Well, yay. Feedback, and a good bit of it. And new people too. And the return of old people. Not like
old people, but...you know...
Anyway,
Thanks!
keili, that was a short update?
You're gonna hate me for
this one then. Maybe I should wait till it's all done and then post one big, long, final one...
j/k I have to admit that I do try and keep the posts from getting too long. The longer they are, the more quickly they eat up through what I've got written, the longer it takes to update, especially in the Land of Inspirationlessness. That's not a word, btw.
sam: Yep. Maybe Thailand. Maybe good. Maybe D.C. Maybe also good. Maybe...
It
is a little angsty right now, but hopefully not overboard angsty. I'm shooting for good drama angsty. Let me know if I miss my mark. Since I do hope to get this published one day (thanks muchly for being able to imagine it,
tara22, and
you're fantastic for saying that
I'm fantastic), I'm pepared for long, arduous hours of revising and editing, and any suggestions you guys give me to make this a better read are more than welcome.
I think the feedback response may be longer than the update. Sorry.
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Title: Play It From the Heart
Author: Nixel (formerly Big Dummy)
Rating: PG-13 for some depictions of teenage girls in love and kissing and feeling stuff...
Feedback: It's addictive, and I like it. So yeah, go ahead.
Disclaimer: The rest of this story from the most recent update on are more recently written. Thus I have had far less time to go through and agonize and rewrite with these than I did with the first half of this story. I have to admit- it doesn't read as well to me. Eventually, I hope that it will, but for now, just bare with me.
Oh, and, please do not repost without my permission. That is all.
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She arrived home an hour later. To her surprise she found her mother in the dining room hunched over her laptop.
“Hi honey,” her mother greeted. “I got a headache and decided to leave early. Do a little work from home,” she explained in answer to her daughter’s questioning look.
Krista nodded in understanding, attempting to hide her disappointment as she made her way to the kitchen. She had wanted to lose herself in some mindless television for a bit before her parents made it home. She closed her eyes for a moment in frustration. Her mother was working; maybe that would mean she would get a reprieve from conversing with her. She poured herself a glass of orange juice and headed resolutely towards the living room, ignoring her mother.
She settled onto the couch and picked up the remote, turning to the cartoon channel. Silly, mindless entertainment was just the ticket. She watched for a bit and had just relaxed when her mother’s voice came, unexpectedly close to her.
“We got a letter about the Thanksgiving concert.”
Krista refused to take her eyes off the TV as she felt her mother’s weight sink into the couch next to her.
Why, oh why? “You must be pretty excited. First concert at the new school.” Krista shrugged.
“We should go shopping this week and get you something nice to wear to it.”
“We got fitted for our tuxes weeks ago.”
“You’re wearing tuxedos? Wow.” Krista said nothing, her eyes resolutely fixed on the TV. She hoped that if she said nothing, her mother would get the hint and go away. She knew she was being rude, but she was annoyed. Her mother’s presence was unwelcome. She had really wanted to be alone, and she was regretting not staying at the park longer.
“Are you excited about recording this weekend? Your first band demo.” Again Krista shrugged. Her mother sighed, and Krista felt her gaze on her face. She still refused to engage, and they sat that way in silence for a few minutes more before her mother got up from the couch and went back to her computer. Soon the sound of tapping keys came from the dining room. Krista sunk lower into the couch and watched as an animated skeleton played with two children.
***************************************
“Krista,” Mrs. Taylor called to her as she passed by her desk. Krista stopped in her tracks, causing a couple of exiting students to collide with her. She muttered quick apologies before inching closer to her teacher’s desk and removing herself from the flow of traffic. “Is everything okay with you?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” The sympathetic expression in Mrs. Taylor’s eyes made her immediately regret her brusque tone. She
had been a complete space case during class.
“Okay. If you need to talk about anything…” She waited, and when no response was forthcoming she sighed. “I actually wanted to ask you why didn’t you submit some work. I was surprised.”
The confusion on Krista’s face quickly faded to consternation as she comprehended to what Mrs. Taylor was referring. The student magazine. The deadline had been yesterday, and she had missed it, caught up as she was in the drama of her life.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Taylor. There’s so much going on…” She stopped. She was contradicting her earlier statement, giving away information that she’d had no intention of sharing.
Mrs. Taylor simply said, “I understand.” She paused, considering. “We’re going through submissions at this afternoon’s meeting. If you have something that you can give to me before then, I can make an exception to the deadline—this time.”
“Um, yeah…I have what I was working on right here. I finished it and everything, I just…forgot.” She placed her bag on the desk, unzipped it, and hurriedly rummaged through its contents to her notebook. She flipped through pages till she found the poem she had done with the express purpose of having it published, and ripped the page out with a grand flourish.
Mrs. Taylor received the work and asked, “Are you sure it’s ready?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Alright. Thank you. We’ll review it this afternoon.”
“Thank
you. And I’m sorry, again.” With a sheepish smile she ducked out of the classroom, mentally berating herself for being such a flake. She knew she was lucky that Mrs. Taylor had been so nice to her, considering the fact that she had reminded Krista about the magazine at least once a week since the initial announcement. Mrs. Taylor had seemed genuinely interested in Krista contributing to the creative effort, and what had she done? Gone and forgotten all about it.
This is ridiculous, she thought, angry at herself for her lapse. She had to snap out of her funk. It wasn’t the first time she had faced romantic disappointment (though certainly the closest she had ever come to even the mere possibility of fulfillment), and unfortunately she was sure that it would not be the last.
She reached her locker and leaned her head against it, the cool metal soothing against her skin. She had band practice that night; she had not seen Taryn since lunch yesterday. They seemed to have reached some sort of unspoken agreement under which they had scrapped their friendship. She did not attempt to seek the other girl out, just as she was no longer sought out. The thought of facing her that evening at practice caused a large lump to form in her throat, and her breathing quickened with nervousness. Everything had gone back to square one, with one giant, looming exception: she had blown any chance she had of being close to Taryn.
***************************
They ran through their entire set of songs twice, stopping after some to work out the remaining kinks. They were overall very tight, well-tuned and comfortable with their parts. Corrections were minimal, and it took no time at all to run through their repertoire. It was an amazing transition from the band that began two months ago to what they were now.
The final strains of their last song still echoing in the room, they began the task of narrowing down their selection for the demo. The engineering student had agreed to a three-song demo, which was standard, and it was time to choose those three songs from the 12 or so that they had. There were some numbers that they all agreed to disqualify right off the bat for one reason or another. The rest of the elimination process proved to be not so simple, and it was only after an hour of debate that they finally made their choices. They would do one that Sergio and Jay had masterminded, one of Taryn’s, and one of Krista’s.
That mountain tackled and defeated, they clarified their plans for the weekend. It was agreed that they would leave early Saturday morning and make the ½ an hour drive to Phoenix in the Hoffa’s car. It was unnecessary to bring more than Krista’s bass and Sergio’s guitar, as the music school’s studio had its own drumset and sound equipment.
With all matters of business taken care of, the band called it a night and went their separate ways. Taryn regarded Krista out of the corner of her eye as the other girl packed up her gear and prepared to leave. She wanted so much to say something to her, but it seemed that the other girl remained uncomfortable in her presence to some extent. They had spoken during the rehearsal—strictly on the topic of music and nothing more, nothing personal—and it had lacked the vibrancy and familiarity of their previous interactions. It was clear to her that their encounter had irrevocably changed things between them. Krista’s discomfort in her presence was obvious, to her if to no one else, and she was loath to push the issue. She did not want to scare her away any more than she already had. With a soft sigh of defeat she turned and headed up the basement stairs, regretting—for what felt like the hundredth time—her actions on the night of the party.
Taryn slipped past her mother and up to her room, where she sank into her bed and buried her head in a pillow. She was not accustomed to feeling so…lost. Part of her longed for that time when her love life was simple, if unfulfilling. Had that only been a few days ago? If she were honest, she would have to admit that her life had ceased its simplicity the moment she had met Krista. She had not recognized the pull that she felt towards the other girl for what it was, but it had been there all along.
The shrill ringing of the phone interrupted her thoughts. She ignored it.
Let someone else answer it. The ringing stopped, and she went back to contemplating her situation. How long would it take for them to get back any semblance of the friendship they’d once had? Would they ever regain it? She realized in that moment that she was not only sad about the unrequited feelings she had for Krista, which were confusing enough, but that she also lamented the lost friendship. They had been growing so close…
“Taryn! Phone!” her mother yelled up the stairs.
She considered telling her to take a message, but changed her mind and rose from the bed with a weary sigh and reached for the phone on her dresser. “Got it!” She waited for the tell-tale click that let her know her mother had hung up, and said, “Hello?”
“Hi, Gorgeous.”
She stifled a groan as she recognized the voice.
Of all the bad timing… “Hi David.”
“How ya’ doing?”
“Fine. What’s up?”
“Well, I was gonna ask you the same thing. I called you a couple of times, left messages.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I’ve been busy.”
“Well, are you too busy to hang out with me tomorrow?”
She was silent as she contemplated how best to give her answer. Given the revelations of the weekend, there was no way she could go on pretending to be interested in him—and that was what she had been doing.
With all of them, she admitted to herself.
“You still there?”
“Yeah. Um, listen. I’m really sorry I haven’t returned your calls. There’s been a lot going on with me and…I don’t even know how to say this the right way…I don’t think I can see you anymore.” It was his turn to be silent, and she grimaced, her words sounding lame even to her. “It wasn’t anything you did, it’s just…some stuff has come up, some stuff I have to figure out, and…I’m kinda pulling myself off the market.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. Alright. I…Well, I guess I should go.”
“Okay.”
He hung up the phone without saying good-bye, and she replaced the phone on its hook. She stared at her reflection in the mirror above her dresser, chewing on her lip thoughtfully. She wondered if she should call TJ and tell him everything; as her longest–running relationship to date, she supposed she owed him an explanation now that she had one herself.
Do I? Do I know what this means? She replayed the kiss in her mind, allowing the warm glow that came with it to suffuse her, giving in to the feelings the memory evoked.
I guess I kinda do. **********************************
“Our tuxes arrived today,” Jay said as he caught up to Krista en route to the music room.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. You’re lucky we got new ones. They were really starting to show their age last year. Oh good, they’re tuning the piano. I thought it sounded a little off last time,” Jay noted as they stepped into the music room. A young man was packing up his tools while he spoke with Mr. Brannigan by the upright piano. Jay settled himself behind his drum kit and began to unwrap his sticks while Krista went about the business of getting her bass ready. She listened with half an ear to the conversation between the two adults.
“That was nice and quick, Gerald,” Mr. Brannigan was saying.
“It wasn’t too badly out of tune.”
“How’s the middle register? I know that once you get done tuning the highs and lows sometimes the middle one gets out of whack again. Not that I’m questioning your work…”
The repairman laughed. “That’s alright. John told me you would be making sure I did it right. I tuned the middle register a little sharp to accommodate for that. Give it a try.”
Mr. Brannigan walked around to the piano bench and played first an arpeggio and then a chord in the middle of the keyboard, his head cocked to the side to listen. He nodded in approval. “Good job. That sounds much better.”
“Glad you approve. I’ll just head down to the office to deliver my bill.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem.” The two men shook hands, and the repairman took his leave with a quick wave at Jay and Krista. Mr. Brannigan sat at the bench and began to play softly. It only took Krista a moment to recognize “How High the Moon” by Ella Fitzgerald, and she smiled. She was not conscious of her fingers moving on her bass, now slung over her neck, until Mr. Brannigan looked at her surprised eyes and returned her smile. He indicated that she should turn up her bass with an upwards jerk of his head, and she complied. She played tentatively at first as her fingers struggled to remember the bass line. Behind her she heard Jay began to hit his cymbals with the brush. The impromptu trio played through the whole song.
They played the last notes with a flourish, and applause drew them out of their haze as they turned to acknowledge the other jazz band members that had gathered around to watch the show. Jay stood and bowed, while Krista ducked her head with a sheepish grin and turned away from their audience. Mr. Brannigan laughingly instructed everyone to take their places and that the free concert was over. “We’ve got a concert in less than two weeks, so let’s get to work,” he said as he made his way to the front of the room.
They worked through the material for the concert, and Krista was struck with a sense of déjà vu.
This rehearsal’s a little easier on my nerves, she noted grimly.
No Taryn. It was too bad for her that the thought brought a sense of sadness rather than the relief that would have been so much easier to handle.