Page 2 of Heartstring

His smile goes wider, and I notice his two front teeth are slightly longer than the rest. It makes him look kind of…I don’t know…funny? But nice funny. I like it.

“I’m Tyler Shaw,” he says, getting up. “What instrument do you play?”

“Guitar,” I blurt out. “And the piano, but definitely not as good as you.”

His face goes a little pink, and he looks down. “I’m not that good.”

“Dude, you’re definitely good. Where did you learn?”

“My foster dad taught me. He was a musician before he got me,” he says.

“Nice.”

We stare at each other for a while. I don’t know what else to say.

“So do you—” he asks at the same time I say, “Do you—” We both laugh, and I tell him to go first.

“Are you really joining the music club? Mrs. Roberts says this year we need more people because the drama club is going to do a musical.”

“Mrs. Roberts? The math teacher?”

He nods. “Yeah, she runs the music club too.”

“Okay. Yeah, I guess I can join.”

“Cool. Welcome then. Do you want to play together? I think there’s a guitar in the storage room,” he says.

“I was actually going home now to swim in the pool.” Since we moved to Port Haven, a small town at the foothills of the St. Gabriel Mountains just outside of LA, last spring, I’m determined to make the best of the good weather. No way I’d be swimming in the pool in September in Minnesota.

Just the thought gives me shivers.

Tyler nods but looks a little disappointed.

“Do you want to come?” I ask.

“I’m not sure.”

“You’re not sure you want to come?”

He smiles. “I’m not sure I should.”

I don’t know why, but suddenly, I need to convince him to come and swim with me. To have some fun.

“Come on. It’ll be fun. Besides, we have a grand piano. I bet you’d love to try it.”

His face lits up with the suggestion, and I’m happy I’ve won him over.

Score.

He grabs his backpack, stuffs some sheet music inside, and closes the lid on the piano.

“What’s your name, by the way?”

“Mik. Mik Nilsson.”

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TYLER