Page 26 of Safety Net
She was nowhere to be found, so I took a seat next to the flute and drummed my hands on my thighs.
“Hi,” I said to the flute, realizing I hadn’t offered a greeting. “How’s it going?”
This was as close to an instrument I’ve been since my abysmal middle school recital. Seeing one wasn’t as triggering as I expected. I rested my elbows on my knees and looked closer. There were so many buttons, each one shinier than the next. I tried to resist the childish urge to touch, but I felt like I was in a museum. And I’m a tactile person. Plus, the knowledge Celeste had held this instrument made me even more tempted to touch. There was a chance for adjacent touch here. A chance to place my fingers where hers had been and experience a bit of what she did.
The metal was cold. Each button curved down, making a perfect little space for finger pads. I dared to press down on one, and when it closed, the door opened. I snatched my hand away. The sudden movement disturbed the flute, and I scrambled to stabilize it once more.
“Hi.” Celeste’s greeting was low, and her gaze on my hand holding her flute. I didn’t know much about musician etiquette, but I did realize touching someone’s instrument without permission was considered taboo.
“Hi.” I snatched my hand away once more, now that the flute stopped rocking. “Sorry. I was just thinking about middle school, music, and forks in the road. What if I had killed it in band and learned how to read music instead of learning how to blockpucks? Then the flute was shining in the lights. I thought, Wow, I haven’t seen an instrument in person in years. That’s weird, right? Music is such a big part of most people’s lives, but we rarely know how to play instruments and never see them.”
Celeste remained silent as she came closer. She picked up her flute and inspected it. A wave of shame washed over me as I realized it probably cost her a fortune, and I’d gone and treated it like a toy.
“Have you held one before?” she asked.
I raised a brow. “No…”
“Would you like to?”
“Uh…”
She offered me a small smile then. “You just seemed curious. And I don’t mind.”
“In that case, yeah.” I nodded. “I’ve always wanted to hold one. Or a clarinet. Or…what’s the one that looks like a clarinet but has the weird long spout?”
Celeste laughed. “A bassoon?”
“Bassoon.” I nodded. “One summer, I begged my grandma to put me in band because I’d thought I’d fuck up a bassoon.”
Her laugh was brighter and lasted longer. I need to drown in it. To be so entwined that I didn’t know my end and its beginning.
“Really? People aren’t usually interested in wind instruments. Not when pianos, guitars, and drums are around,” she noted.
“Those are much too obvious if you ask me,” I teased.
Celeste moved a chair over so she’d have enough room to stand beside me. She offered me the flute. When I hesitated, she said, “Don’t worry, you won’t break it.”
“I’ve been known to break even the most unbreakable things.”
“Just don’t go whipping it around,” she joked. “And you’ll be fine.”
I accepted the instrument she placed in my hands. It was lighter than I thought it’d be.
“This is the mouthpiece.” Celeste pointed to the long part on top, which had an oval-shaped hole. “Don’t worry about that, it’s kind of gross cause I’ve had my mouth all over it.”
I chuckled. She doesn’t know how unbothered I am about that. My pulse quickened at just the thought of my mouth anywhere near where hers had been. I fell further on the pathetic scale when she adjusted my fingers.
“You space them out on the keys like this. Level it and stabilize it with your thumbs on the bottom.” Celeste instructed me, focusing on getting my positioning right. My body buzzed, overstimulated with every new sensation. Her fingers were soft and warm on mine. The star-shaped necklace she wore dangled between us, the warm metal brushing my skin as it swayed. She smelled like how a good daydream felt.
“I’m going to teach you a note. The fingering for this one…” Celeste started.
And there it was: I was hard. Damn it. Fingering? Not imagery I needed right now.
“Requires you to lift your pinkies and the pointer on your left hand,” she said.
“Okay.” I nodded, trying hard not to breathe heavily like some asshole.
“Hold it steady.”
