CHAPTER 30 (2)

///////////////////////////////////////////// High By: The Speaks Emily: Will it ever be? I've tried so hard to find sweet serenity Timothy: Are you still afraid? Just close your eyes and dream, and fear will fade away. Both: Time won't flow, everyone knows When the pain fades away And dreams won't die, with tears in our eyes You've got to hold your head up high... Yeah yeah... Emily: It's taken some time And I've given up the will to change your state of mind Timothy: Try and understand It's not so hard to see that I am just a man Both: Time won't flow, everyone knows When the pain fades away And dreams won't die, with tears in our eyes You've got to hold your head up high... Yeah yeah... Hold your head up high... Hold your head up high... Emily/slow: Hold your head up high. mmm... ///////////////////////////////////////////// The song is magic. I don’t need to watch the faces in the audience, because in my heart, it’s not for them. It’s for us. Our performance is a blend of who we were, who we are, who we’re becoming—the imperfect synergy of Timothy and me and what we could create together. It's all life lessons in the songs, they come from the heart. They are who we are. They are who we live as people. Every lie, every struggle, every moment, makes sense in this instant. When we’re done, the stone-faced adjudicators tell us we’ll hear back as early as tonight. I trip off stage after Timothy, and as he sets down his guitar in front of him, I leap onto his back, throw my arms around his neck. “That was so good,” I pant in his ear, loving the feel of his warm, hard body under mine as he catches my legs. He chuckles. “You were great.” I drop off his back, and he turns to face me. “You were great,” I echo because I can’t find other words. Now, staring at him, the emotion slams into me. “What you did for me today,” I start, “what you risked…” “You’re worth it,” he murmurs. I’m thinking about that kiss Saturday night. From the way his eyes darken, so is he. “What are you doing now?” he asks. I groan. “I have a sociology assignment to finish for tomorrow, then Andie and I got free tickets to the symphony tonight.” “Keep your phone on.” I sigh out a breath of excitement. “Yeah.” He shoots me a look that’s pure wanting, and my entire body tingles as he strokes a thumb down my cheek before turning to lead the way out of the auditorium. It’s so good, and not nearly enough. “That better be a booty call,” Andie whispers over the symphony. I flip my phone to hide the light in the darkened theater. “I’m waiting for the showcase results,” I whisper back. I don’t want to be that asshole interrupting a public event, but I’m waiting for the biggest news of my life. All of the emotional turmoil I’ve felt this semester I put into five minutes with Timothy. Three choruses. Five verses. One bridge. The symphony orchestra is amazing, The Planets a work of art, but I’m fidgeting, picking at the hem of my black dress. When it’s done, we applaud, then I hit refresh again. “It’s here!” I say hoarsely as the email subject line imprints on my brain. The patrons in the next several seats look over. I scan for my name or his. A breath whooshes out when I finish. “Well?” Andie demands. Emotion wells up in my chest, and I shake my head. “We didn’t get in.” She sighs. “I’m sorry.” “No, I mean, we didn’t only get in. We’re closing the show. Me and Timothy.” I hold up the phone so she can see both our names. Her face splits into a grin. “Damn.” I scan our row and the one behind, recognizing a couple dozen Vanier students. Since we’re at intermission, I race out of the row and sprint to the subway. I debate texting Timothy, but this requires a face-to-face conversation. My fingers drum the pole until the doors open at his stop. I bound up the stairs, and the city lights blend with the throbbing in my gut. These aren’t the heels for sprinting, so I half jog, half limp down the street to Timothy’s. In the dark, there’re a few sketchy-looking people, but they can’t crush my high. I ignore them, ignore everything until I’m under the streetlight in front of his building. I hit the intercom, the buzzer ringing on the other end. No answer. I take off toward Vanier. I’m going to have serious blisters from these shoes, but within minutes, the familiar building looms over me, graceful and stately in the dark. The glass doors give under my hands, the light of the hallways beyond. My feet ache, and my lungs burn, and I don’t know what I’m running toward until a hoarse voice from down the hall has me grinding to a halt. “Emily.” He’s dressed in the same clothes as earlier, and he fills the hall despite the trickle of students moving past him. His face is full of emotions—maybe the same ones I’m feeling that create this impossible expansion in my chest. Timothy closes the distance between us. “You weren’t at home,” I say as he comes to a stop inches away. “I was looking for you.” His chest isn’t heaving like mine, but his eyes are wild. I must look like a mess, my hair sticking to my neck and face, my skin flushed. He doesn’t seem to notice as his mouth curves with the ghost of a smile. “Congrats.” I muster a cocky smile. “Was there ever any doubt?” He shakes his head, then before I can protest, he wraps his arms around my waist. He’s going to kiss me. Every nerve ending in my body tingles as I stare at his mouth. My hands land on his chest, and my eyes drift closed. A moment later, my eager lips brush his cheek as he tugs me into a hard hug. “Oh,” I blurt. “Um. Thanks.” I try too late for an awkward recovery. I almost think I’ve gotten away with it when his chest rumbles with laughter. “What did you think I was gonna do?” “This,” I lie, my fingers still trapped against his pecs. “Exactly this.” But I can’t bring myself to care about the embarrassment, because being enveloped in his strength feels like home. His hand slides around my neck, fingers tangling in my hair. I melt against him. God, it’s good to be in his arms. When he pulls back an inch, our lips are a breath apart. “I could kiss you now,” he murmurs, and my heart skips. “You’d kiss me back, too,” he continues in that beautiful voice. His mouth moves to brush my ear, lips skimming my skin and sending shivers through me. “You seem extraordinarily confident,” I manage. Students pass us, but I don’t know if they’re looking. I’m trapped in Timothy’s attention. His chest is heat and muscle beneath my hands, and my fingers flex on his pecs through his thin shirt. Timothy turns his face, lips grazing mine when he speaks. “A man who’s seen heaven is more dangerous than one who only believes. And I’ll never forget how it feels to have you need me.” My fingers dig into his muscled arms. I want him so much I ache. I cut a look past him to the students in the hallway, the ones who don’t know that everything in my life has been leading to this moment. Not only because of the showcase, but because of the man holding me. “You don’t have to remember it.” I take a deep breath, ready to dive off the cliff. “I need you now.”