Page 26 of Crescendo

“Life’s unpredictable. And nobody says it has to go anywhere. You’re trying to reset, change up your routine, your life, aren’t you? And don’t worry, she’s not my type. Too… good. I’m more into the kind of person where you think you can fix them but instead they ruin you.”

“I’m happy to see we’re all self-aware here today,” I said. “Ella and I won’t do anything, even if she is really damn pretty. Not to burst your bubble. Thanks for the food suggestion, by the way. This is good.”

“Better than your American food, I’m sure,” she said, and I rolled my eyes with a laugh.

“Two hundred fifty years and you’re still mad we threw your tea in the harbor. I live in LA, you know. You can find great food from any region you can imagine all in any one given city block. You and your dodgy friend will have to visit once this is over and I’ll show you noodles so good you won’t want to go back until you remember that we don’t have Tetley’s.”

She laughed. “It’s a deal. We’ll get the whole program to go visit the house of great composer Lydia Howard Fox and eat noodles.”

Sounded like a plan to me.

∞∞∞

Ella avoided me that evening after classes, and I tried not to take it to heart. I assumed she just didn’t want me trying to give her a piano lesson, and so, well—for once, I decided to back off and give someone space when they needed it. Adam invited me out for a catch-up dinner, and when I asked Bansi if he wanted to tag along, he practically cried in joy. Adam loved him, like I knew he would—guy just loved anyone who loved music, and Bansi’s enthusiasm shone through in everything he did, and we got to chat all about Crescendo, about Adam’s latest work, about my burnout and handing over the script to Natália.

It was a good evening, a nice way to keep my thoughts in order, and I found what I didn’t need on my way back to the apartment: Eliza Wright, standing at the bottom of the stairs up to my apartment entrance, arms folded, Hannah at her side.

“So, good first day of classes, then?” Eliza said in her fake-polite tone.

“Pretty good, yeah,” I said, hands in my pockets. “How about you? Making good progress towards putting me in my place?”

Eliza quirked a smile. “Making jokes about it won’t change the fact that you are burned out. You know too well it’s a little… easy, right now, to put you in your place, isn’t it?”

It shouldn’t have stung, but maybe it was just the comments on top of the fact that Ella was ignoring me that leftme a little prickly. “I feel like you should know what it’s like to have a crisis of identity,” I said lightly. “Won’t even use your real accent.”

Eliza wrinkled her nose. “Just because I make an effort to integrate better doesn’t mean I’m having acrisis of identity,dear. You wouldn’t know a great deal about prejudice against Northerners, would you? California is a long way away.”

Hannah found her moment to chip in. “You wouldn’t know, would you?”

I nodded towards Hannah. “And her? She’s still got her Northern accent. Are you saying you’re clever and she’s dumb, or are you saying she’s brave and you’re cowardly?”

Eliza frowned. “Don’t drag Hannah into this.”

“Don’t dragmeinto this,” I said, knowing full well I was giving her what she wanted right now, but I was tired and didn’t have it in me to deflect her commentary. She smiled wider.

“You know,” she said, “I used to look up to you a lot. Loved all your work, and every time I wrote a composition, I would ask myself what Lydia Howard Fox would do with it. But you know that, don’t you? Even you ask yourself what the Lydia Howard Fox of a few years ago would do with a piece. These days, do you have it in you to answer that?”

“Do you?” Hannah echoed, and I sighed.

“Do you two want something from me, or am I allowed to go inside?”

Eliza pursed her lips. “Just telling you not to mess around with Ella. She’s a good person who will do just fine for herself without you poking your nose into things.”

“Yeah, so stay out,” Hannah said.

I prickled despite myself, and I almost made a smart comment before Olivia’s voice cut through the air, coming striding down the street in the glow of the streetlamps, now gloriously bedecked in her casual ugly-shoes, swamp-green Vanswith wavy stripes. She always dressed so nicely above the ankle. Was it so much to ask for her to complete the ensemble?

“All right, you lot,” Olivia said, “try not to pick a fight in the street.”

Eliza batted her eyelashes at Olivia. “I was just saying good evening to my neighbor.”

“Yeah, and telling her a couple things,” Hannah said, and Eliza elbowed her lightly. Hannah flushed, and Olivia sighed.

“Even without your co-conspirator saying too much, I haveears.You’re all adults. Let’s head on inside and not send up our problems for all London to hear.”

“Sorry, Olivia,” Hannah said, and Eliza cleared her throat.

“We’re just heading back inside now. Have a good night, Olivia. Lydia… I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

---