Gretchen widened her eyes and sucked in a breath. “Girl, now that’s a story for another day.”
“She wanted to be here though. She told me to tell you to kick booty,” Blithe said.
“She’s okay though?” I asked.
Gretchen and Blithe exchanged a look. “Think so,” the blonde said.
“She will be,” Gretchen said. “Don’t worry about that right now. You focus on getting up there.”
I nodded and glanced down to check my appearance one last time. I wore a comfortable outfit of black stretchy pants and a long, see-through, flowing top that went down to the back of my knees, over a thin-strapped tank. My hair was up but not as tight as usual, with a few loose tendrils framing my face. I felt comfortable in my body.
“Is everybody here?” I asked the girls scanning the crowd around me. As far as I could tell, most of the symphony waited to go up, dressed to the nines.
Blithe nodded. “Mostly. I don’t think Carla could make it.”
Gretchen rolled her eyes.
I glanced toward the stage. This was it. Do or die. Only one thing stood between me and claiming my life—one teenage boy with straggly hair and a knit beanie. He was a stagehand and he currently blocked the only entrance about five feet away. Devlin’s voice rang out. Chills prickled my arms. His voice would always do that to me.
“I have an idea,” Gretchen said. “That guy’s what? Like, eighteen tops?” Gretchen looked over my shoulder at the kid. “We’re four beautiful women, or as Kim would say, ‘objectively not ugly’.”
“We could distract him, and Kim could run on stage,” Blithe finished.
“Uh, hello?” The kid in question walked up to us. “I can hear y’all. You’re actually being really loud. Can you quiet down?”
“Sorry,” we all mumbled, looking at our feet and not feeling badass at all.
He looked at me and blushed. “I know Christine Day. I was here that one time with Ford’s Fosters, so if you just wanna …” He thumbed behind him.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I mean, you’re not planning to mess him up, I’m guessin’.”
“But we had a whole plan.” Gretchen looked a little put out.
“Yeah, you’re harshing our vibe, kid,” Blithe said.
“I could put up a fight?” He cleared his throat before dryly saying, “No. Please. You can’t go up there.”
“Better. I guess,” Blithe said.
I shook out my hands as dread cemented in my gut.
“Y’all, I’m gonna go up.” I took a deep breath in and blew it out slowly through a pursed mouth. Suddenly, the realization settled in that not only was I playing in front of a massive crowd, I was also at great risk of total rejection.
“You got this, girlfriend.” Each girl whispered words of encouragement as I gripped the neck of my cello. I couldn’t focus enough on who said what, but they were all excited for me.
I made my way on to the stage. The girls ran out to pull up a chair behind the piano. He was too lost to the music to notice anything other than his performance. The audience spotted me and whispered words reached my ears between the notes of his song. I lifted my bow and began what I’d been rehearsing.
I kept my eyes closed as I played. The audience was huge, but I wasn’t playing for them. I played for Devlin and nobody else. I played for him like my life depended on it. It did. My whole heart depended on it.
I could tell the moment he stopped playing the piano. His voice broke with emotion and my own tears came. He’d played for me. And now I played for him. The audience was silent. But I felt him turn to watch.
This was the power I had. This was my strength where I’d thought I had none. Here was my gift. I could give and not take. I could leave a mark on the world.
I played for him, with every fiber of my being. I imagined the night we played silent music, with his arms wrapped around me. I embodied all the emotion he was desperate to convey.
Feel my love. Feel everything, I was telling him.
