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On Friday morning, my lesson with Penny starts out fine, but in the middle of the class, she bursts into tears out of nowhere.
“Penny, my goodness, what happened? Why are you so upset?” I put an arm over her shoulders as I sit beside her on the piano bench. She starts to shake as she sobs into her hands, trying to hide her face. I’ve never seen her like this before.
“Have you ever been in love with somebody who doesn’t even know you exist?” she asks between sniffles.
Where the hell did that come from?
“I’m pretty sure everyone has, why?” I start rubbing her back to calm her down with no clue where this is going. Her question makes me think her crush might be on Cooper, and it’s beginning to take its toll on her. “Is there something you want to talk about?”
“How did you deal with it? Like, how did you go on knowing they’d never feel the same way about you? How do I stop caring about them?”
“Oh, wow,” I say. That’s a lot to unpack. I can physically feel her heartbreak, though. Teenage love is the absolute worst. Even more so if it’s one-sided like Penny’s is. This poor girl. “That’s hard to say. Everyone deals with it differently.”
If only it was that simple. I want to tell her it gets easier, but I’d be lying. Even now, I replay each encounter - the charged glances, the electric touches with Cooper. Moments I did nothing about. Wishing I’d been braver at the time. And still hoping for a different outcome between us.
The dull ache never entirely goes away when it’s real. You simply learn to live with it. I want to warn her not to be like me, tortured by roads not taken and words left unsaid. Tell her to speak up before it’s too late. But I stay silent, not wanting to project my regrets onto her.
“I know. I’m sorry for asking. It’s just--” she hesitates, reluctant to go on.
“It’s just what?”
“It hurts.” Her red-rimmed eyes are so sad. It breaks my heart to see her like this.
“Oh, I know, honey,” I say, squeezing her shoulders tighter and starting to rock back and forth. “It gets easier. Eventually. You probably can’t imagine it now, but it gets better. Actually, this is where your songwriting can help. Writing a song has to come from a place of truth. Sometimes, pain, like the kind you’re going through, can be the best fuel for creativity. I mean, come on, look at Taylor Swift. A gazillion number-one songs about love gone wrong can’t be a fluke.”
She laughs reluctantly, wiping at her eyes. “I guess.”
“C’mon. Let’s finish reworking the bridge on your masterpiece and take our minds off all this stuff, okay?” I need to deflect, derail, and decompress the situation. It’s obvious she has a massive crush on Cooper. Hell, I don’t blame her. Apparently, I do, too, so this unrequited lovesong is only getting more and more personal.
For both of us.
* * *
After finishing my allotted time with Penny for the day, I take a minute to consider her earlier outburst. Actually, it’s all I could think about for the rest of our class. I’ve been in her shoes before, a huge fan of a musician, and so much so you think you have genuine feelings for them. It’s the first and best kind of love, mainly because it’s so impossible. It only feeds the imagination about such an unreachable dream.
But Penny’s situation is a bit different. She sees Cooper in person almost every day. That means it’s not so impossible in her mind. That could be dangerous. Emotions that big that aren’t returned can knock someone off balance, and the hurt involved could be devastating.
I need to talk to Cooper about it.
My next class is about to start, so I hurry across the hall and knock on his open door. He’s getting ready for his next lesson, but when he sees me at the door, there’s a little surprise, but he doesn’t give away any other emotion as he approaches.
“What is it? Is there something you need to talk to me about?” He’s all business and matter of fact, still with no emotion.
“Actually, yes, there is something I’d like to talk to you about. Any chance you could meet me for coffee after classes?” I try to make the invitation as casual and nonchalant as possible to not seem too eager to spend time with him. After our last interaction, the last thing I want to do is show interest, even though I’m still highly interested.
“Any chance of getting a preview of the topic?” He asks, his brow furrowing. Damn. Still no emotion. He’s good at that.
I debate how much to tell him now, but the issue is solved for me as his next student pushes past into the room.
“No preview, but it involves you.”
At least this gets an arched brow, so I’ve caught his attention.
After studying me briefly, he nods. “I can meet you.”
“Good. Be at the cafe down the street at 4:30.” I head back to my classroom, knowing he is watching me. My hips just happen to sway a little bit more as I walk.
And that, is what you are missing.
