Page 63 of All at Once

But now it doesn’t sound like “Invisible String” anymore.

It’s then when I recognize one of my favorite bridges. He’s playing another Taylor Swift favorite: “Daylight.”

Gasping at how the melody sounds even more ethereal like this, I confess, “Are you trying to make me cry?”

“Should I stop then?” Luca teases, while abruptly pausing the song.

“No!” I say, eyes wide.

He chuckles, and then picks up from where he left off, though not as loud. “I learned how to play this for the first time late atnight.” He smiles, perplexed. “It’s odd. After playing it during the daytime, it just didn’t sound the same.”

“I know what you mean. I think it’s the juxtaposition of playing a song that embodies a golden quality when it’s dark all around you. Kinda like the message of the song if you think about it,” I say, wondering if that was a bit too much to add.

His eyes sparkle. “Yeah, that’sexactlyit.”

My heart flutters again, seeing him pleased with my response. “When did you learn how to play the guitar?”

“I don’t. Not really,” he says a bit bashfully.

“Is this one of your sarcastic lines? Should I keep waiting for the punch line?”

Luca rolls his eyes with a half-smile. “No, I mean that I don’t know that many songs. I just listen to some sounds and try my best to figure out how to play them.”

“Of course you do,” I say knowingly.

He folds his arms over the top of the guitar as he stops strumming. “I want to see where you’re gonna go with this.”

I tilt my head at him. “You taught yourself how to play the guitar, you likeWuthering Heights, you’re proficient in Taylor Swift’s catalogue, you know how to surf, and you can paint like Picasso? It sounds like you really need to pick up on a hobby or two.”

He snorts. “I’ll be sure to look for something first thing tomorrow.” Then he shakes his head. “I appreciate the flattery, but you make it sound a lot more impressive than it is.”

“Itisimpressive,” I argue. “It took me hours just tobarelystand on a surfboard.”

“You admitted that it was your first time really trying it out.”

“Still, that’s just one example. I’ve never been one for hidden talents. And my hobbies seem silly compared to yours.”

His eyes soften. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“I love music,” I explain, “but I don’t haveanymusical talent, I like watching sports, but I’mterribleat them, and I adore reading stories about romance filled with all these adventures but when given the chance, I tend to steerfar awayfrom any of it actually happening.”

Luca waits to see if I’m done. “What aboutnow?”

“What about it?”

“Your connection to music is still evident when you’re talking about it, you kept getting back on that surfboard until you found a way to stand on it without losing balance, and as much as I initially criticized the merit behind your decision to come here, I couldn’t have been more wrong. Just that alone was pretty bold of you to do. I wouldn’t discredit that.”

Henoticedall of that?

It also doesn’t sound like he’s drank more than one beer the way I initially thought.

Making sure to quickly close my lips that seem to have parted during his response, I reply, “Luca, those were all really nice things you just said. But none of them really takes much talent. I’m just trying to do normal things that I never did out of fear and a multitude of other reasons.”

“And you think facing your fears doesn’t take talent?” he challenges.

“I don’t really know many people who’d refer tothatas talent,” I say.

“I know a good number of people that play instruments but aren’t really facing anything. Not everyone’s talents should look the same. For starters, I can tell how easy it is for you to talk to random people,” he adds, while gesturing toward everyone else.

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