Page 131 of The Alternate Captain
Phew.
And when Patrick slides into my visual path, I switch into performance mode. Pushing everything else out of my head. The auditorium quiets as the lights over the audience dim, and the stage is illuminated. I watch as Patrick brings his arms up, baton in his left hand as he mouths: one, two, three.
I don’t even need the music perched on the stand in front of me. I just close my eyes and play, moving my fingers overthe fingerboard in the sequence I’ve been practicing. Fluid movements over the strings, matching the flow with Darren’s saxophone rhythm.
My whole body moves and rocks steadily as I play, and by the time we’re on our third piece, I’m relaxed and immersed. I’m in my element.
The roar from the crowd pulls me back into the moment when we play the final note, and Darren is quick to stand up, grabbing my left hand just as I manage to move the cello into my right, holding it by the neck as we take a bow.
Patrick spins and bows to the crowd, too, and then he whisks us off the stage.
“One word. Bravo. That was fantastic. Well done.”
Darren turns and beams at me, pulling me into an awkward hug as I try to keep my cello safe. And just when I think he’s about to release me, his lips almost brush mine, and then there’s a wetness on the corner of my mouth that I did not consent to. I'm grateful he missed because I'm furious—and he'd probably end up with less teeth than Mike.
“What the hell are you doing?” I say, shoving him away. I set my cello down on the floor safely on its side before I turn to him again with a seething expression.
“Don’t pretend that it doesn’t make sense, Kelly. You and me. The true love story.”
“You’re deluded.”
Darren blinks at me.
“Is this about him?” he asks.
“No, but—”
“It is, isn’t it?”
“Darren, whatever it is you’re doing—stop.”
“Why else would he come here? I mean, if you’re back together, all you need to do is say—”
“We’re not.”
“What’s going on?” he asks. “Why are you beingso evasive?”
I push past him and grab my cello case, rolling it towards the spot where I left my instrument.
“I’m not.”
“Wait—does this have anything to do with your brother? Are you—”
“Forget it, Darren.”
I pack my cello up quicker than I ever have before and dip behind the screen in the corner to get changed back into casual clothes.
Darren is waiting for me when I exit, and he’s holding his phone out, a grin spread across his face.
“So, Kelly. If I were to call Mike right now and tell him how lovely it is that Johnny is filling in for him—what do you think he would say?”
I can almost feel my jaw dropping, but I check myself, straightening up and looking right at Darren.
“He’d probably say ‘Yeah, he’s a good friend.’”
“Okay, let’s find out, shall we?”
I don’t even know how Darren has my brother’s number, but whatever he just pressed on the screen has a ringing tone emitting from his handset. And that’s when I break. I reach over and snatch it from him.
