Compose_The Arts Series Read online

  “The girl is Victoria Smith, studied at Juilliard like Gupta. The guy is Gavin Henderson. He’s some composition prodigy from Cal Berkeley, studying with Mickelson. Already has a piece in some new Spielberg movie coming out. You study with Mickelson too, right?”

  “Yup, but we don’t meet as a group until Friday. How do you know all of this already?” I swore my eyes bugged out and the nervous flutters in my stomach intensified. I gulped. The banana I ate earlier threatened another appearance.

  “Louie, my young apprentice, have you forgotten already?” he chided. “I know everything.”

  Our chit chat came to a halt when Dr. Gupta started talking.

  From my corner of the room, I noticed the entire studio had finally arrived. Though I forgot to ask Dave about the transfer dude, I didn’t care because everyone else melted away except this Gavin person.

  Sure, man-candy might aptly describe him, but I knew anything where I might have to bare more skin than a one-piece bathing suit freaked me out. Not that he’d even noticed me when he came in.

  In my head, I kept hearing Dr. Liz’s unsolicited comments about me trying to date. But I knew myself. Not ready yet. The emotional wounds still rooted deep. But who said anything about enjoying the view?

  Dr. Gupta stood at the front of the class. “Welcome back everybody. I trust you all had a fun and productive summer, staying out of trouble, yes?” After immigrating to America ten years ago, he was mostly Americanized, mashing both cultures and languages together.

  Multiple heads bobbed up and down coupled with murmurings. “Yes, Dr. Gupta.”

  “Good, good.” Gupta paced back and forth in between the piano and us students. An average sized man with untamed graying curly black hair, sweat stains constantly appeared under his armpits. But I think it’s because he insisted on wearing button down long-sleeve shirts.

  Gupta carried on. “So first, we will do introductions before choosing a select lucky few to play for us today. For those of us who are new, you don’t have to worry. But if my returners will recall from last year, it is fair game to call on any one of you.”

  In my peripheral vision I noticed Dave pointing at me. I quickly followed his gesture by knocking his hand down. “Dave, I swear. You’re about to lose a testicle.”

  “Well, I see Louise and Dave are excited to start the introductions and perhaps play for us all? Ah, Louise? Why don’t we start with you? State your name, major, year, where you’re from, and what you want to do when you graduate.”

  “Thanks a lot, Davy.” I cleared my throat and prayed it wouldn’t wobble, as he snorted.

  “Hi, everyone.” I gave a little wave, making sure not to lift my arm too high. Nervous moisture camped out on the sides of my tank-top, and I hadn’t even worn long sleeves. Gad I was a sweaty disaster.

  “I’m Louise Tanner but everyone calls me Louie. I’m a junior composition major, from Massachusetts, um, and I’m not sure what I want to do after graduation. I guess write scores for TV or movies or something. Or maybe write songs for bands. And I’m done. Next?” I turned to Dave and let him take the spotlight.

  My mind drifted as the rest of the twelve students rattled off their stats. An elaborate inked flower-doodle decorated about a quarter of my notebook cover when a husky deep-toned voice sliced through the air.

  “I’m Gavin, first year grad student, composition major.” His eyes lifted toward mine, being the only other fellow comp major. He perused the remainder of the studio. “I’m originally from San Diego, did my undergrad at UC Berkeley, and I write movie scores.”

  Pretty much everyone seemed to be contemplating what Gavin would look like naked. Especially Dave.

  “Dude, I don’t think he swings both ways.” I double-checked to make sure Gupta didn’t hear me.

  “Doesn’t hurt to try.” Dave snatched the fan from me and reached for another mint.

  “What happened to the freshmen twins?”

  “Babies. Both immature little girls. Now Gavin? He’s a man.”

  And what the fuck, did Dave wink at Gavin? Yes, yes he did. “Okay, calm down there, Don Juan.”

  Gupta interrupted our exchange. “Now Gavin here already has a piece we will hear in an upcoming movie this winter. If we’re lucky, perhaps he will play some of it for us later.”

  Muted ooohs, and ahhhhs permeated the room like humming static from a radio station not quite in range. Gavin forced a smile and sat down, as he mumbled something to Victoria who sat beside him.

  I probed Dave yet again. “For real, how did you know he already had a piece in Spielberg’s movie?”

  Dave scoffed, putting the fan back into his backpack. “I already told you, I know everything. Nah, I overheard some faculty talking about him. Apparently, he won some national competition last year. His top two choices were us or another school out in L.A. The whole faculty is giddy because he opted to come here. Good for our program and other P.R. shit.”

  “And Louise.” Gupta clapped once, and the sound pierced the chatter.

  Ah hell no. Me first? “Uh, yes Dr. Gupta?” Maybe he wanted me to quiet down. But everyone else murmured after Gupta made the announcement about Gavin, not just me and Dave.

  “You’re up.”

  Double shit. I knew Nick had jinxed me big time this morning, the rat bastard.

  “I’m what?” Mortified, I swiped the trickle of sweat off my temple with the back of my hand. Thank the stars I’d applied some mandarin lotion earlier this morning. My pits still hopefully smelled like fresh squeezed oranges, barring deodorant failure.

  “You are up. You are the lucky person to play first.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Dave definitely earned castration.

  “Today we showcase your talents. What have you come prepared to play for us this fine morning?”

  A strangled whimper emerged. “Shit, shit, shit,” I muttered. “Well, I can play something I worked on this summer.”

  Dr. Gupta waved toward the Steinway at the front of the room like he was Vanna White showcasing the winning prize. “I’m sure it will be excellent.”

  “Go get ‘em killer,” Dave cheered.

  Inching toward the piano, my eyes fixated only on the ivory keys. I sat down at the bench and adjusted its height, so my foot reached the sustain pedal.

  I cursed the humidity and my awesome ability to sweat in a nervous situation, which extended the wet stains down the side of my ribcage. Good thing I wore a black tank.

  With my first inhale, I soaked up the combined scents of hard maple, pine, spruce, walnut, and mahogany wood constructed to perfection resulting in the Baby Grand under my fingertips.

  With my fingers placed on the keys, I turned toward Gupta and waited for his nod to proceed. My lids grew heavy until they closed, and my fingers recalled the melody. It was a slower piece in my favorite key, D major. A song written to help me heal.

  About halfway through, I transported back in time, terrorized by the boys in the neighborhood and at school. My fingers cramped.

  “Crap.” I cursed my fingers’ refusal to move. I offered Gupta an anxious look, but his eyes told me to pick up where I stopped.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled. Embarrassment warmed my skin as I scanned the room of musicians. Because they were performers, not me. I composed music.

  “So, let’s try again.” Pretending nonchalance, my eyes darted across the room until they skirted past Gavin, who wasn’t even looking at me. He wrote something on his notebook, while he massaged his temples like he had a migraine, face casted downward.

  Well screw him. Like I cared what he thought. Hell, I shouldn’t give a flying fuck about what any of these people thought.

  I closed my eyes again and allowed a slow breath of air cool my nostrils before starting where I left off. I managed to make it all t
he way through this time, completely lost in the music. Until Dave whooped and clapped.

  “Yeah, Louie. Nice job.” I loved Dave. He had an ability to transform any suck moment into a euphoric, I won a trip to Hawaii, moment.

  “Very nice, Louise. Stand up and take a bow.” Gupta grinned at me like a proud new dad.

  I bit the inside of my lip and the slight metallic taste brought me back to the present. Bowing quickly, I shuffled back to my seat, not daring a glance at Mr. Too Bored for His Cat. I couldn’t stand the censure and my mistake mid-song made it all too easy to criticize.

  “I sucked.”

  “Actually, the song was beautiful. I can tell it meant something significant to you. You don’t have to tell me now, but I’ll get it out of ya by the end of the year.” Dave’s wink magically lifted the trail of negative energy I no doubt exuded after my glaring mess-up.

  “Mr. Spence?” Dr. Gupta interrupted. “You’re next.”

  Before taking his place at the piano, Dave leaned down toward me. “It didn’t suck, and I think you have a new fan. It seems our boy wonder can’t take his eyes off you,” he whispered.

  “Hardly.” My voice caught, and I was too chicken to look, letting some of the loose strands from my braid fall down the side of my face like a veil.

  Chapter 2

  I seized my things as soon as class ended, and practically ran out of the room. Suffering embarrassment in a crowd held little appeal. Life would have been much better if I were able to teleport. Like, right after I botched up. Or better yet, find a time machine and pretend it never happened at all.

  Gupta made a senior named Carey play before time ran out. We were forced to wait another week before we would be blessed with Gavin’s piano brilliance. If he had Dr. Mickelson, I’d inevitably see him again later this week.

  I scoured the practice rooms for Nick and found him in one at the end of the hall. Not bothering to knock, I barged right in.

  He nodded but continued playing. The song might be my favorite classical piece, transcribed for guitar. The title on the sheet music read “Prelude” from Bach’s “Cello Suite Number One.” I allowed my eyes some rest as I let go of the recent humiliation. He finished and placed his Ovation guitar in its case.

  “How’d it go?” Nick asked.

  Though his accent waned since he moved at sixteen to Florida, I still loved listening to him talk. Whenever I was bummed, Nick did the best impression of “Mr. Darcy behind closed doors” to cheer me up, which included way too many vulgar images and swears I’m sure Ms. Austen would’ve disapproved when she wrote Pride and Prejudice. Nick always told me good ol’ Jane had a second version for her eyes only. Yeah right.

  Nick tossed his auburn hair. His army T-shirt revealing tattoo sleeved arms, along with his pierced tongue, became a reminder to half the population at Newsom why he epitomized badass and gorgeous. Good thing I never thought of him romantically. He and Matt were like brothers to me.

  I slumped down in the chair next to him, eyes still shut. “Not good enough. You totally hexed me, and Gupta made me play. And then I mucked up halfway through.”

  No way I’d share my fascination with man-candy Gavin, including the fact he seemed apathetic when I played. Although maybe I was being tough on him. Maybe he focused on journaling about my awesome song. Or maybe my barely B cup would grow to double D’s by tomorrow.

  I scrubbed my face and gave my eye sockets an extra massage.

  “I bet it wasn’t that bad.”

  “No, no. I sucked major balls.” My arms folded in front of my chest like a bullet-proof jacket.

  “It really sucked?” Nick had an uncanny way of bringing things back into perspective.

  Giving my neck a good stretch from side to side, I let out a sigh while my eyes took a brief refuge under the weight of my lids. My fingers probed the growing stress knots on both sides of my neck before I responded.

  “Okay, maybe I’m being a little melodramatic. I wished I hadn’t screwed up.”

  Nick stood up and grabbed his guitar and backpack. “Well come on, major screw-up. Let’s go have lunch where you can at least wallow in self-pity with some fantastic company.”

  Nick and I wove through the hallway and I kid you not, I literally grabbed Nick and pulled him in front of me the moment I noticed Gavin leaning against the side of the door to one of the practice rooms, deep in conversation with Victoria.

  “Lou, what the fuck?” Nick exhaled through the side of his mouth.

  “Shhh.” I held on to his shirt and scuffled to his right, hoping his chest would act as a shield. “Shut your pie hole and keep walking.”

  We passed them both, and I took a moment to peek back at Gavin, noticing the nod he gave Nick, followed by a “What’s up,” exchange between the two.

  Gavin furrowed his brows as Nick and I staggered down the hall out of the practice room area. My head snapped back like a rubber band and I picked up our pace. I didn’t slow down or let go of Nick until we exited the building.

  “What the hell?” Nick smoothed out his shirt as we headed back toward our house.

  “I don’t know.” I picked at the straps on my backpack, rolling them up to the clip and straightening them back down. “I guess I saw someone I didn’t want to see me.”

  Nick grunted. “The new guy Gavin? Talking to the blond chick?”

  D’oh. Keeping this from Nick for very long, especially since he and Dave were friends, and Dave was a big blabber mouth? Near impossible. And once Nick knew, Matty, Sierra, and Emmy would know. I might as well come clean and give him the whole ugly truth.

  And how the hell did he know Gavin already? Was I the only one in creation who didn’t know about this guy?

  “You fancy him, don’t you? Christmas on a cracker. Has our little Louie-love finally found herself interested in a guy who could be more than a friend? And on the first day back, no less.”

  “I hate you.” My nostrils flared in conjunction with my narrowed eyes.

  “No, no, you love me. Tell me I’m right, though. It’s Gavin, yeah?” Nick snorted before giving me an opportunity to respond. “Well, he’s pretty cute for a dude, and talented too. I have to say, I approve thus far.”

  “Dude. I don’t even know the guy. Yeah, obviously anyone with vision can see he’s cute. Super cute. He’s in my studio but we’ve never even talked. We literally did not exchange a single word during studio this morning.

  “And he basically wrote in his notebook the whole time I played. Evidently, he’s some musical deity and I’m a sad little peon in the world of composition. Any non-existent chance I had of him being interested in me died the moment I completely screwed up. Not that I want to date him or anything.”

  “Denial and over-embellishment doesn’t become you.” He propped an arm around my shoulder as we walked away from the building. The heavy air and sunshine melded into my skin.

  I raised my arms in front of me and quickly dropped them to my sides. “You don’t get it. I made a complete ass of myself. And he’s studying with Dr. Mickelson, which means I get to see him not once but twice a week. I can’t avoid him even if I wanted to and all I want to do right now is get freeze dried until they figure out how to bring us out of frozen hibernation.”

  “Wow, babe. He genuinely affected you. You sure you don’t want to date him?”

  I vehemently shook my head. “Please, no. I don’t want to date anyone. Tell me how you know him?”

  Nick cocked his head to the side. “Eh, I’ve seen him around the music scene this summer in Miami. He’s got a piece in Spielberg’s new movie.”

  I clutched hair on both sides of my head and pulled away from my scalp, destroying any semblance of braid I had left. “How is it you all know about his music, and I don’t? Did he tell you about the soundtrack when you saw him in Miami?
”

  “It’s not like it’s a secret. His name is being dropped by a lot of the faculty. Apparently, they offered him a full ride and he can graduate in three semesters if he wants.”

  Not bad.

  “I’m actually looking forward to collaborating with him on a few pieces for guitar.” Nick grinned wide. “I’ll have him over, and you can ogle him some more. Maybe force you to strike up a conversation with him.”

  “Not gonna happen. I’m sure he wants nothing to do with me after my freak-out today.” The back of my neck stretched as my head dipped lower than normal. Insecurity’s a bitch.

  As the house came into view, I heard Nick’s car alarm beep once to unlock the doors. My backpack landed with a thud by my feet as I plopped down onto the tan leather seats.

  Nick’s Jaguar still had remnants of new car smell, which I couldn’t determine if I liked or not. Though I had to admit, the black shine from the paint job made me feel much more sophisticated, if only for the moments I rode in it.

  “Well, here’s what I think.” The leather interior creaked as he nestled in the driver’s seat.

  “I think I don’t want to know what you think.” Instead, I opted to count the number of trees in our yard and got to five before the neighbor basset hound, Brutus, disrupted my tally.

  Nick ignored me and hit the engine on/off button to start the car. “I think it’s great you’re concerned about what Gavin thinks. It means you’re interested in someone. Whether you do anything about it is another detail I’m willing to explore with you. And I think you should get to know him. He’s a pretty decent guy.”

  “Well don’t go buying wedding invitations yet. It’s the first day of class and I still haven’t officially met him.” I pinched the bridge of my nose and thought back to how my two encounters with Gavin placed me in less than stellar light.