Drumbeats into My Heart

14. Jordi on a Hot Day

I'm kind of ambivalent about this market location. The DMV is closed on weekends, so the market is able to occupy the parking lot. It offers very little shade, which means it gets quite hot when I perform. That said, the site is one of the bigger gatherings in the area. It's crowded, which is another situation I have mixed feelings about. Earnings tend to be better here because of the increased foot traffic, but it's also harder to find a spot to set up where I'm not in the way.

Dad has offered to get me an awning so I can create my own shade, but I'd refused, citing that I'm not actually part of the farmer's market, have no permit, and would probably be shooed away or fined for unauthorized participation if I attempt to create my own stall. Instead, I just keep my distance and wear my broad sun hat.

As I set up my assortment of drumming instruments, I wonder if Seth will show up today. I haven't seen him the last few days, so I'm a little worried. It's possible he somehow found out about my humiliating secret and no longer wants to see me anymore. I mean, why would he? If he's some super-smart honor student, he'd probably laugh at someone like me.

He's not like that, a quiet voice inside my head says.

Maybe he is, maybe he isn't. What do I really know about him? It's then I realize, with some embarrassment, how little I actually know about him. He goes to Lincoln, works as a tutor there during summer, and likes interesting music I've never heard before. Have we really spent all our time talking about music and... me?

My time with Dustin had been so different. He was confident and fun, maybe a little self-centered. We talked about what was going on in his life most of the time. Sporting events. Rock bands. Hot dogs. Don't even get me started on that guy's obsession with hot dogs.

What does Seth like? I should find out more about him.

If he ever shows again.

What if he's already gotten bored of me? I mean, I'm not that complex. I've got some drumming skills, sure, but once you get past that, what else is there? Maybe he's already determined that I'm a boring underachiever, not worth the effort. I wouldn't blame him.

I settle onto the cushion and ready my instruments—a wooden spoon and rubber spatula today. I like to switch things up sometimes.

A scoff bubbles out of my throat. I like to switch things up? Who am I trying to kid? The sudden and unwanted realization that I'm in a rut hits me. My days consist of drumming at the same venues, on the same days, week after week since summer started. Despite the fact that I really do enjoy it and keep busy at it, I seem to be standing still. I haven't hung out with or even talked to any of my friends.

Could it be that I look forward to Seth's visits because he breaks up my routine? I suppose that's possible, but I've been doing just fine without him until now.

Until now.

What's changed?

I stare at the red spatula in my hand, my attempt at switching things up. What, really, has changed besides this?

The spatula says nothing.

Despite the constant murmur of shoppers and shuffling feet, the silence is deafening. A yawning gap where answers are supposed to be.

I never have answers.

Enough. This line of thought never amounts to anything, so I banish it by hammering a baseline on a bucket. I throw my body into the rhythm and lose myself in it.

Boom taka boom taka boom.

Forty minutes later, I resign myself to the fact that Seth isn't coming today either. It's fine. Really. Totally fine. We made no promises or arrangements of any kind. No obligations. So having these expectations is silly. I need to stop.

And then I see him.

My silly expectations are accompanied by a silly smile, and all my doubts about him vanish. He's still on his bike, but he's propped on one leg, leaning on the handlebars and huffing for breath. When he finally sits up, he drags his helmet off and mops his face with his black t-shirt, revealing his lean stomach. Although I'm enjoying the view, he really should not have worn black under this blazing summer sun.

He spends a few more moments catching his breath. I watch as he plucks the damp shirt off his chest and fans himself with it, mumbling something I can't hear. It's kind of adorable.

He leans the bike onto its kickstand and takes a few more deep breaths before nodding to himself. Is he giving himself a pep talk? Just as he begins looking around, I jerk back to buckets in front of me. It just won't do to be caught watching, and I get the sense he wouldn't want me to see him all tired and out of breath anyway.

I force myself to rearrange the buckets that don't need rearranging. I tell my eyes not to wander back in Seth's direction, even though I really want to know what he's doing now. It feels like eons, but I eventually see the rubber tips of his black sneakers in my field of vision. Only then do I allow myself to look up.

I give him my best smile, pretending I didn't witness his not-so-dashing arrival.

He gives me a shy wave. His face still glows with sweat and a tired smile, but his breathing is back to normal. "That hill nearly killed me, and I may have broken my legs, but I made it."

That makes me laugh. "My conquering hero. I'm glad you're here."

His face brightens. "Yeah?"

"Of course." In that moment, under the warmth of his gaze, I don't care anymore that I suck at school. I stop worrying about what he might think if he finds out. It hasn't happened yet, so I can still enjoy this while I can. I'll just take it day by day and see what happens. Because Seth makes me feel good, and those feelings are just too wonderful to waste.

Worrying about the future can ruin your experience of right now. That's some wisdom you can vote on!