up the courage to reach out. I know it was inexcusable.
Jonas: Thanks for saying that.
Me: So…is this your way of blowing me off? If so, that’s totally fair. I just figured I’d ask.
Jonas: Just…give me some time, okay?
Me: Of course.
It wasn’t what I’d hoped for, but it wasn’t total rejection either.
CHAPTER NINE
Having some distance from Sean and not having Jonas to talk to left me floundering the next week. I hadn’t been willing to tell Tara or Felicity about the situation with Jonas, so I was alone with my thoughts for the most part. I did text Sean to check up on him a couple times, and he called me at least once a day, sometimes asking me to play my beat-up piano for him since he couldn’t find anything good to listen to. I acquiesced but usually kept the calls fairly short. I needed the break from Sean. I needed room to breathe.
Solo/ensemble day came, and I found myself on a bus full of students as we traveled to the nearby university for the day. I schlepped my rolling suitcase full of sheet music from classroom to classroom as each student or group of students performed. We broke for lunch and I comforted a girl who was crying in the bathroom after receiving a score of three on her solo. I felt bad for her. She had stretched herself too thin, performing in a quartet, a trio, a small choir, and by herself. Unfortunately it was her solo that suffered, and she took it really hard.
I texted Felicity that evening and told her about the student crying in the bathroom.
Felicity: Do you think it’s requisite in life that all girls have at least one crying-in-the-bathroom experience?
Me: Sounds about right. Though I had a lot more than one.
Felicity: You? Crying over music?
Me: Ha. No. Me crying over boys.
Felicity: Ah. That makes much more sense.
The next few days were a relief and a disappointment. I was happy to have the work and stress of my students’ competition over, but having more time just highlighted the fact that I had yet to hear from Jonas. Not that I blamed him. If he chose never to respond, that would be completely understandable. But I desperately hoped that he would.
♪♫♪
I texted Naomi as I ate dinner by myself on Monday, lamenting the status of my love life. She commiserated with me as I complained about the difficulties I was now entrenched in due to my complicated friend.
Then my phone lit up with Jonas’s name and I lit up with nerves and squeaky girly feelings. I abandoned the text thread and accepted the call.
“Hi,” I answered.
“So, about that cowboy hat…”
It took me a moment to recognize the reference, then I sputtered a laugh as relief washed through me.
“If you’d be up for going back to Roy’s, I got one for each of us.”
“Really?” I asked, surprised and delighted.
“Yours is pink.”
I snorted. “And what color is yours?”
“Charcoal gray.”
“So you’re classy and I’m sassy?”
“I like the sound of that.”
“When did you have in mind?” Tonight? Please let it be tonight. I’d waited long enough to see him again. So right now would be the optimal time.
“Sunday night?”
Six days. Not ideal, but I could roll with it.
“It’s a date.”
I hung up a few minutes later and leaned back into my couch cushions with a sigh. Jonas had forgiven me. He was going to take me out.
♪♫♪
Tara came over on Sunday to help me raid my closet in preparation for my date. She slid one hanger at a time across the rod as she talked. “So what look are we aiming for? Are you going full-on honky tonk? Should I be looking for flannel and denim?”
I snorted. “There’s not a dress code.”
“Just checking.” She pulled out a top and tossed it to me without looking. It hit me in the face and I tried it on. Once we settled on an outfit, we sent photos to Felicity for approval. She told me to switch earrings and wear a shorter skirt. I switched the earrings.
Before Tara left, she gave me a huge hug. “I’m so excited for you! I hope you have an amazing time.”
Jonas knocked at six thirty on the dot, and when I opened the door, I saw that he was indeed wearing a charcoal-gray cowboy hat. One that was clearly meant for a child. It perched precariously on his head.
“I was right,” I said, leaning on the door frame and looking him up and down. “You are