but that I am okay.” I paused. “Well, for the most part, anyway.”
She huffed again, a long pause lingering between us before she spoke. “That’s really not fair.”
“I know.”
“And it’s really selfish, too.”
“I know.”
Reneé paused. “But, I love you. And if you can’t tell me yet… then, I guess that’s okay.”
I let out a long breath of relief. “Thank you. Thank you for understanding.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she mumbled. “Now, you said something about needing me. What’s going on?”
“Well… it kind of has to do with Reese.”
“Reese? You’re on a first-name basis with a piano god?”
I blushed, fingering my necklace. “I may be on a lip to lip basis with a piano god.”
“WHAT?! Okay, enough teasing. SPILL.”
I laughed, launching into the story from the very beginning. I told her about the lessons, how I still wanted to go to Carnegie and play in New York City and Reese was my way to get there now that I had dipped out of school. I told her about our lessons, about the incredible way he played, the way he taught. I told her about Charlie, about Reese opening up to me, and me opening up to him about my dad — which she gasped at, since she was pretty much the only other person I’d ever told. Then, I told her about the kiss — and how I’d jumped off him and ran out.
We’d had to run over that quite a few times for her to understand.
Of course, I didn’t tell her what I told him — about Wolfgang, about what had happened that December night at Bramlock. But, I tried my best to explain that it was clear we couldn’t be together like that.
When all was said and done, Reneé blew out a long whistle, digesting everything I’d said.
“So, your hot ass, piano god of a teacher makes a move on you. You reciprocate that move, and then you run out because… you’re too young for him?”
“And I’m his student. And he’s my uncle’s employee.”
“Yeah…” she said on a long sigh. “I guess that all makes sense. But, you still like him. You still want more, even though you told him you don’t.”
I sighed, because she was right… but even with telling her all that, I was leaving out the biggest piece of the puzzle.
I’m scared. And damaged. And I don’t know how to be intimate with anyone because all that desire was stolen from me.
“And, you told him he should go on a date with someone else,” Reneé continued. “And he listened.”
“Damn him for being true to his word.”
She chuckled at that. “Well, bestie, as much as I hate to say this, I think you put yourself in this pickle.”
I groaned, covering my face with a pillow before throwing it across the room. “I know, okay? I know. The question is, what do I do about it now?”
She let out another long sigh, the silence growing between us.