Connection (Le Garde) (7 page)

“
Okay,” I echoed.

What if I told her about Aaron? What would she say? She’d probably tell me to go to bed because I wasn’t getting enough sleep. Or call up the priest and ask him to pray over me. Maybe those weren’t such bad ideas.

* * *

The next day, I was midway through Yearbook when my phone rang. Ms. Friars was a pretty relaxed teacher, but even she didn’t like us talking on the phone in class. I saw it was Melissa and texted her. Obviously I was in class. Why was she calling?

She texted back,
I have the chicken pox! Call me asap!

I groaned.

“
What is it?” Steven asked, leaning toward me from his computer.

“
It’s Melissa, she has chicken pox!” I said.

Steven laughed. “Chicken pox? She’s a little old to be getting chicken pox, isn’t she?”

I saved my work on the volleyball page, then asked Ms. Friars if I could go to the bathroom. I called Melissa and, sure enough,
chicken pox
. She probably wouldn’t be able to do the duet with me at the Spring concert. Mr. Boyd was going to panic. And probably take it out on me.

Next class period, I walked into Band. The classroom was covered in portraits of musicians through the years. Mr. Boyd also taught weird electives like History of Rock Music. He was cool when he wasn’t stressing himself and everyone else out about concerts and performances. By cool, I don’t mean relaxed—that would probably never be a word to describe Mr. Boyd—but he was a good teacher.

I set my clarinet case down on my seat, took a deep breath, and turned to Mr. Boyd. “Hey, Mr. Boyd.”

“
Hello, Anna,” he said as he set up his music stand. His bowl haircut was in need of trimming. He kept flicking the hair out of his eyes, but it just fell into his line of vision again. He kind of let go of himself when performances were coming up.

“
I just talked to Melissa. She has the chicken pox.”

Mr. Boyd’s eyes widened and fixed on me. “What?” he said, raising his voice. “Where the hell did she get chicken pox?”

“
Her little brother has it.”

“
She’s never had chicken pox? How old is she, eighteen?”

I just shrugged, even though I knew she was only fifteen. “She doesn’t think she’ll be able to make the concert.” Somewhere behind us, I was aware of Aaron coming into the room.

“
Are you sure? Is she sure? Chicken pox don’t last that long, do they?”

“
The concert’s in two days.”

“
I know that,” Mr. Boyd snapped. He scratched his head, heaving a sigh. “We’ll have to think of something else. It’s right after—wait!” His neck snapped up. I followed his eyes; he was looking at Aaron, who was taking his sax out of his case. Oh, no.

“
Aaron!” he exclaimed.

Aaron looked up. I tried to hide my dread, but there was really no point around him. Just a habit, I guess, trying not to let people see what I really felt. Aaron was the one person I couldn’t hide from, but it didn’t stop me from trying most of the time.

For a moment, I wondered what it’d be like if I just gave in—just let go of the past, forgave him, became friends with him again, spent every day with him like I used to. I couldn’t deny it was tempting to just fall back into that comfortable routine I’d relied on for so many years, but it had hurt like hell when he deserted me. I didn’t know if I could risk that again.

“
Aaron,” Mr. Boyd repeated. “You know The Entertainer,
right?”

Aaron paused, half-glancing at me. “Um.
 
.
 
.I think so. That’s what Anna and Melissa are doing on Thursday, right?”

“
Melissa has chicken pox!” Mr. Boyd said like he’d never heard anything more ludicrous.

“
Really?” Aaron asked with surprise.

He was talking to me, but Mr. Boyd answered, “Yes! Can you play it with Anna?”

I didn’t know what to think. I’d been practicing hard for this duet, even though it was probably something Aaron had learned in a couple hours. My mom had even requested work off early since usually she worked late on Thursdays. I wanted to do it, of course, but with Aaron? After what happened at the library?

Aaron looked at me with uncertainty. “Um, if it’s okay with Anna.”

Sure, put it on me to say no.

“
You’re okay with it, right?” Mr. Boyd asked. I hardly had a chance to nod my head when he said, “Great! Can you be ready by Thursday? Should we have a special practice after today?”

“
I know it,” Aaron assured him. “I might need some sheet music, though.”

“
I’ll get you some,” Mr. Boyd said. “I know I have some copies in my office. I’ll get them right now.”

I walked to my seat and gave Aaron a small smile. “Thanks.”

“
Yeah, sure,” Aaron said. He was pleased, though I wasn’t sure why. Because he could do the duet with me? Because I wasn’t ignoring him like last week? He cleared his throat, glancing at Harry, another sax player. “You all right after yesterday?” he asked me, dropping his voice.

I shrugged. “I guess. You want to practice after school?”

“
Sure. Maybe we could get some more homework done, too.”

I wanted to say,
As long as you don’t touch me
, but I thought that might send the wrong message to the people around us.

* * *

After school, I walked with Steven to my locker. “What are you going to do about your duet with Melissa?” he asked.

“
Aaron is going to take her place,” I said.

“
Oh, yeah?” Steven asked. I could tell he was feigning indifference as he leaned against the locker next to mine.

“
Yeah, he already knows it,” I said with a shrug. “I guess we could have cancelled it, but you know Mr. Boyd. And, well, I’m kind of excited to do it.”

Steven grinned and punched me in the arm. “Yeah, you’ll be great.” His grin faded a bit as he saw something down the hall. I followed his gaze to where Jordan was talking with Chandler.

My stomach tightened, and I hoped Jordan wasn’t at the concert on Thursday. I grabbed my clarinet from my locker and turned to Steven. “I’m going to go practice.”

“
Have fun.” He paused. “Text me when you’re done.”

After shutting my locker, I kissed him and went toward Mr. Boyd’s classroom. I felt Aaron as I came closer. He played a pop song with his sax, hitting each note perfectly. He glanced up at me and ended the song on a melodious tone. He liked doing sax covers of the Top 40s. He’d actually been the main reason I picked up the clarinet instead of a flute or a brass instrument. My mom wanted me to start an instrument, and back in freshman year, Aaron and I had still been best friends. It seemed natural for us to have instruments that complemented one another.

I probably never would have joined band if he hadn’t been in it with me; even this year, I pulled some strings with my guidance counselor to make sure we were in the same period. At the beginning of high school, I could hardly keep up a rhythm without him next to me. Now, I was better because of practice, but I was still behind most other people in our class. When I wasn’t around Aaron. Since he was there during band and concerts, I did pretty well. It was bad when he was absent. My clarinet partners would look at me like I had forgotten the entire song. Usually, I had.

I gave him a few claps as I walked to my usual seat. He bowed a little bit, making me giggle. “Don’t upstage me at the concert,” I told him.

“
I would never,” he said, his eyes sparkling.

I took my clarinet out of its case and played a few scales. “Where’s Mr. Boyd?”

“
He’s in his office. He just told me to swing by when we’re done.”

“
Sweet.” I set up my music stand. “You got the sheet music?”

“
Yep. You want to play through it once?”

“
Sure.”

We played through, but I messed up around my usual spot, when things picked up. Aaron gave me a few pointers, and we made it through the entire thing the second time. The notes looked different when I was in Aaron’s presence. My fingers seemed to move of their own accord. I adopted Aaron’s easy attitude with the music, shedding my nerves as the song went on.

After we finished, he grinned at me. “That sounded great.”

“
It’s so much easier to play with you.” 

“
Really?” He shifted his sax, his wave of delight washing over both of us.

“
Yeah. It’s awesome.” My cheeks warmed, and I shrugged. “Want to go again?”

We played it a couple more times and we sounded flawless together. I couldn’t believe what our minds could do when put together. I even started improvising a little bit, and we played a little jig afterwards. I felt like he was Charlie Parker
and I was playing a solo during one of his concerts.

Aaron taught me
I’ve Got the World on a String
by Frank Sinatra, and we played it more times than we had played The Entertainer. I even started singing, though I’d only heard the song a couple times before. I jumped on the chairs and hopped from one to the other. When we approached the end, I threw my arms wide and sang the last words loudly while Aaron ended with a loud, impressive trill. We laughed, and I jumped off my chair.

“
That was great,” Aaron said, grinning.

“
I don’t think we need to practice anymore.” My stomach hurt from laughing. “We’re going to put everyone else to shame.”

“
Definitely,” Aaron said with a laugh.

I set my clarinet in its box. “Want to do some homework?”

I wondered what others might think of our choice to do homework instead of going home early. They didn’t know, though, what this was like. This was one of those times when it was so natural, so
right
. It actually wasn’t too hard to ignore what happened at the library when I was having fun with Aaron.

“
Oh, right, I need to do my
1984
paper,” he said.

“
You think the computer lab’s open?” 

“
We can go see.”

As we walked through the halls, the school was quiet and deserted. There were a few teachers, and we passed one classroom where chess club was meeting.

“
It’s like a horror movie,” Aaron said.

We reached the computer lab, but it was closed. “And it’s only four o’clock!” Aaron said.

“
Four o’clock?” I repeated, my eyes wide. “We’ve been practicing that long? I told my mom I’d be home by four-thirty.”

Aaron groaned. “That sucks.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, and I knew he wanted to ask to come over, but didn’t want to seem pushy. Well, I had some algebra homework to get done, too.

It wasn’t hard to ignore what I’d been thinking about earlier, either, how I didn’t want to risk being hurt by him again. It was just homework.

I let out a sigh. “You want to come over? I’ll have to call my mom first.”

Aaron shrugged, but I could feel his excitement. “Okay, sure.” He and Steven both. What was with guys hiding their feelings? Not like I was much better.

I texted my mom, and while we were waiting for her to get a break so she could call me, Aaron drove me back to my house. He said he could at least give me a ride home. As we pulled up to my house, my phone rang.

“
Bonjour, Mama
,” I answered.

“
Bonjour
,
Anna
.
Qu’est-ce que c’est
?” she asked.
What is it?

I glanced at Aaron. My mom had always liked him, but she’d been wary about everyone the last year. “Can Aaron come over so we can do some homework?” I asked in French.

After a moment of silence, she asked, “Aaron? Are you two friends again?”

“
I don’t know. I’m just helping him with Composition.”

“
You’re not doing his work for him, are you?”

“
No, of course not.” Not according to the traditional definition, at least. “We just need to use the computer, but the lab at the school was closed. We would go to the library, but Allie should get home in fifteen minutes or so.”

“
Hm, okay. I suppose. I want him gone by six, okay? I’ll text Ginger to make sure.”

“
Okay, that’s fine. Should be more than enough time.” I said goodbye to her, then smiled at Aaron. “Okay. You have to leave by six, though.”

“
We better make some headway,” Aaron said as he turned off the ignition.