Nocturne (25 page)

Not a word? Not a sign that he’d felt anything?

Tentatively, I followed him into the kitchen. He stood facing the center island, his arms trembling from the continuous exertion of our practice, his back to me.

I swallowed. I was afraid. I was afraid of what he might say right then. What was going through his mind? And so, slowly, I reached out and put my hand on his back, my fingers splayed out, feeling the tension in his shoulder and back muscles.

“I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“What?” I said. Stupidly.

“Savannah ... you’re a student. Can you imagine what it would do … my career... the conservatory ...”

I stared at him. Unable to move. Unable to think. He invited me over here to say
that?
“I see. Well …” I cleared my throat and took a deep breath. “I’ll, uh, just be on my way then. I’ll see you later this week, right? Wednesday? Let’s go back to the practice rooms, though, if you don’t mind.”

I hurried over to where my flute stood on its stand.

I disassembled it and put it away without drying out the inside first. I would do it later. Right now, I needed to get the hell out of Gregory Fitzgerald’s house without bursting into tears.

“Savannah, where are you going? We haven’t finished.” I couldn’t decipher if his tone had changed to one of arrogance again, or if it had remained the same this whole time and I’d become deaf to it. Either way, it infuriated me.

“We
are
finished. I’ll see you Wednesday.” Brushing past him and racing to the door and down the stairs, I mumbled, “I can’t believe I was so stupid …”

I grinned just slightly, imagining how up in arms he must feel to have a pissed off woman fleeing his apartment, on the brink of causing a scene. Gregory doesn’t
do
scenes. The grin didn’t last long though, as the weight of what I was actually feeling pressed down on my shoulders.

“Savannah,
wait.
” It wasn’t a yell, but his tone was commanding, sending chills down my spine.

I didn’t stop. He didn’t
get
to give me commands. I couldn’t turn around and face him. Not like this. He’d just made it very clear that what we were doing was an inconvenience. Some sort of a fling. Nothing that matched what I felt for him. He’d told me in Lenox that he was in love with me. And I believed him. Shit. I believed him, when all he wanted was to fool around with me behind closed doors. How did I fall into the pathetic professor/student stereotype?
God.

Shit.

After a few minutes, and rounding my second corner, his footsteps were no longer following me. Looking over my shoulder I found nothing but an empty sidewalk. I’d taken the back way around his block and was now at the end of Mt. Vernon St., taking a left onto West Cedar, the school in my sights.

I would ask Marcia to just do the piece with me for my recital. She’d love it. She was a little disappointed when I told her Gregory had offered to play with me, but as a musician she understood that he’d be able to pull my best out of me. Except for now. All he was able to pull out of me today was tears and the feeling of being cheap. Used. Part of some lonely musician’s premature mid-life crisis.

“Savannah! Stop!”

I did. Because it took me by surprise to see Gregory Fitzgerald running toward me. Running. I’d never seen him run, because he’s too important for things like rushing around. The world waits for him. Or, so he thinks.

As soon as it registered it was him, I walked faster. Not quite running, because I didn’t want to cause a scene. He caught up to me as I was about to turn left and make a break for the school. Wrapping his long fingers firmly around my upper arm, he spun me around. The force of the physics jam-up of our differing directions of movement caused us to slam into each other. His other hand grabbed my other shoulder and we stood there, unmoving, apart from our ragged breathing.

“What do you want?” I looked right into his eyes, not wanting to allow him respite from the hurt I knew would be washing through them.

People passed by on either side of us, hurrying to their appointments, classes, work, wherever. They had no idea I was staring into the eyes of the person I’d fallen unwillingly in love with. The person who held my heart in their hands. The person who’d just broken it by dismissing me so easily. So coldly.

“I’m sorry. That came out wrong back at my place. I didn’t … I didn’t want you to leave, Savannah. I just … this is new territory for me.”

“For
you?
Ah, yes, so you assume I’ve been down this road before. That screwing professors is just
something I do
.” I pulled back, wanting to sink through the sidewalk.

“Damn it, Savannah,” he huffed through clenched teeth, “that’s
not
what I meant.” His jaw beat against his cheek like a bass drum as he considered his next words. Carefully, and so only I could hear him, he said, “I’m madly in love with you, Savannah. Madly. I can’t remember when it started, or how we ended up
here
, but I love you. It makes no sense, it’s incredibly risky, and, for the life of me, I just don’t care. I froze up back at my place, and I’m sorry. I’ve just never felt like this before. About anyone.”

I relaxed a little, exhaling as I rested my forehead on his chin. Tilting my head back up, I saw his eyes were soft as he looked over my face expectantly.

“I love you, too, Gregory. And I don’t care, either.”

And right there, in broad daylight, on the corner of West Cedar and Acorn St., Gregory Fitzgerald pulled me into a deep, knee-weakening kiss.

And the world disappeared.

Savannah

A
n hour later I returned
to my dorm room. Breathless, and with weak legs, I’d walked around the block once to calm down after Gregory gave me a slow grin and turned to walk back to his place. He loved me. He said it. Again. I believed him because I had no reason not to. I loved him, too, and we were both keenly aware of the catastrophic risk we were taking. Turns out the Tin Man had a heart after all, and right there on the sidewalk he gave it to me. Risks and all.

“Well … you’re glowing,” Marcia deadpanned as I closed the door to our dorm and leaned my back against it.

“Mm-hmm.” I nodded, biting my lip as I fought off a foolish grin.

“I take it things went, uh, well at his place?” The way she arched her eyebrow caused me to blush even deeper.

I shook my head and made my way to sit next to her on her bed. “Not like that, Marcia. Jesus. We
do
practice, you know …”

“Uh-huh, in between heavy make out sessions?”

My smile faded as I looked to the floor.

“Hey,” she nudged me, “I’m just playing around. Not judging. I think it’s great … as long as you’re being careful.”

We
had
been careful, apart from that kiss on the busy Boston sidewalk an hour before. And Boston was a big city. No one has time to look around. For once, I was grateful for that.

“We are being careful, Marcia. No one sees—”

“I don’t mean just that, Savannah. I mean with your heart. I know he’s said he’s in love with you. And,
believe me
, if there was anyone on this planet that I would choose to thaw that frozen excuse for a soul of his it would be you, but just … be careful, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

I gave her a quick hug. “Thanks, Marcia.” I slid off her bed and bounced over to mine, picking up my phone.

“You should staple that thing to your forehead. It was ringing off the hook before you came back.”

As I scrolled through the missed calls, my smile faded, and I’m sure my glow dimmed to a panicked pallor. I had nine missed calls—all from Madeline’s office.

“What?” Marcia asked, her eyebrows moving together.

I shook my head in confusion as I dialed Madeline’s number.

“Madeline White.” She answered on the first ring, sounding less than calm.

“Madeline, it’s Sav—”

“Savannah, where the hell are you?” Her clipped, anxious tone set my heart racing.

“I’m … in my dorm … “

“Have you been there all afternoon?”

Swallowing hard, I shook my head as I answered, “No, why?”

“Come to my office. Now.” With that, she hung up. Madeline never used a tone like that.

Marcia never moved her eyes from the scene. “What’s going on?”

I cleared my throat. “That was, uh, Madeline.” Slowly, I stood and dropped my phone into my backpack and slid the straps over my shoulders.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” I lied. “She just needs to see me right away. See you later.”

There’s no way … 

I whispered that to myself over and over on my short walk to Madeline’s office. There was a way, however, and it was written all over her face as soon as I closed her office door behind me. She was standing cross-armed in front of her desk, leaning against it, not blinking. She didn’t look angry. Worse. She looked disappointed.

“I thought it was just the one kiss.” She cut right to the chase and I had no defenses. No excuses.

“I …”

“Damn it, Savannah, right on the street?” she yelled.

“Who—”

“Janna Wilson. And, probably her entire class since you chose the end of a period to make out with a professor in front of the school. What were you thinking? What was
he
thinking? Do you know what this could do to his career?” Madeline ran a hand through her hair, and I sat in the chair across from her, resting my forehead on my hands.

“Shit,” I whispered.

Janna Wilson was a sophomore flute player. I guess I should have been thankful she called our instructor, rather than absolutely anyone else. But gratefulness was hard to pick up off the floor, what with my dignity scattered all around it and all.

“It was just a kiss, Madeline, I swear. We’re not sleeping together. At least, not since school started again. We’ve just been working on the Assobio piece.” I said it as if, somehow, this would erase the gross breach in ethics we’d committed. More than once, whether anyone was watching or not.

In the several second silence that followed, my mind raced through all of the best and worst case scenarios. Best case? Only Janna, and now, Madeline knew. Worst case … worst case was that Gregory would find out people saw us. He would completely lose it. Madeline gently placed her hand on my shoulder.

“I didn’t realize ... you slept with him, Savannah?” She shook her head then spoke in a firm, clear voice. “This has to stop. Whatever the hell it is, it has to stop. Find another cellist to help you prepare your recital piece. Do not, under any circumstances, take any classes of his next semester. Cut off contact with him altogether. That’s all you can do at this point to prevent a mess.”

“For him,” I murmured.

“What?” When I looked up, I found Madeline looking confused.

“A mess for him, you mean. There’s never a mess for a student in a situation like this. You just said it. Do I know what this could do to his career? Of course I know. You and Gregory operate in a completely different world than I do. I get it, Madeline. He’s an elite musician. He’s with the
Boston Symphony
and the
New England Conservatory
and there can’t be any
scandal.
” I repeated the emphasis, finding myself increasingly sarcastic with every word.

I stood, watching Madeline’s mouth open and close a few times as she struggled to form a response.

Madeline spoke slowly. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I’ve known Gregory a long time, and—”

“Exactly,” I cut her off. “You’ve known him a long time, and he’s one of your best friends. This isn’t about me getting hurt, Madeline. It’s about making sure your friend doesn’t lose his job over some mistake with a student.”

I knew Madeline cared about me. She’d been in my life for several years, often acting as a mother figure when mine couldn’t be bothered to be around. And really, that’s what I needed right now. I was no kid, and I hadn’t needed a mother in a long time. But, sometimes a little understanding—a little care—makes all the difference in the world. What I needed was for her to understand that this could break my heart.

Instead, she was closing ranks.

In that moment, I’d never felt so isolated. I wasn’t part of their world. No matter how welcoming they tried to be, or how encouraging they’d been, I wasn’t one of them yet. One of the elite. Taking a quick glance around Madeline’s office, I knew I never wanted to be. Not if it made others feel the way I was feeling.

“Savannah …” Madeline’s shoulders sank in apparent defeat as I crossed back toward the door.

“Does he know yet? Gregory. Have you talked to him? Does he know that Janna saw?” Clenching my teeth, I gripped the door handle.

Madeline shot her eyes to the floor, without answering.

“Oh, of course,” I scoffed. “James. Well … thanks.” I clicked my tongue against my teeth once before taking a deep breath and leaving Madeline’s office without further discussion.

Once out on the street, I retraced my steps on my way back to Gregory’s home. I tried to breathe through the anger I felt simmering over Madeline’s allegiance to the faculty over what I’d perceived over the last several years to be her care for me. She had no choice. If it came down to it, she’d have to side with Gregory.