Page 40 of Crescendo

I shot Lydia a frustrated look as the sound of the door closing finally hit us but with the knowledge that we still weren’t alone.

“I thought you might need fuel for your study session,” Bansi said, holding up containers of food it would take them a few days to get through. “Composing is hungry work.”

“And you made too much food?” Lydia asked warmly.

“Maybe a little bit.”

We both laughed and headed for the kitchen with him. I might have hated the intrusion, but Bansi was always so sweet and genuine that it was impossible not to be grateful for him.

∞∞∞

Bansi seemed unable to do anything without it somehow turning into a party. He was just one of those people others gravitated to. Even when he was at someone else’s house, other people just showed up. Which was exactly how we’d ended up in the middle of a group composition session, sitting on the floor of our music room as Clara, Dodge, Rosie, her flatmate Mariana,and Bansi played instruments and talked through ideas they had for their compositions. Rosie still looked starstruck around Lydia, but it wasn’t like I didn’t understand.

By the time they all left, it was late—very late—and Lydia was shut in her room when I left the bathroom.

Part of me was disappointed. The other part was confused—surely she felt just as frustrated as I did?

I shut the door to my room and realised I could hear her on the phone. The music room was insulated, but the rest of the house was from a time before soundproofing as we knew it now. And Lydia wasn’t exactly the quietest person I’d ever known. She was exuberant and expressive—and probably used to living in a place with exceptional soundproofing. One where she didn’t even have flatmates to worry about in the first place.

“So, what am I supposed to do?” Lydia’s voice groaned through the wall. “It’s only been a week and it’storturealready.”

I knew I shouldn’t listen, knew I should take a shower or put on my headphones, like I usually did late at night, just to drown out the sound. Knew I should be doing a million things I was choosing not to.

“That’s not helpful, Melinda.” She paused. “Yes, well. I did say that. And that’s still true, isn’t it? I’m here for two months and then… what?”

My heart ached in my chest with the ferocity of its pounding. I knew what she was asking, knew what she was getting at. And she’d locked herself up in her room to talk to her friend about… wanting me. About me wanting her.

Lydia scoffed. “That would be all good and well if she didn’t want it too. The way she looks at me. The way she wanted it when I was teaching her the cello.”

I should have been embarrassed. Melinda wasn’t part of it, she wasn’t supposed to know. But I didn’t care. I wanted to hear Lydia talk about it. Wanted to hear how desperate Lydia’s voicewas when she did talk about it. I wanted her to tell the whole world how badly she wanted me, because wasn’t that amazing? Wasn’t it incredible that Ineededher on my body more than I’d ever needed anyone and it was there in her voice—the way she needed me too?

“It was fucking hot, Melinda,” Lydia said, point blank. “She’sfucking hot.”

My entire body flushed, my temperature spiking, my body thrumming.

“I don’t care. Do you have any idea how sexy it was touching her up under the table? How sexy it was having her touch me up under the table? I didn’t even know I was into that until her. But, fuck me, it’s hot.”

I was so close to just touching myself as I listened to her. But I didn’t want that. I wantedher.

“As if it’s that easy?” I heard her ask, and I had no idea what Melinda had said, but maybe it was easy?

We both knew the deal. We had two months. Less than ideal, but we wanted each other, needed each other. And, even if we tried to deny it, we weren’t going to make it the rest of those two months without something happening. We’d barely made it a whole week.

And weren’t we both here because we were trying to mix things up, do the things we wanted to?

“Ha, ha. As great as that would be, I don’t think charging into her room and just taking her is the play here, do you?” Lydia asked sarcastically.

I thought it was the play.

She thought I was hot.

She was holding back to be… polite?

I wasn’t.

Unsure of what had possessed me, I flung my bedroom door open and marched towards hers, not even knocking.

She sat up from where she’d been flopped on the bed. For one moment, her eyes were wide and confused, but it didn’t take long for her to see the look on my face and catch up.

---