Page 62
Story: Unrecognizable Player
I’m so distracted by what happened last night that when Professor Lisette starts talking about the performance we have at the library tonight, it jolts me violently back to reality. I feel Alice’s eyes on me while I pack my violin away.
“Come on, tell me what’s going on, I’m not dropping it until you do.”
I pop the last clasp in place, still unable to look her in the eye. “I just forgot we had a performance tonight.”
“That’s not it, you were weird before she started talking about the performance.”
“I’m just tired, honest.” I hate lying to her, but it just doesn’t feel right telling her about the kiss. I think about the panic on Alexei’s face and my heart aches.
“Hmm.” She keeps in step beside me, my skin prickling at the thought of what she might ask next. What lies I’ll have to come up with.
“So you and Alexei got drunk together.”
“We didn’t get drunk, we had one glass of vodka.” Barely even that.
“Did he meet you at your parents’ restaurant?”
“Yep.”
“What did they think of him?”
“They liked him I guess.” I shrug.
“Hmm.”
I give her the side-eye, but she ignores me.
“So seeing as you two are getting along so well, you guys won’t mind coming to dinner with Micha and I sometime next week.”
The panic in Alexei’s eyes as he pulled away from our kiss tells me otherwise.
“I don’t mind going to dinner with you, but I can’t speak for Alexei.”
“Why not? Did you guys have a vodka-infused row or something?”
Try a vodka-infused kiss.
“No.” I force a laugh. “I just can’t speak for him, that’s all.”
“Hmm.”
“Stop that.”
The apartment isempty when I get home. A big ball of disappointment sits on my chest at the thought of Alexei avoiding me. Yes, him kissing me felt nice. But becoming friends with him also felt nice. Actually, watching house flipping shows and going ice skating with Alexei without any of the romantic stuff felt nicer than anything with Dorian ever felt. And now I might lose all that because he’s freaked out about a kiss.
I logon to Bookgeeks and send a message to Kelsier38. If I can’t talk to Alice - or anyone who actually knows Alexei - about this, then maybe I can talk to someone anonymous?
RedRum237: I have a bit of a problem, I’m wondering if you could give me some advice. I know you don’t want us to meet, and that’s fine, I’ve come to terms with it, so I hope I’m not out of line by telling you this.
I’ve been building up a new friendship with this guy, and something happened between us, and now I think the friendship might be ruined, and I really don’t want it to be.
What should I do?
The second I hit send, I feel better. Lighter. My mom always told me a problem shared is a problem halved and this is the first time I’ve actually believed her. I know I should feel some sort of loss over Kelsier38, but when I think about Alexei and how real he is, I don’t.
I have to get ready for the performance, so I close the computer down and take a shower before changing into my performance suit.
It’s just as stuffy as ever. The collar biting into my neck. The armpits chafing against my clammy skin. Why do we have to wear this stuff to perform? Music isn’t supposed to be stuffy and formal. It’s supposed to be freeing, like the music we play at the restaurant.
“Come on, tell me what’s going on, I’m not dropping it until you do.”
I pop the last clasp in place, still unable to look her in the eye. “I just forgot we had a performance tonight.”
“That’s not it, you were weird before she started talking about the performance.”
“I’m just tired, honest.” I hate lying to her, but it just doesn’t feel right telling her about the kiss. I think about the panic on Alexei’s face and my heart aches.
“Hmm.” She keeps in step beside me, my skin prickling at the thought of what she might ask next. What lies I’ll have to come up with.
“So you and Alexei got drunk together.”
“We didn’t get drunk, we had one glass of vodka.” Barely even that.
“Did he meet you at your parents’ restaurant?”
“Yep.”
“What did they think of him?”
“They liked him I guess.” I shrug.
“Hmm.”
I give her the side-eye, but she ignores me.
“So seeing as you two are getting along so well, you guys won’t mind coming to dinner with Micha and I sometime next week.”
The panic in Alexei’s eyes as he pulled away from our kiss tells me otherwise.
“I don’t mind going to dinner with you, but I can’t speak for Alexei.”
“Why not? Did you guys have a vodka-infused row or something?”
Try a vodka-infused kiss.
“No.” I force a laugh. “I just can’t speak for him, that’s all.”
“Hmm.”
“Stop that.”
The apartment isempty when I get home. A big ball of disappointment sits on my chest at the thought of Alexei avoiding me. Yes, him kissing me felt nice. But becoming friends with him also felt nice. Actually, watching house flipping shows and going ice skating with Alexei without any of the romantic stuff felt nicer than anything with Dorian ever felt. And now I might lose all that because he’s freaked out about a kiss.
I logon to Bookgeeks and send a message to Kelsier38. If I can’t talk to Alice - or anyone who actually knows Alexei - about this, then maybe I can talk to someone anonymous?
RedRum237: I have a bit of a problem, I’m wondering if you could give me some advice. I know you don’t want us to meet, and that’s fine, I’ve come to terms with it, so I hope I’m not out of line by telling you this.
I’ve been building up a new friendship with this guy, and something happened between us, and now I think the friendship might be ruined, and I really don’t want it to be.
What should I do?
The second I hit send, I feel better. Lighter. My mom always told me a problem shared is a problem halved and this is the first time I’ve actually believed her. I know I should feel some sort of loss over Kelsier38, but when I think about Alexei and how real he is, I don’t.
I have to get ready for the performance, so I close the computer down and take a shower before changing into my performance suit.
It’s just as stuffy as ever. The collar biting into my neck. The armpits chafing against my clammy skin. Why do we have to wear this stuff to perform? Music isn’t supposed to be stuffy and formal. It’s supposed to be freeing, like the music we play at the restaurant.
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