“Good luck, and please, please don’t start texting me when you can’t sleep tonight.”
“Thanks, I’ll need it. I promise you’ll be the first person I text when I’m all jacked up on energy drinks.” Flashing me a parting grin, she turns in the opposite direction to leave, but then something hits me—I haven’t even considered the guy who walked in on us yesterday. I call out her name, and she turns slowly. “Yes?”
“That guy you were with yesterday?”
She sucks in her cheeks. “Adam. We’re planning on giving “Make Our Garden Grow” a whack for Cameron. So far it’s not sounding so good.”
Because the song is from Candide, which is my favorite operetta, it takes a lot of effort for me to not ask her a million questions about how the piece is coming along. I know she’s in a hurry to leave. Plus, there’s the big question burning on my mind.
“He’s not going to say anything either, is he?”
Giving her blond head a quick jerk to each side, she scrunches her nose. “I don’t think he can manage more than a few words when he’s not singing, but I’ll give him a call and make sure he knows how badly I’ll crush his balls if he opens his mouth.” Waving goodbye to me, she turns on the heels of her boots. “I’ll text you after I get in touch with him.”
Of course, when Mac actually does follow through on her promise of sending me a late night text, she tells me that she hasn’t been able to get in touch with Adam. I spend the rest of the night tossing and turning, unable to sleep because I’m suddenly worried that he’s going to out my practice room romp to anyone who’ll listen. Even though Rhys assures me that Adam is a good guy—Professor Cameron is his advisor, too—it still doesn’t stop the gnawing fear deep in the pit of my stomach.
And after classes are over and I’ve practiced with Rhys only to go back to my room to find an email from Professor Cameron, I start to freak out.
From: [email protected]
Date: Thu, Nov 7, 2013 at 9:55AM
Subject: Meeting
Evelyn,
I hope this message finds you well. I would very much like to meet with you to discuss a few concerns. Will this afternoon at five PM be possible? Please let me know soonest.
Best Wishes,
H. Cameron
When I release a curse, Corinne glances up hesitantly from her homework. “Are you al—” She scrunches the tip of her nose. “Wow, you look like you’re about to puke.”
“I’m not,” I snap. Taking a deep breath to calm my racing thoughts, I shoot Corinne an apologetic look before checking the time on my phone. Damn. I only have eight minutes to make it across campus to the music department. “Meeting with my advisor. Be back soon.”
“I’m going to dinner with Ella, so I might not be here when you get back,” she calls after me as I sprint out the door. I run like a woman possessed to get to Cameron’s office on time, but she doesn’t even mention that I’m a couple minutes late as she closes the door behind us.
With a deep frown creasing her face, my advisor sits down across from me in her yellow and brown chair. She taps a pen against her lips for a few moments, which only makes my palms sweat even more. I keep my gaze off hers, focusing instead on the top of her graying pixie cut.
Finally, she drops the pen and splays her hands down flat on her desk. “I’m very concerned, Ms. Miller. I’ve already spoken to Rhys about those concerns, but I wanted to approach you as well.”
Oh. God.
“I can explain,” I blurt out, even though there really isn’t an explanation for Rhys and me besides the truth. Professor Cameron isn’t having it though, because she shakes her head.
“I honestly meant to pull you aside yesterday during our lesson, but you left before I had an opportunity.” She takes a breath, like she’s about to come down on me hard. I glare down at the corner of her desk, waiting for the shit storm to begin, but then she says, “As you are aware from your midterms in my class, you’re struggling with dictation. I just want to make certain that you have all the tools you need to finish this semester successfully.”
“What?” I ask breathlessly, and she shoots me an exasperated look.
“Dictation.” She emphasizes each syllable slowly. “Believe me, I’m also surprised given how much you struggled with sight singing at first. While you’ve improved significantly in that regard, you really need to focus on your ear training. I would like to see you bring your grade up during finals next month.”
I feel numb all over. She doesn’t know about Rhys and me. For the first time ever, I’m actually ecstatic to be getting a lecture about school. “Sure,” I say, pushing past the nervous lump in my throat. “Do you have any suggestions?”
After Professor Cameron gives me a few pointers that she’s convinced will help me, she dismisses me from her office. Despite the sudden drop in temperature, I practically dance back to my dorm because I’m so relieved she hadn’t called me out about messing around with Rhys. Just before I go into the building, my phone buzzes in my pocket, and I can’t keep the stupid grin from my face when I see a text from Rhys.
5:48 PM: No lesson tomorrow. Pack a bag.
Ducking into my dorm’s lobby, which is nice and warm, I take a seat outside the resident advisor station and type my response. I JUST left a meeting with Cameron about focusing harder on music and you’re cancelling practice?
5:50 PM: Yes. Yes I am.
I glide the tip of my tongue over my teeth, wondering if he was joking or being serious when he asked me to pack a bag. Where are we going? I message him. Getting up, I start to head to the elevator to go upstairs to my room, but then someone falls into step beside me. When I glance over to see Daniel, I roll my eyes. Judging by his Under Armour t-shirt and gym shorts—and the fact there’s sweat dripping from his short blond hair—he looks like he just finished a hard work out.
“I can’t say I’m not slightly happy to say this—but long time, no see,” I say as we pace toward the elevator. Since we’re the only two who go inside, we stand on opposite sides. I press the seventh floor button and lift my eyebrow at him.
“Ten,” he says and doesn’t take a breath before adding, “How’s Corinne.”
I punch the button for his floor and lean my back against the elevator wall. “I think she’s handling things pretty well.” Jabbing my tongue in my cheek, I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m sure she’d appreciate it if you came by and asked her yourself.”
Rubbing the back of his neck, he looks down at the space between us. “I tried, but she’s never there when I show up. She doesn’t even come to Baseball House anymore.”
Since I’m sure my roommate’s lack of partying lately has a little to do with her current relationship status, which I fully approve of, I shrug. “She doesn’t have to get drunk with you for you to tell her you’re sorry about her dad.” The elevator comes to a stop, and I walk off, turning around to face Daniel. My phone vibrates in my pocket again, but I ignore it for a moment to say, “I’ll let her know you asked about her.”
Once I’m inside my room, I check my final text from Rhys.
5:53 PM: Just pack the bag, Evelyn. I’ll pick you up at four tomorrow.
Chapter Twenty-Two
It’s a few minutes after seven PM when Rhys enters Roanoke and five minutes after that when he slows his silver Impreza to a crawl right in front of a red brick, ranch-style home. He backs into the driveway, parking his silver Impreza directly behind an older model Kia SUV.
I pull in a deep breath through my nose.
Maybe it’s just the fact that I’m a bad driver, but I never back into someone’s driveway unless they’re close family. Since he’s been mum about our destination since we left Richmond three hours ago, a sudden burst of nervousness takes over me, sending waves of panic through me. That old, selfish part of me is screaming in the back of my head how much she hopes he hasn’t brought me here to meet his family.