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That makes me pull up. “Wait. Almost everyone? Who’s got issues with me?” Not that I doubt someone would have a problem, but this is the first I’m hearing about it. I would think something would have been brought to my attention before now. At least, I hope it would.
“I can’t tell you the student’s name for privacy and potential retaliation reasons, but--”
“Whoa. Wait a sec. Do you honestly think I would retaliate against a student who complained about me? Do you think I’m that big of an asshole?”
She stares at me for a second too long before answering. “No, of course not. We do this for all students and mentors to encourage positive interactions in the classroom and out. Students need to feel safe in expressing themselves honestly. Especially these kids who don’t always have that kind of safety at home. It’s important to me here.”
I realize then that the second she took to respond was to consider her words, not that she doubted my honor. I then take some time to think about what she’s said. She’s right, of course. These kids don’t have much, so they need to cling to what safety they have here. Far be it from me to upset that delicate balance.
I nod in agreement. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just got a little defensive. Is there any feedback you can give me about the problem so I can fix it?”
Her smile is back, and it’s of approval this time. I don’t know why, but having her approval for something made my day.
I’m so fucking screwed.
She skims the file one more time and says, “Well, this student would like a little more focus on the song they want to learn and not so much on ‘stupid form practice.’”
I instantly know who it is.
Ethan.
That little shit.
I nod solemnly in silence as if taking in the grand wisdom of the suggestion. Which, of course, is total bullshit. He’s not going to learn anything if he doesn’t master the fucking basics first. It’s been interesting how our relationship has changed over these three weeks. What started as a fan wanting to learn his favorite band’s song has morphed into a disgruntled teenager, crabby because he’s not getting his way.
This isn’t the first time I’ve thought about this. I’ve felt it shift over time, so hearing it from Sloane isn’t as big of a shock as it could have been. I’ve suspected it all along.
“Okay, so here’s my question. Since I’ve never been a mentor before, I might be fucking up the whole thing.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Thanks. So, what if Eth—the student is wrong?” I catch myself from saying Ethan’s full name, but I can tell by the slight flash in Sloane’s eyes that she knows that I know. “What if they really do need to work on their form more than learning my stupid song?”
“Is their form that bad? Or are you maybe being a bit stringent?” She cocks her head thoughtfully at me. “It’s possible you’re both right and wrong simultaneously, no?”
I carefully consider Ethan’s technique and application to the song. Am I being too hard on him? Is he right?
I shake my head when I get to my internal answer. “Nope. Not possible. He, I mean, they, whoever they are, need to work on their form, or else this is all just to teach someone to be a mimic. I don’t think that’s in the mission statement of this place, is it?”
She cracks a slight smile and nods. “It is not.”
“Then I’m going to keep doing what I’m doing. The kid can hate me all they want, but I’m here to make them a better guitar player, not a better Murderous Crows cover band.”
I shiver internally at the thought. I’d never considered we’d have bands covering our songs. In the scheme of things, we just wrote them. There’s no way someone else would want to learn all of them already. But, I guess stranger things have happened.
And usually to us.
“Well then, Cooper, I support your decision to keep the status quo.” She stands, indicating our meeting is now over.
I don’t want it to be over. She just said my name again, and the sound of it passing her lips is like a balm for my troubled soul. I want to hear her say it over and over again in every way imaginable.
My thoughts head directly south without passing Go or collecting two hundred dollars, and I stand along with her, not sure what to do with my hands suddenly. I’m starting to act like Ethan around her now, too. Fantastic.
“So we ran kind of late with the time mixup and stuff. Would you want to maybe, possibly, I don’t know, go and grab something to eat? Or a drink, maybe?” She immediately looks like a deer caught in headlights. Fuck. “Or, you know what? Forget I asked. Nevermind. That was inappropriate of me to even consider, right? Just.. never mind. Cool? Cool.” The words stumble out of my mouth, and I couldn’t stop them if I tried, which I am doing. I’m trying not to word vomit all over her, but I can’t stop once I start.
I turn and almost run out of her office before she can utter a single syllable of rejection in my general direction. I don’t need to hear it. I can see it plainly on her face. And now I’m going to need to act like this never happened going forward, which will be impossible.
What the fuck was I thinking? Sloane has made it plenty clear she can’t stand me. Pursuing anything beyond a professional relationship is pointless.
