Page 43 of Broken Chords

“I do. I’m learning a lot, and finally getting names for things I’ve known but didn’t learn formally.” We spend the next several minutes chatting about school. Gabby sounds wistful, like she misses being here. Or at least parts of it. I know that she wouldn’t trade being with Jonathan for being here, though. Not in a million years.

She fills me in on the last few months of their tour—the crazy schedule, the fan reactions to their engagement, the craziness of using a mobile studio on the road to record the singles with them playing together. And her overwhelming happiness bleeds through in her stories, even the complaints about the frustrations of tour life.

“I’d love to keep talking, but we have plans tonight. I’ll let you know once I start getting RSVPs from anyone else from the music department.”

“Okay. Thanks. I have a feeling I’ll hear about it here, too, if anyone plans on going. Your name comes up in gossip every so often.”

She gives a choked laugh. “Uh, I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

Shrugging, I try to reassure her. “Well, I’m sure it comes up more places than here. You’re engaged to a popstar and have a certain amount of fame in your own right. People talk about you. Might as well get used to it.”

“Yeah.” She sighs. “I know you’re right. But it’s weirder when the people gossiping about you are people you know.”

“Uh, isn’t that pretty normal? Like for anyone? They gossip about everyone else around here. I’m sure you were gossiped about while you were here. Gossip is a universal constant.”

Another rueful chuckle greets that statement. “True. Good point. But I do really need to go.”

“Me too. Gotta get back to practicing.”

“Yes. The never-ending duty of every music major.”

“And performing artist. Your rehearsals aren’t exactly nonexistent these days.”

“Yeah. It’s different though.”

“I know.”

She sighs. The simple release of air communicating a host of ideas—happiness, longing, anticipation of what’s to come. “Alright. I’m sure we’ll talk soon. Good luck with practicing. Have a good night.”

“You too.”

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