Page 69 of Semblance

I nodded. “Thanks for the ride. Until next time?”

“Of course.”

#

After returning from Cambodia and experiencing the most wonderful weekend of my life, the transition back to campus life was painful.

The two-hour long lecture on Anton Dvorak and the impact of his music on the twentieth century was as stimulating as a bowel movement and left me feeling drained.

As I sat alone in the library, finishing up my Theories of Harmony assignment, I kept thinking about Shadow and how good it felt being with him. I remembered how sensual his touch was and how amazing our sex had been.

He filled me perfectly.

I couldn’t wait for him to return home from Cambodia so I could experience his body all over again. I wanted to taste his lips, to feel his muscles, and to pleasure him like he did for me. Being with Shadow made me feel sexy, which was something I haven’t felt for a long time.

He made me feel wanted.

#

I sat in front of the grand piano in my condo attemptingGaspard De La Nuitby Ravel for the fifth time that night. I was growing increasingly frustrated with each failed attempt.

Even though Shadow had relieved me of my obligation to record this song, I still had the burning desire to play it flawlessly. It was my own personal challenge. In order to take my performance to the next level, I needed to masterGaspard de La Nuit. Otherwise, I would always see myself as a B-list piano playing hack.

This time, I made it through to midway point before my fingers went off the rails and misfired, creating a few cringe worthy notes amidst the beauty of Ravel’s complex melody.

I cursed.

While debating whether I was done for the night or if I should make one last attempt, my cell phone rang.

My phone never rang—not since Justin decided not to speak to me anymore.

I answered it.

“Hey sweetie, what are you up to tonight?” It was Calisto.

“I’m just sitting here on my piano, driving myself crazy.”

“Oh?”

“You ever hear the songGaspard De La Nuitby Maurice Ravel?”

“Of course,” Calisto said. “It’s one of the most complex piano compositions ever created.”

“It sure is. I’m trying to master it.”

“Any luck?”

“I think I’d have an easier time fitting a tiger in my cootchie than playing Gaspard flawlessly.” I sighed.

Calisto laughed. “I love your quirky sense of humor Aria. It’s a welcome change from the dry conversations I typically have with my usual girlfriends—which is one of the reasons why I called.”

“To listen to me talk about shoving jungle cats into my vagina?”

“No,” Calisto said. “I wanted to see if you wanted to go out tonight and part-ay.”

“It’s a school night though,” I said, realizing after the fact how juvenile that must have sounded.

“Nonsense. Classes can wait,” Calisto said. “Tonight, you’re coming out with me and my girlfriend and we’re going to get shit-faced, reject greasy, desperate men that approach us, and get naughty with some swoon-worthy muscle muffin.”

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