Page 4 of Shattered Melodies

“Well, I play piano,” I admitted, bracing myself for judgment. My fingers tapped nervously against my leg as I waited for his reaction.

But Caleb’s eyes lit up like Christmas trees. “Dude, that’s awesome! I love the piano. It’s such a beautiful instrument.”

I blinked, surprised. “You… you think so?”

“Totally! I sing and play guitar, but I’ve always wanted to learn piano too. You’ll have to give me some pointers sometime.”

A genuine smile spread across my face, though I could feel a blush creeping up my neck. “Yeah, for sure. That would be cool.”

Caleb beamed at me. “Amazing. I can already tell we’re gonna be great friends.”

Friends. The word made my heart do a little flip in my chest. Could it really be that easy? Just like that, I had a friend? Part of me wanted to believe it, but another part - the part that had been burned too many times before - held back, cautious.

“How about you join me after school?” Caleb suggested. “The music room here is pretty great. We could mess around with some tunes.”

I felt a flutter of panic at the thought of more social interaction, more chances to embarrass myself. But underneath that was a tiny spark of hope, of longing for connection. I took a deep breath, pushing through the anxiety. “Yeah, I’d like that,” I agreed, my voice only shaking a little.

Caleb grinned, looking genuinely pleased. “Awesome! Meet me by the main entrance after last period, okay?”

I nodded, a mix of excitement and nervousness swirling in my stomach. As Caleb launched into a story about his band’s latest gig, I found myself relaxing bit by bit. I was still on edge, still hyper-aware of every word I said and every move I made. But for the first time since arriving in Oakwood, I felt like maybe, just maybe, things might turn out okay.

The rest of the day crawled by at an agonizing pace. My afternoon classes blurred together in a haze of new faces, unfamiliar routines, and information that barely registered. In History, I caught myself doodling piano keys in the margins of my notebook instead of taking notes on the Civil War. During Biology, I nearly knocked over a microscope, my hands shaky with a mix of leftover anxiety and growing anticipation.

Every time I glanced at the clock, it seemed like the hands had barely moved. I kept replaying my lunch conversation with Caleb in my head, analyzing every word I’d said. Had I come across as too eager? Too awkward? What if he’d just been nice out of pity for the new kid?

But then I’d remember his genuine smile, the way his eyes had lit up when I mentioned playing piano, and a tiny spark of hope would flare in my chest. Maybe this wasn’t just a pity invite. Maybe Caleb actually wanted to hang out with me.

As the final minutes of my last class ticked by, my leg bounced uncontrollably under my desk. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this nervous - or this excited - about hanging out with someone. It was like my body couldn’t decide if it wanted to run away or leap for joy.

When the final bell rang, I practically leapt out of my seat. I shoved my books haphazardly into my backpack, not caring that my papers were getting crumpled. My heart was racing as I weaved through the crowds of students, muttering “excuse me” and “sorry” as I bumped into people in my rush.

I paused at the main entrance, suddenly unsure. What if Caleb had changed his mind? What if this was all some elaborate prank? I scanned the sea of faces, my stomach doing nervous flips.

Then I spotted him, leaning against the wall with his guitar case slung over his shoulder. He was chatting with a group of friends, laughing at something one of them said. For a moment, my old insecurities flared up. He looked so at ease, so comfortable. Why would someone like that want to hang out with me?

But then Caleb glanced up and saw me. His face broke into a wide grin, and he waved me over. “Liam! There you are, man. Ready to make some music?”

I felt a smile tugging at my own lips as I walked over. “Yeah,” I said, surprised by how steady my voice sounded. “Let’s do it.”

We made our way to the music room, Caleb chatting easily about his day. As we approached the door, I felt a flutter of nerves. What if I embarrassed myself? What if I couldn’t play as well as he expected?

But when Caleb pushed open the door and I saw the beautiful grand piano in the corner, all my worries faded away. This, at least, was familiar territory. This was something I knew how to do.

Caleb was already setting up his guitar, grinning at me like I was the best thing he’d seen all day. “Alright, piano man,” he said, gesturing to the instrument. “Show me what you’ve got.”

“So, what should we play?” I asked, glancing over at Caleb.

He shrugged, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m down for whatever. You lead the way, piano man.”

I bit my lip, thinking. Then, a song popped into my head - one I’d learned ages ago, back when I first started playing. It was simple but beautiful, and something about it just felt right.

I took a deep breath and began to play, my fingers dancing over the keys. The melody filled the room, soft and sweet. After a few measures, Caleb joined in on his guitar, picking out a gentle harmony that matched with the song.

We played together like we’d been doing it for years, the music flowing between us as naturally as breathing. I lost myself in the song, in the feeling of creating something beautiful with someone else.

As the last notes faded away, I looked up to find Caleb staring at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read.

“Dude,” he said softly. “That was incredible. You’re really talented, you know that?”

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