Font Size:

An overbearing mother who meant well. Jealous peers who didn’t.

I wince. “So you decided the only place you could just love what you loved was alone.”

Her head dips, her lips grazing my hand. My hand that I stillcan’t bring myself to pull away.

“I don’t have to be in the spotlight. I can love from afar. Like an author, I’d hide behind my words, never admitting they were mine. Good or bad, I wouldn’t have to face a response.”

“The response has been overwhelmingly good for this play.”

She laughs, the sound hollow. “It’s ourteacher’splay. I only really trust his opinion and yours. He edited it when I accidentally sent it to him last year instead of an assignment. It was harsh but honest, and I’ll never forget the words he said to me.”

As if she forgets much. I say nothing.

“‘It’s not bad. It’s not yet great. I’ve made notes to help guide you from good to outstanding. Whether you want to put the effort into making changes determines whether this is a hobby or a passion. And that decision really isn’t any of my business.’” Calypso’s eyes roll, her head tilting away from my hand. “As if it was any of his business in the first place to edit a document I accidentally sent. But it was that effort and that honesty that made me trust him. Then it was the way he could have pressured me but didn’t. He could have claimed hours of work had gone into his edits. He didn’t mention a thing. He guided me, and let me have my own choice.”

“You found a person.”

Her brows bend, and she meets my eyes.

I slip my thumb over her cheek. “In this life, we’re all searching for our people. Our people are the ones who don’t seem like outsiders in our own unique worlds. I think, perhaps, Mr. D’plume was your first real person after years of existing alone inside your own universe.”

I’ll never forget the way her smile broadens her lips and crinkles the corners of her eyes. She understands. She understands, and she welcomes me without a thought. “Then you must be my second.”

I smirk, if only to pretend I can’t hear the erratic beat of my heart. “So I’ve been saying practically from the moment we met.”

She scoffs, shakes her head, and drops her hand off mine, forcing me to pull away. “That’s the kind of brilliant you are. You know everything.”

“Hardly.” I scoot myself beside her on the bench. She doesn’t move away. “I just know enough about a little bit of everything that I’m able to BS my way through.”

“That’s an incredible skill in itself.” Lifting her fingers to the keys, she rests her head against my shoulder. “A jack of all trades is a master of none, but oftentimes better than a master of one.”

My heart stammers.

She begins to play a song. It isn’t like the others. If I compared it to the play’s music, I may not have come to the conclusion she wrote it. This song marks a new era, something drastic that has changed. I can’t put my finger on it. I can hardly breathe while the heartfelt tune swirls.

In some selfish way, it feels like the song is about me.

I would kill to hear the words.

Calypso

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The secret is out. It didn’t come out in the way I expected.

There are no violent opinions hurled at me, no force behind the stunned awe. I should have known better than to assume Lex would respond in the way everyone else I know might have. He’s my perfect Kenneth, after all.

He knows better.

I don’t have to ask him not to tell. I know he won’t. There’s so much peace in his knowing, in my revealing the full truth.

I play his song.

It’s a secret confession.

I can’t help myself even if I can’t bring myself to put it into words.

After the tune drifts, Lex laughs.