Page 23 of Echoes of a Silent Song
Victor smiled again.“Me too.”Then he just kept smiling.And he didn’t look back at the menu.Nope.His eyes were fixed on me.Why?Did I have something on my face?Did I still have some lunch stuck in my teeth?I’d forgotten to check when I used the restroom earlier.
“What?”Another word popped out.
Victor’s gaze traveled over my face.“The way the sun’s hitting your face right now ...You have the most incredible blue eyes.And freckles.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I covered my nose with my hand.Freckles.I’d always hated them.When I was little, I used to scrub with a washcloth until my face turned red, thinking if I just washed enough, they’d come off.Alas and alack, they never did.But the way light danced in Victor’s eyes and a hint of pink shone in his cheeks as he watched me, maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.
“Oh, don’t cover them up, Iris,” he said.“I think they’re cute.”
I thinkyou’recute.I wanted to say that, because he really was, in a nerdy kind of way.But of course I couldn’t.The words stuck in my throat again.I could only stare at him and feel awkward.But ...notbadawkward, like I normally felt.No, this ...this was the most beautiful, most delicious kind of awkward.Uncomfortable ...and yet not.All at the same time.
“What kind of drink do you like?”Victor peered at the menu.“Coke?Root beer?Lemonade?”
“Coke.”Another word!
“The lady speaks!”Victor used a false British accent, one that drew a giggle from me.“And I like Coke with my fries too.”Then he ditched the accent, sounding once again like any other guy from central Illinois.“I’m beginning to think you and I have quite a lot in common, Iris Wallingford.”
“I think so too.”The voice that came from my lips was quiet, but the voice inside my head was loud.Buzzing almost.Buzzing with thoughtsand ideas and plans and dreams and music.So much music.The next line of the melody, in fact.
Oh.Melody.Hello again.
I jerked to my right, where my bag sat next to me.I yanked my notebook of staff paper out and found a pencil.Victor was saying something, but I could barely hear him over the choir in my head.
The melody poured from my head down my arm and into my fingers and into that little stick of yellow wood and gray graphite.Seemingly encouraged by the fact that I’d found a way to write it down, Melody sped up the pace of her ideas.If I squinted, I could almost see smoke coming from the pencil lead as I frantically scribbled.My arm muscles tightened, and my fingers turned white and almost cramped.Would I even be able to read this later?I didn’t know, but I still couldn’t stop until Melody did, and then she stopped, and oh thankgoodness.
My muscles relaxed.I set the pencil down.The music in my head faded, replaced by some Beatles tune coming from the jukebox.
“Whoa.”Victor stared at me, eyes wide through his glasses.“Did I just give you an idea?”
I was still breathing fast from my efforts to get the melody on paper.“I dunno.Maybe.”
Victor’s gaze fell to the table, adorably shy.“Can I see it?”
“Sure.”I slid the paper across to him and watched his face as he studied it.I’d never cared what anyone else thought of my music before ...but I’d also never shown it to anyone before.And now that I was showing it to Victor, I suddenly cared.
I cared desperately.
He looked at it for a long time—too long—then blew out a breath and turned his gaze to me.“Wow.Iris.This is ...this is brilliant.”
A smile sprang to my lips.“Thank you.”
“And you had this idea?Just now?”He leaned in closer, which brought another wave of that comfortably uncomfortable feeling.
I nodded.
He shook his head and pushed the paper across the table toward me.“You amaze me, Iris.I’ve never met anyone else who can do that.”
My gaze fell to the scribbled-out melody beneath my hand.“It’s not much.Not yet.Just a melody.”
“Melodies are the hardest part,” Victor said.“At least for me.”
“For me the hard part is knowing what to put underneath the melody,” I replied.“Like, I hear the harmonies, but I can’t quite figure out exactly what notes they are.It’s a lot of trial and error.”
Victor nodded in understanding.“Harmony can be tricky.I’m not great at it myself yet, but I do play some piano, and that helps.And what we’re learning in theory class, that’ll help too.”He craned his neck toward my composition again, and a long finger pointed toward the sixth measure.“But like, right here.What if the harmony did something like this?”He hummed a few notes.“Is that close to what you’re hearing, Iris?”
I tilted my head, comparing his version with the version racing through my mind.“Sorta.It’s more like this.”I hummed my own version.It wasn’t quite perfect yet, and my voice didn’t sound great, but hopefully he wouldn’t judge.
“Ohhhh.Okay, yeah, you’re thinking an augmented sixth chord there.”
