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I scoff at myself. Wishful thinking, Cooper. Get your head on straight. She hates your guts, remember? Though I can’t deny how satisfying it is to ruffle her feathers. Maybe if I keep chipping away at that icy exterior, I’ll find a warm heart hidden somewhere inside.
As much as Sloane infuriates me, she also intrigues me. I want to unravel the mystery of this woman. Study all her layers like reading an epic novel. I have to know what made her so untrusting and cynical. There’s a story there, and I aim to uncover it.
There’s an irresistible satisfaction in getting someone to open up, to let you in. It’s a high like no other. And I sense Sloane Castle could become an addiction if I let her. The trick is getting them to open up without doing the same.
I need to proceed with caution...but oh… how I love a challenge.
eight
Good to be Alive
Sloane
On the second day of the session, I find a cup of coffee from a nearby café on the floor in front of the piano studio door. I pick it up and inspect it. On the side is written ‘SOY WHITE MOCHA.’ It’s my usual order from the café nearby. I wrack my brain, figuring out who might have left this for me. My thoughts go to Fiona since she’s gotten me coffee before. But leaving it at my door isn’t her style. Plus, I just saw her in the office, and she said nothing about it.
Then I hear someone playing guitar scales behind me in the room across the hall. Cooper’s room. My stomach tightens at the thought of him buying me coffee, trying to butter me up and get on my good side.
My affections can’t be bought.
I practically stomp across the hall to tell him as much and give him a piece of my mind, but stop short in the doorway when I see only Ethan in the room. His gaze raises to meet mine, and his face reddens.
“Oh, hey, Ethan. How are you? I didn’t expect to find you here,” I smile awkwardly and catch myself so as not to sound too crazy because I’m feeling a bit out of it thinking about the prospect of Cooper buying me coffee. “I mean, this early. I didn’t expect you this early.”
His brow furrows slightly in confusion at my rambling, and I don’t blame him.
“I’m not that early,” he shrugs and clears his throat. “Cooper just went to the restroom and should be back soon.”
“Oh,” I say, turning to leave before this gets more awkward. “I just wanted to thank him for the coffee.” I raise my cup to prove that was why I crossed the hall in the first place and no other reason. It’s a lie but a reasonable excuse. Can you tell him for me?”
Ethan’s face turns unreadable, almost as if he’s angry now. I don’t understand why he would be upset about that, but I don’t stop to ask him about it as I hear the door to the men’s room down the hall squeak open.
Not waiting for Ethan to respond, I hurry across the hall before I can be caught near Cooper’s room. I think I make it without being seen, but I can’t be sure. I’m not going to check and give him a reason to expect me to visit his room regularly because that will not happen.
* * *
The following week, the coffee at the door of the piano studio continues, and I sigh at the thought of having to thank Cooper. It feels like admitting defeat somehow. Plus, it’s making me acknowledge that he’s shown up and on time for each class. It’s only been two weeks, so it still seems a little premature to start patting him on the back for doing the bare minimum of showing up, but it is impressing me for some reason.
I honestly didn’t think he would last this long.
During these two weeks, there haven’t been any new tabloid stories about him making a fool of himself at some club, either. In fact, there haven’t even been stories about him mentoring here, which is odd. If a reputation clean-up was the goal, which is what I thought this was, undoubtedly, that clean-up would need to happen in public. So why it hasn’t happened yet is a mystery.
I’m daydreaming about Cooper when Penny comes in for her class. She’s usually quietly cheerful, but today, her demeanor is dark, and I feel a negative energy radiate from her. Oddly, I catch her glare at my coffee cup briefly, which only confuses me more.
“Is everything okay, Penny? You seem a little out of sorts today. Did something happen?”
She freezes in place as if caught in headlights and almost looks scared, but her voice is stern. “What? No. I’m fine. I’m fine.” Fumbling with her backpack, she pulls out her songwriting notebook and sits at the piano. “Why would you ask that?”
I’m surprised by her sudden movements and mood shift. Something is definitely wrong with Penny, but I can’t force her to tell me what it is. I think she has a huge crush on somebody, but I don’t know who, and I’m unsure of their status. Maybe something happened between them recently, and she got her heart broken. Emotions at her age tend to be larger than reality, and everything is life or death, so the slightest problem can feel like the end of the world. The most negligible hurt is devastating.
I decide not to press her on it, mainly because it’s not my business, but also because I don’t want to open any wounds either. I think Penny knows me well enough that she knows she can talk to me if needed. Being my first student a few years ago, I’ve had the privilege of watching her talent blossom and bloom. She plays several instruments and is proficient in them all. She’s in several classes each session and is even in Cooper’s class right after mine.
She was made for music. Like me, she uses it as an escape and release. Sometimes, things are just easier to express when it’s in the form of a song. Its structure and melody hide the story’s personal truth and instead, share the emotion behind it with the listener. It becomes a shared experience rather than a testimony. That makes it a little less frightening and easier to put out into the world.
We worked on her song’s structure and basic melody during the first couple of weeks. Today, we’re going to dive into the lyrics. Maybe that will give me an idea of what’s happening with her. The homework was to come in today with some thoughts on a theme or starter lyrics we can work with, so hopefully, I’ll start to get some answers.
“Right. Let’s jump in,” I say, closing the door to the studio. As it starts to swing shut, I catch Cooper in the hallway, glancing my way. Our eyes meet for a split second, and goosebumps erupt on my skin, making me shiver. I quickly finish closing the door before the smile about to spread on my lips has a chance to make itself known to anyone.
What the hell is wrong with me? I can’t be smiling at Cooper Davies.
