Page 267 of His Virgin Romance Series

GABBY

As my hands fluttered across the keys, I didn’t think about the music I wanted to create… I felt it. It was instinct: pure uninhibited instinct rather than planned logical thinking and I wondered if that meant less. Did it still count as talent if you didn’t have to try?

I finished playing and then I wrote it down until I had a melody in front of me. It was still rough, there were a few notes that needed a little added finesse, but I was confident that with a few more workings it would be a playable song.

“Brava,” I heard a voice say behind me, and then there was light clapping.

I turned to see my Theory of Music professor standing there by the door in his usual tweed blazer. “Professor Parsons,” I said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

“I’m glad; I wouldn’t have wanted to interrupt your work.”

“I was just… playing around with a new song.”

“What was the inspiration behind it?” he asked, as he walked towards me.

“Summer,” I replied. “Or more specifically a goodbye to summer.”

“That’s a good time for it.”

“I agree.” I nodded.

“Well, I’m glad I caught you,” Professor Parsons told me. “I wanted to let you know about this new program we just got clearance for.”

“Oh?” I asked, with interest.

“It’s a trip we’re planning for Christmas. We want our best students to put on a bit of a concert for impoverished kids in Africa and India,” Professor Parsons explained. “We’re giving some of our top students a chance to volunteer.”

“Volunteer?” I asked, catching on quickly.

“Well, the university is not able to fund the whole trip,” Professor Parsons said. “Which is why it’s on a volunteer basis.”

In other words, I would need to pay my way. I felt my heart sink with the knowledge that despite my desire to participate, I would never be able to afford to go to Africa… even on a budget.

“That sounds amazing,” I said quickly, to mask my disappointment. “But I need to see if I can fit this trip into my timetable.”

“It would be great if you could join,” Professor Parsons told me. “This type of thing suits you just right. If you can join, I would really love to have you talk to the kids… explain music to them… possibly even answer their questions. I think it would be amazing… for them and for you.”

I smiled. It did sound wonderful, but I was realistic enough to know that it would never be a reality. I was in my senior year now, and once I had graduated, I would need to move out of student housing. Not only would I have rent to deal with, but I would also have student loans to pay off.

“I’ll definitely try to fit it in,” I promised, knowing all the while that it was a false promise.

I said goodbye to Professor Parsons, and then I left the music room and headed towards the dorm buildings. Student housing had proved to be my saving grace. It was extremely affordable for students, and it also meant that I was able to move out of my mother’s tiny apartment the moment I was accepted into Columbia University.

I loved my mother, and I had the utmost respect for her, but her lifestyle was not one that I fit into very well. It was funny sometimes how one person could have such disparate aspects to their personality. My mother, who was the most responsible, serious, tempered, and mature woman I knew when it came to raising her kids, was also the most gullible when it came to love.

She fell easily for the lines that men fed her and she wore her heart on her sleeve. This was all due to the fact that she was a hopeless romantic and she longed desperately for the kind of epic love that people read about in great novels. Only, that kind of love had evaded her for her entire life. And yet, she still kept trying which basically meant a revolving door of men, some of who appeared for a few nights and then disappeared suddenly, without warning and others that lived with her for a few months before some turbulent fight ended the relationship once and for all.

I had spent my teenage years seeing this happen time and time again and so by the time college came around, I was determined to move out. Seth was eight years older than I was and so he had left the nest a while ago. If Seth hadn’t always lived close by and made an attempt to see Mom and me all the time, I might have felt like an only child.

I had assumed that moving out of Mom’s place would solve all my problems. It would give me a clean slate and the opportunity to leave behind all the drama. Except that I wasn’t nearly that lucky. Every year without fail, I had managed to get a roommate who was either inconsiderate or plain crazy. My first roommate was basically a younger, wilder version of my mother. I would walk into our dorm to find a different man in her bed each night.

My second roommate was an ambitious cellist, and she had me up most nights with her incessant practicing. My third roommate was just plain hostile, and I had no idea why. I spent most of my junior year trying to avoid going back to my apartment. I had hoped that my string of bad luck would give me a break for my final year, but of course, I was sorely mistaken.

Enter Sandra… she was beautiful, outgoing, and charismatic. Which was why most nights our apartment was filled with people laughing, drinking, and doing drugs. We had been roommates for only a couple months now, but I was already feeling like she was the worst of the lot. Especially because dorm room parties were strictly prohibited and I was terrified that if Sandra went down, she would take me down with her.

I walked to my dorm room in a fog of contemplation. What would I do after I had graduated? I didn’t want to move back in with Mom. I couldn’t move in with Seth. He had just moved in with Cory and anyway he was a firefighter who was struggling to make ends meet himself. He didn’t need his little sister crashing on his couch. Plus, I had a feeling I would offend Mom if I chose to stay with Seth as opposed to her.

So that meant I needed to find an apartment of my own… and the only way I could afford that was to live with a roommate. Except my luck with roommates was so bad that it actually drove my blood pressure up thinking about a permanent living situation with a total stranger. As I approached my room, I heard the music and sighed in frustration. Of course Sandra was having yet another party… and it was driving me crazy.

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