Page 26 of A Wish for Us

Me: Give me fifteen

I tucked my phone in my pocket, blocking everything out, and took off for campus before Bonnie found me again. I forced the numbness to take control and push Bonnie from my brain. But only a few yards down the road I saw a poster for the concert being held in the park this weekend. South Carolina Philharmonic. My jaw clenched as I fought the need to go and see it.

And Bonnie would be there. That was reason enough not to go. I had to keep her at a distance. To work with her only on the project. She’d seen too much of me already. Knew too many of my secrets.

I just had to get back to my mixes. And my high walls that kept everyone out.

That was all I had to do.

* * *

“You didn’t sign up.”

I sat in Lewis’s office. A grand piano sat in the corner. A vintage violin with aged cracked wood and a fragile bridge was displayed on his wall. A guitar sat in a stand and cello lay on its side against the far wall.

I pulled my eyes away when a sense of home flowed through me. I looked at all the pictures of him conducting and realized how young he’d been when he started out. I wondered if he’d always loved music. If it was in every breath he took too.

“Cromwell,” he said, pulling my attention.

“I don’t need one-on-one sessions.”

A muscle twitched in his cheek. He leaned his arms on the table. “Cromwell, I know you’ve been focused on dance music for a while now. If that’s what you want to focus on, then fine. We’ll focus on that.”

“You know how to teach me things about EDM?”

Lewis narrowed his eyes on me. “No. But I know music. I can tell you what is working and what isn’t.” He paused, assessing me. “Or we can work on some of your old strengths.” He pointed across at the instruments. “Piano. Violin.” He huffed a laugh. “Anything really.”

“No thanks,” I muttered. I checked the time on the clock. It was nearly the weekend. As soon as this meeting was done, a bottle of Jack waited for me. This week had pulled me apart, and I was ready to let it go. Ready to embrace the numbness that came with being trashed.

“Do you still compose?”

I rested my hands behind my head. “Nope.”

Lewis’s head tipped to the side. “I don’t believe you.”

Every part of me tensed. “Believe what you want,” I snapped.

“What I mean is, I don’t think you’d be able to stop yourself from composing.” He tapped his head. “As much as we want it to, this never switches off.” He clasped his hands on the tabletop. “Even when I was at my most messed up, with the drink, the drugs, I still composed.” He smiled, but there was nothing happy or humorous about it. Instead it looked sad. It looked like I felt inside. “I came out of rehab with an entire symphony.” He lost his fakesmile. “Even if something makes you hate music, whatever it is can often be the catalyst for your next great work.”

“Deep,” I muttered. Lewis slumped in dejection. I was being a dick again. But everything this week had just been too much. I was tired and wrung dry.

I just needed a damn break.

It was funny. I didn’t know if it was being with Lewis, but in that moment I thought of my father and how me being this way toward someone would have broken his heart. He didn’t raise me this way.

“Manners cost nothing, son. Always be gracious with those who want to help.”

But he wasn’t here anymore. And I’d coped with that fact in the only way I knew how. I checked the clock again. “Can I go now?”

Lewis looked at the clock and sighed. As I got up, he said, “I’m not trying to counsel you, Cromwell. I just want you to realize the gift you’ve been given.”

I mock-saluted him. I couldn’t take one more person telling me about my talent. It was hard enough to push it aside without Lewis and Bonnie fanning the flames that I tried to keep extinguished.

“Your father saw it,” he said as my hand hit the doorknob.

I turned my head to face him, and, having no more fight, I felt the floodgates fall. “You mention him again, and I’ll stop coming. I’m this close to dropping out of this shithole anyway.”

Lewis held up his hands. “Fine. I’ll stop mentioning him.” He got off his chair and came toward me. He was pretty tall. He stopped a few feet away. “But as for the dropping out. You won’t.”

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