In Waves | ✔️

37 | the leap

In the music room at school, I'm thinking about how much has changed since the beginning of the semester. 

If the first surf lesson I had with Nate was as grueling as my last one, I would have immediately quit. But agreeing to continue when I felt so close to drowning, I think that must be the epitome of being out of my comfort zone.

I'm kind of angry that it took me so long to get here. If I had done it at the beginning of high school, would the years behind me be any different? I still love being alone in my room, but it's like I was scared of the unknown. And now that I've got a taste of it, I'm kicking myself for being so scared in the first place.

Then again, who's to say the unknown would have been like this when I was a freshman. Maybe I would have been too young. Maybe all the right pieces wouldn't have fallen into place back then.

But they have now, and I guess all I can do is savor it. Not have regrets or waste away the time I have left in school, just like Rob told me on the first day.

Something crashes behind me and pulls me from my reverie, my fingers ripping from the piano keys. I spin around to find Matt picking up the music stand he must have knocked over.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you stop playing, I—" He grabs the stand to stop it from falling again, steadying it like a fragile vase on a precarious pedestal. It's cute seeing him get clumsy, because he never does.

I fold my hands in my lap. "How long have you been in here?"

"Long enough for you to blow my mind." Matt leaves the stand, carefully weaving through the others to get to me in the corner. "I mean I knew you could play, but I didn't know you could play play." He bends down to hug me from behind on the bench, his lips grazing my ear. "How many secret talents are you hiding from me?"

"I'm not hiding any." I laugh, pulling him around to sit. "I just don't really like playing piano in front of people."

"Well that's a shame. You're depriving them. Don't you think that's a little selfish?"

"If people don't even know what they're being deprived of, then it's not really selfish, is it?"

"Actually that might make it more selfish." He grins, taking my hand from my lap. "You know, my dad has a bunch of connections up in New York. He's probably got a friend who could get your foot in the door at Julliard or something."

"Julliard?" I choke. "You know how hard it is to—that's like the most prestigious—the acceptance rate is basically non-existent!"

"Basically, but not totally."

"This is a hobby. You know I can't even read music."

"Still plenty of time to learn." He shrugs, tracing his fingers over mine. "There could be a world famous pianist dying to get out of these hands."

I let out an incredulous laugh. "I just told you I don't like playing in front of people. What makes you think fame would appeal to me?"

"Deep down, fame appeals to everyone, Lee. Think about it. You up on the stage in Carnegie Hall, a packed house, all eyes on you, all ears on you."

"That sounds... terrifying."

Matt laughs, moving her fingers along my palm. "I'd be there, too. Right in the front row. And instead of throwing roses on stage like everyone else, I'd throw peonies so you knew which ones were mine."

"Hm, less terrifying. But still... nope." I flip our hands so I can take over, running my fingertips over the lines of his palm like a psychic. "Let's just stick with you being the famous one. Getting drafted by the NFL looks like pretty promising cards for your future."