As Far as You'll Take Me - Phil Stamper Page 0,18

expression from here. We’ve both always had trouble celebrating our successes, so I should definitely find a way to drop this jealousy and be more supportive of him.

“Let’s celebrate tonight,” she says. “I’ll pop by the shop and get some bubbly. Oh, that reminds me—I got you groceries that should last for a while. I was going to cook, but between your audition and Marty’s big move, let’s do a proper Sunday roast down at the Alexandria. What do you say?”

We agree to dinner, and Shane and I start packing away the mounds of groceries. I see a few American staples slipped into the mix—boxed mac and cheese, peanut butter—which makes me smile.

“I had to raid the tiny American section for those,” she says with a laugh. “Want you to be as comfortable as possible. I’m really nervous about leaving you boys alone here all summer, but I’m so happy you’re here to keep Shane in check.”

She winks and Shane groans. I try not to let my anxiety show. Three months is not a long time.

“I’m just so glad Lizzie was okay with this. She still won’t return my calls, but I’ll do for a nice email every once in a while.” I flinch at the mention of my mother. At the mention of the email I wrote from my mom’s account, assuring Leah I’d be fine in London alone, all summer, with Shane. Somewhere, just outside my mind’s reach, is the knowledge that this is all going to crash down on me. But …

Once everything’s already crashed down on you before, how much worse could it get?

EIGHT

I have no idea what time it is. Strike that, I know it’s ten in the morning. But my body has no idea whether the sun is rising or setting, and the cloudy sky doesn’t help the confusion. Aunt Leah just left, and I’ve spent the last hour trying to get sorted, which is another British term I’ve decided to lift. “Sorted” sounds much more proper than “organized.”

My phone’s all set up, so naturally I’m already on an early-morning FaceTime call with Megan. She’s talking about her upcoming breakfast plans with Skye. I don’t bring up the fact that she outed me to him, and she doesn’t either. She’s got to know she made a mistake, but now that I think about it, she’s never admitted to a mistake before. So I don’t know what I’m expecting.

The whole time I half participate, focusing more on the new reeds I’m making for my oboe. Though I tell her briefly about Pierce. She goes on and on about how I should “kiss that bloke” and live my gay life to really stick it to my parents. But Shane comes in, and I don’t feel like talking about him anymore. I end the call and continue the meticulous process of making my own reeds.

It takes forever, and makes me wish I’d taken up the clarinet or something a little less hands-on, but it grounds me. There’s nothing that makes you feel more connected to your instrument than crafting the piece—shaving the thin pieces of wood, tying them together with string—that you use to actually make the music.

“You’re really in the zone there,” Shane says. He’s warming up his own instrument. Actually, just the mouthpiece, running a high-pitched duck call up and down in pitch until he feels his lips are warmed up enough to try it for real. He puts the mouthpiece in his French horn. “Duet?”

“Oboe and French horn?” I laugh. “That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Fine, a solo it is.”

He’s not the best technician, and I don’t think he’d ever claim to be, but you can tell he really gets music. He puts more feeling in what he performs than most, and it’s necessary—having the ability to emote makes him the perfect fit for a subtle, harmony-driven instrument like the horn.

His phone lights up with a text.

“That’s Pierce,” he says. If he’s feeling weird about Pierce after our conversation yesterday, he doesn’t say it. “They’re doing a jam session in the park after classes end. Want to join? They’re usually quite fun. Dani knows a marching band teacher from the States, and she gets sent all this commercial pop music. It’s not super challenging, but after the days they have at the academy, it’s nice to unwind.”

“Oh, um, sure.” I think back to something Megan told me before I got out of the car at the airport. “Say yes to everything. Even

readonlinefreenovel.com Copyright 2016 - 2024