Page 48 of Hunger & Harmony

I never imagined this would be how I’d see his first smile. A genuine, soft, gorgeous smile. He looks so handsome. So hopeful, too.

“I wish I could live like that,” he says, and when his smile doesn’t fade, I believe him.

“Maybe I can teach you,” I respond lightheartedly. “I mean, no one can tell me what to do. I literally defied my own parents to get here . . .”

“Ez told me,” he says, and the sheepish blush returns. “Something about forging resumes and taking a job out of town.”

“Oh, god.” I put my head in my hands. “That was such a bad look.”

“But the truth,” he says, and I laugh.

“It is,” I say, my fingers fidgeting as I mumble. “I was willing to do anything for music. For . . .normalcy.”

He leans in, and I catch his own hands twitch for a moment. A large part of me wishes he’d take mine in his.

“Care to explain?” he asks, but I’m finding it hard to trust the eager inflection.

“You don’t actually want my life story!”

“We have all night,” he shoots back.

The stale air lightens with laughter. Even the lamp seems to glow brighter.

“Okay, fair enough. But I’ll warn you now, I like to talk.”

“I like to listen.”

I could bask in his smile all night and day.

We settle further into the seats, his attention solely on me. I soak up every second of it.

“To be honest, there’s a lot. For starters, my parents are the strictest. No music this, no music that.”

“No music?” he echoes, expression twisted in actual surprise.

“Never,” I say, nodding when his confusion deepens. “I’m not kidding. Everything was banned, even humming!” I let out a sigh. “They were always so happy that I’m musically inept. Can’t sing, can’t keep rhythm or dance, and instruments literally quake at my name.”

That earns a brief chuckle.

“You can’t be that bad.”

“I am.” I shrug. “It doesn’t bother me as much as it used to. Really, it’s more fun to enjoy it as a listener.”

“Hm . . .I can’t remember the last time I listened to a song for fun.”

“What? Wow,” I say, and he gestures for me to continue. “Well, anyway, my best . . .”

A series of vibrations from my back pocket cut me off.

“Hold on,” I say, and he remains quiet as I pull out my phone.

Wait, Viola texting me at this hour?

Lala

Are you okay? You haven’t said anything in days.

I'm just saying what’s best for you. It’s not my fault you can’t see that.