Touching Melody - By RaShelle Workman Page 0,15

separated, but together bring my face to scalding.

You have it bad.

I take a deep breath, working to convince myself it’s not true. Too much time has gone by. Too much has happened. Any feelings I’m harboring are residual from when I was younger. I’ve seen the way the current Kyle acts, and there is nothing about him to like. Definitely not love.

Except his smile.

And his eyes.

And the way he moves, like a predator stalking its prey. Lithe. Liquid.

I shake my head and try to glare.

Gina covers her mouth with a hand, stifling a laugh.

I face forward, forcing myself to listen to Ms. Spears and her overdramatic ruminations.

When class is over I follow Gina out. I have Biology next. First I need to grab my book and a pencil.

“Who is he?” Gina asks when we’re outside.

I ignore her, focusing on the landscape surrounding us: The pine trees and the wild daisies, the rose bushes and the crabapple trees. In the distance are the Rocky Mountains. The grass on campus is lush and green. With Wyoming’s harsh winters, it won’t last much longer. I sigh and inhale a deep breath. The air is crisp.

“Maddie?” she says, smacking my arm.

“What?” I respond automatically, then sigh heavily. I’ve got to tell her something. Not that Kyle was my first crush, or the first and only person I dreamed of marrying. I won’t tell her how his father killed my parents or that he might hurt me. I don’t tell her any of that. Instead I say, “He’s just some guy from the party last night.”

“Shit. What happened? You act like you’re ready to have his babies.” Gina is half running to keep up with me and still be able to see my face.

“No I'm not,” I say, stomping toward Irvine Hall.

“Um, yeah.” Gina laughs. “He’s cute, and you’re smitten. Is he good in bed? Is that why you left last night? You two hooked up?”

“Stop,” I tell her, picking up my pace. I don’t want to talk about this. It infuriates me that I don’t have more sense, more control over my reaction to him. He doesn’t remember me, and honestly a lot about a person can change in seven years. I’ve changed. The last time he saw me I was a happy, altruistic, glass-half-full kind of girl.

Not anymore.

I take the elevator up to the tenth floor. Gina follows. I cross my arms and turn away.

She doesn’t say anything until we’re in our room.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” She sits on her bed and I finally take the time to really look at her. Not too many minutes ago she was a ball of broken curled on her bed, hugging a teddy bear to death. Her eyes are still kind of wild, and she’s jittery. I’m guessing too much coffee.

“Never mind.” I pick up my biology book, a spiral notebook, and a pencil. “I’ve got biology. What about you?”

She flips on her stereo, blaring it loud, and I get the feeling she’s mad.

“Gina?” I touch her on the arm.

She jumps, like I’ve physically hurt her. I quickly tuck my hands behind my back.

She rubs her nose with a finger, sniffles. “I don’t have another class until one o’clock.” She picks up her purse and goes to the door. “I’ve got to pee. Want to meet at Perky’s for lunch?”

“Sure.” But she’s already gone.

8

Maddie

Less Time to Pine

It’s been a week since I’ve seen Kyle, and I’m glad.

So glad.

Not! My insides ache for him.

I search for him, too. Especially in the cafeteria, and at English. He’s the TA of Ms. Spears' class. Doesn’t that mean he’s required to be there? He isn’t around, though. I can’t help but wonder why. Is he okay? Is he avoiding me?

I’ve been keeping busy. Going to my classes, practicing piano, and doing homework. Professor Jenkins, my music teacher, loved the piece I played for him. Said I have a real future—whatever that means—and asked me to play a duet for the end of year Winter Gala. I agreed, of course. Playing will guarantee me another full ride scholarship. Next Monday I’m supposed to meet my partner so we can choose our song and begin practicing together. The Professor didn’t give me a name. He was mysterious about it.

The prospect of doing something musical calms my nerves. It means less time to spend thinking about Kyle. Less time to pine.

I hope.

Because it seems no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop