It takes him a second, but I see it when he catches on to what I’m asking.
“Nothing said you had to do anything other than perform.”
It’s not perfect; the idea of performing anything at any time still steals the air from my lungs, but for now, it’s a future Wren problem.
“When is the showcase?” I ask, dreading the answer.
“Three months. We do something halfway through the year. The first quarter is for our performers, a friendly competition where everyone plays, and the judges score each person. The first winner gets 10k, the second 5, and the third 2. It’s silly, but the school has done this kind of thing for hundreds of years, or so I’ve been told.”
Two grand… that’s a lot of money.
Ten is fucking crazy, and for a moment, I just stare at him, unable to form words or thoughts past the dollar signs.
That would really help me disappear after I graduate.
I worry my lip before I suck in a sharp breath and steel myself to the idea that this is happening.
“I enjoy the violin and the cello. Do you have any openings for those?”
Mr. Adler looks at me, his eyes searching mine, and I’m not sure what he was looking for, but I’m pretty sure he finds it when he gives me a curt nod and pushes to his feet, taking every bit of calm I’d just built with him.
I manage to hold it together, but just barely, and when he moves around his desk to look over a piece of paper, I almost smack myself. The reason he pulled away was because of me!
He pauses for a moment, his gaze flicking up to meet mine before he resumes sorting through the stack of papers.
“Any sports?” He asks as he jots down my name under Thursday for cello and Tuesday for violin.
“No.”
He pauses and purses his lips.
“Are they required?” I ask, and honestly, if he says yes, I might just lose it.
“No,” he looks up, his gaze holding mine as he searches my eyes. “But your file…”
I can’t stop the sharp breath I suck in. Is there anything that isn’t in that file? Does he know my cycle, too?
“Unless it’s required, I’ll stick with music and catching up on all the work I have to do to make up for the time I missed.”
I hold his gaze for a moment, and I swear it looks like he wants to argue, but after a second, he nods and turns his attention back to the paper, letting me breathe a sigh of relief.
“Alright, I’ve got you in for cello and violin. I also added you to the piano class on Fridays, but I’ve put a note in for the instructor that you do independent studies, so you don’t have to report to the rehearsal hall if you don’t want to.”
I try to thank him, but the words get stuck in my throat. When’s the last time someone was this nice to me other than Julez? I still don't know why he’s being nice to me. I fear with him I might end up the butt of a sick joke, which is why I’ve tried to keep myself at a distance, but Mr. Adler seems different.
I’m pretty sure I’m overthinking this, though. He’s my guidance counselor, and he’s offering me guidance, that’s all.
Don’t make this weird, Wren.
“Thank you, Mr. Adler.” I finally manage to get the words out as I push to my feet, more than ready to leave.
“Dimitri,” he says, and I pause, my head snapping up to see him staring at me with a look I can’t seem to make heads or tails of.
“What?”
He pushes to stand, moving around the desk, stopping less than a foot away from me, close enough that I have to crane my head back to meet his gaze.
He’s not as close as he’d been earlier when I was panicking, but with us both standing, he’s much more intimidating like this.
