Page 122 of Crescendo

Eliza shot me a sidelong look, setting down her own drink. “Jumpy much?”

I watched her, my eyebrows raised. She looked about as good as I felt. Things with her and Hannah were still difficult and, from what I’d heard from Hannah, Eliza was avoiding heras much as possible. She’d been avoiding everyone else just as much. Coming to lessons, but isolating herself.

I was hardly in a position to judge.

I gestured between us, knowing she didn’t need a serious conversation right now. “Is this you trying to intimidate me out of winning?”

She smirked, but there was something genuinely grateful behind it. “Oh, no. I just thought you’d want a front-row seat to my victory.”

“How generous of you. Should I expect the same privilege on Friday when they actually announce the winner?”

“Absolutely.”

I laughed weakly, shaking my head as the room filled up around us, and Hannah and the others made their way back into the room. Hannah hid her heartbreak well, but I could see the looks she shot Eliza before allowing Clara, Dodge, and Bansi to slip into the row ahead of her, putting her as far away from Eliza as she could get.

How did everything get so complicated?

The instructors arrived and stepped onto the stage—all of them present for the… listening party?

“Welcome back,” Lorna said, grinning at everyone. “I know you’re all excited, so we’ll get straight into it. I’ll be making a short announcement about each piece, and then we’ll listen. Feel free to take notes and reach out to each other to discuss the pieces afterwards, but we won’t have time for a live discussion today.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. It was short lived.

Lorna clapped her hands together with glee. “So, she’s obviously left us early to get back to her work, but it would be remiss of us not to play Lydia’s piece. It’s not every day you get to study alongside one of the best composers in the world!”

I almost laughed—and cried. That was the magic of Lydia, wasn’t it? Even the ones here to teach us, the ones who were established musicians and composers themselves, were in awe of her. They were the instructors, but they’d been trying to learn from her, too. Melinda had been right that she’d have been one hell of an instructor.

One of the other lecturers tapped at his laptop and Lydia’s piece came over the speakers.

She’d claimed she was phoning it in. Only Lydia Howard Fox wrote something so beautiful whilephoning it in.People would give their right arms to compose like she did.

It wasn’t new to me, but it felt so different listening to it here, without her. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

God, I missed her.

Clara’s hand closed around mine, squeezing tightly, and that was when I realised I was crying. It would have been embarrassing if anyone else had noticed.

The piece finished and everyone clapped and cheered. Bansi looked like he’d never been prouder of anyone in his life. Though, of course, he looked the same way when Clara’s piece was played, when Dodge’s was, Rosie’s… everyone that he’d formed any kind of friendship with over the last two months. Bansi was a gift to the world and to music. Nobody loved louder than he did, and the world always needed more of that.

“Up next,” Lorna announced after an unusual, underwater-sounding piece, “is Hannah’s!”

Next to me, Eliza tensed. She’d known this was coming, just like I’d suspected Lydia’s was, but I knew that didn’t make it better or easier.

The piece kicked in and I couldn’t help but smile. It was so very Hannah. She’d finally let go of everything she thought she was supposed to be doing and she’d just written music she loved. And it was all the better for it.

It was also clearly about Eliza. There was a thrumming bass that sounded like a heart beating, one that I could feel resonating inside my chest. It sped, panicked, chased something—orsomeone—through the song, fading out when it couldn’t reach them.

It was devastating.

Eliza shook and I saw her finally turn her head to look at Hannah, her eyes shimmering. Hannah, face bright red, stared straight ahead.

Clara had reached for me. I could reach for Eliza.

I found her hand where it was dangling down the side of the chair and squeezed reassuringly. She sucked in a breath like it was painful.

And, of course, the next piece was hers. The two of them still together, side by side.

I kept hold of her hand and she squeezed hard as the music swelled around us. It was beautiful. A waltz. Two lovers dancing around each other, gliding over soft snow, a frozen lake, maybe. It was prettier than anything Eliza had been feeling lately, just the hint of regret on the strings under the main melody.

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