Page 42 of People Skills

‘I hate you,’ he says, but he’s smiling.

He walks over and sits down at the piano and makes a cute face at me. A cute face? It takes me a second to compute that I am thinking of his face as cute. Where did that thought come from? The wine, just the wine. And the fact that a man, any man, sitting at a piano is appealing. Pianos are like books, they level a man up in attractiveness.

Xavier pushes his hair back with his hand, looking at the piano thoughtfully, plays a few notes to warm up, and then launches easily into a fun, bouncy, simple little piece. When he finishes, Simone yells, ‘More!’

He hesitates, starts something, stops, and then starts again, playing a complicated, beautiful piece, soft and emotional. It’s the kind of music that twinkles, that tingles my brain and runs down my spine. The piece is famous, I’ve heard it before, I know, but the name eludes me.

When he finishes, several people applaud. I stand up and give him a ‘Woo’. He walks back, grinning, his face flushed from alcohol and attention.

‘You undersold how good you are at the piano,’ I say.

‘And you undersold how good you are at chess,’ he says, sitting down across from me, stretching his legs out under the table. His feet bump into mine.

‘What was that second piece you played?’ I ask. ‘Sorry, I know nothing about classical music, but I know I know it.’

‘You heathen. It was “Clair de Lune”.’

‘It’s beautiful.’

‘It is. Mum used to make me play it while she was making dinner.’

We get more wine, which I know vaguely in the back of my mind is a mistake, that I’m already too many glasses in, but we have momentum now, and we’re in the zone of whatever one of us says, the other will agree to.

Xavier pulls down some old board games, and we laugh through the Game of Life and Scattergories, with Scattergories getting so competitive, and ridiculous, that Simone has to come and ask us to tone down our laughter.

‘Shall we head home?’ I say, after we put the games back on the shelf. A part of me doesn’t want to go home, and that is like a little warning bell in my mind. I’m having too much fun with Xavier.

‘Sure,’ he says.

We pay and leave, and it’s later than I’d realised. I feel warm and slightly drunk in a pleasant way. I’m in a happy, silly zone. So is Xavier.

‘I have an idea,’ he says.

‘What?’

‘Let’s walk home via the beach.’

‘The beach isn’t really on the way home.’

‘Look at the sky. Come on. Imagine seeing it from the beach.’

‘I’m seeing it now.’

‘It’ll look better on the beach. You showed me the sunrise on the beach. Now I’ll show you the stars.’

‘Okay,’ I say. ‘Let’s go to the beach.’

14

WE WALK DOWN onto the beach and take off our shoes, letting our feet sink into the cold sand. I find a nice spot and lie down.

‘What are you doing?’ Xavier says.

‘Looking at the moon,’ I say.

He lies down next to me in the moonlight, and we stare at the sky together. It’s clear and black like velvet. The stars are bright and shining. Why haven’t I done this before, why haven’t I come to the beach every night to see the sky? The sound of the waves lapping the shore is so relaxing, I could sleep here.

I turn to Xavier. ‘Are you sad about Lana?’ I ask.