enough to keep him from burning it all down around them, but he had no faith.
This had to be enough. It had to be.
Nik’s thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell, and he let out a bone-deep sigh. Catherine had finally relented and snagged his Tuesday afternoon slot that he had been previously using as his own composing time. He knew he couldn’t exactly turn his nose up at new students, but her attitude had put him off, and in his own mind, she was already on probation.
He ran his hands down his shirt to make sure he was at least somewhat in order, then made his way to the front door and held it. Her cloying perfume hit his nose first—the same scent he’d noticed at the concert, only freshly applied.
His temples throbbed, but he still offered a smile as he gestured for them to both come inside. “Bryce, Miss Peters, it’s good to see you again.”
“This is weird,” Bryce complained as he stomped inside. “You’re like…my teacher, but I’m in your house.”
“Bryce, do not be rude,” his mom chastised.
“It’s fine,” Nik said, waving her off. “It’s like running into your teacher at the grocery store, right? I mean, you know they’re regular people who probably do eat Lucky Charms, but it’s strange to think of them that way.”
Bryce huffed. “I guess.”
And this is going well, Nik thought to himself as he turned and headed for the stairs. “So, the piano room is on the second floor. You’re welcome to join us, Miss Peters, but I have a strict rule about parents interfering with the lesson, and if you feel like it would be easier to wait downstairs…”
“Bryce would prefer me there,” she said.
“I don’t care, Mom,” the boy complained as he tromped up with heavy steps behind Nik.
Nik sighed to himself. “Let’s see how today goes first. We’re going to assess your skill, run through your scales, and then talk a little bit about note-reading.”
“Why do I have to read notes if you don’t?” Bryce demanded as Nik led the way into the practice room.
His steps faltered and he turned. “What do you mean?”
“You can’t see the notes, but you play. So why do I have to read them?” Bryce asked.
Nik fought the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose—or even throw them out. Kids asked honest questions—sometimes painfully so—but Bryce was rude. Worse than he was in class, and Nik had to wonder if he was acting out because his mother was there watching him.
“I do read notes,” he said eventually. He turned away again and walked toward the table, his hands pulling out the sheets he’d been brailling over the last few days. They were starting to come together as something new and different, and maybe a little strange, but the song was making him feel something. “I read braille notes. And you’re welcome to try and learn that if you like, but it’s a lot of memorizing since I can’t read and play at the same time.”
Bryce made a tsk noise under his breath but said nothing.
“I know you’re familiar with sheet music from class,” Nik said, putting on his teaching voice. “And piano music isn’t much different—there are just layers to it. But I don’t want to focus on that right now. Have you ever played?”
“My mom showed me how to do some stuff on our keyboard,” Bryce muttered.
Nik’s jaw tensed. “Right. Well, you will need a full-sized piano or keyboard to practice at home. As I told your mom, you need to work at least an hour a day if you want these lessons to be worth it.”
Bryce said nothing, and in the heavy silence, Nik gestured in the direction of the piano, and he eventually heard the boy take a seat.
“Play me what you know,” Nik said, then walked over and laid his hand on the side of the piano to keep himself oriented.
Bryce cleared his throat, then wriggled, making the bench squeak. He tested out a few keys, then after a long hesitation, went into a sloppy, one-handed rendition of the Chop Waltz’s opening notes. He went through it three times, then the music faded, and Nik swallowed down his irritation.
“Anything else?”
“That’s all I know,” came Catherine’s voice from behind Nik.
He turned his head. “I don’t expect you to be a teacher or skilled in the piano. And, at this point, all of my questions will be directed at Bryce.”
She made an annoyed noise in the back of her throat, but