In Waves | ✔️

58 | in melodies

It isn't unusual for Nate to be at my house, but seeing him interact with Mom and Derek so much - that's pretty unusual. He's staying over because him and Rob have a joint history project due tomorrow and they've procrastinated like pros.

When Nate comes into the kitchen and asks Mom if he can help with anything while we're cooking dinner, she grabs his cheeks and pinches hard.

"Nate, you beautiful boy!" she exclaims to his pained smiling face. "I wish I had a son as helpful as you!"

"I heard that!" Rob bellows from the living room.

"You were meant to! Now come and help your friend!"

Mom releases Nate and hands him a stack of plates to set the table. I stifle a giggle as he passes me by the stove, stretching out his face to get the feeling back. He gets grilled on surfing by Derek at dinner, being thrown question after question about my lessons, how long he's been surfing for, and all the competitions he's competed in. 

Mom keeps spooning risotto onto his plate as he eats. Back and forth between the two boys, piling their plates as high as they can go. And the blinding beam she gets when Nate starts clearing the dirty dishes without being asked? I swear she'd adopt him on the spot if that was an option.

After dinner we all split up. Mom and Derek stay downstairs, Nate goes with Rob to his room to work on their presentation, and I go to mine to let my thoughts sink into my piano keys. I improvise a melody as usual, my day flashing in front of me. The thought of New York. Me and Matt in New York. His friends talking about us.

I've reached the low notes. Ominous and dark, and something sounds off. Something feels off. It's like a niggling in my chest, and nothing is making it go away. I return to the high notes. All the light keys. The feeling stays put.

A knock on my door, the sound of my handle. I stop playing, reaching for my phone to end the audio recording. It's almost ten.

Nate sticks his head through the crack of the door. "Can I come in?"

I hesitate, scanning over my room. It's not exactly picture perfect, but is anyones? I nod, watching him walk in holding a bowl of pretzels.

He sets them down on my dresser. "Snack run."

"Figured."

"For Rob, though. Your mom's risotto was killer." Nate looks around, picking up a ceramic dog ornament, taking in my bookshelf, my photos, my bed. He eyes the carnival Dalmatian propped against my pillow. "You know, I'm surprised."

"Why's that?"

"I've always thought that walking into someone's bedroom was like walking into their head. Getting a glimpse of it, anyway."

"And mine's not?"

"The things, sure. But you're super organized, and your room..." He nods to the sprawled class notes on my desk. "Not so much."

"Well, Nathan, I'm surprised you're surprised," I chirp. "Just because I'm organized, doesn't mean the thoughts in my head are."

"Right, true. Sometimes I forget about all those worry weeds on your brain." He smiles, stopping at the piano and tapping on the wood. "So this is where the musical genius comes out to play, huh?"

I give him a look, thinking back to that day in the record store. "Not a musical genius."

"If you say so. I didn't hear much through the door, but what I heard was pretty damn good."

"Don't expect a show."

"Wouldn't dream of it. Rob already told me you don't play in front of anyone." He rests his elbow on the piano. "But do you let other people play?"

My eyebrows nearly fly off my head. "You can play?"

"Oh, no way in hell. But I picked up a couple things in middle school music classes." He flaps his hands for me to scoot up on the bench, slides in next to me, and stretches out his fingers like he's about to perform a concerto. "All right. Prepare to be dazzled."

He starts playing the classic 'Heart and Soul' tune, clunking on the keys as he grimaces at his own performance.

"I'm a little rusty. Don't judge."

"I'd never."

He hums a grumble. "You gonna join me or what? This is a two-person one, DeMarco."

"It's called a duet." I laugh. "And I see what you're doing. Trying to get me to play."

"Fine, leave me hanging. All alone. Half a duet... never whole. So sad."

I sigh, eyeing his wavering 'woe is me' expression. He can't quite hold back a smile. I lift my fingers, slipping into the melody in the right gap. He lets his smile go, watching my hands as his pace changes. Speeding up, slowing down, trying to match my tempo. He hits wrong notes and he laughs when it sounds bad, but it doesn't sound too bad because of his laugh. When we finish, he holds my hands down on the keys. "You're on a roll. Might as well keep going."

"I told you I don't—"

"For me," he begs. "Something you know off by heart, so you know you won't mess up."

I leave the green forest of his irises, passing the pebbles of freckles down his nose. "Okay. Something I know off by heart."

His smile widens and he removes his hands from mine. "Is it one of yours, or a song you learned?"

"A song. One of my favorites," I say, cracking my knuckles. "To a Wild Rose. It's simple, but that's why I like it. You'll see. Worries don't exist when this one plays."

I draw in a deep breath, my fingers hovering over the keys before I start. The melody is slow, and I let myself get lost in the music. It's just me and the piano, nothing else matters. Not the heat of Nate's leg pressing against mine or the soft touch of our arms grazing as I play. Not the familiar charged current buzzing over my skin, threatening to electrify me right here and now.

I focus on the notes, but my mind keeps wandering back to him. The way he's so still, watching so closely. I don't have to think when I play this piece, but the effort in not thinking about Nate is making it one of the toughest performances of my life.

I finally hold the last notes, and as I look up at him I see that his smile has faded, replaced with a look of intent fixation that takes me back to the storeroom at school. When we hashed everything out. When I didn't know him well enough to tell if he was messing with me, but I do now. And he's not.

As quiet as our breath, Nate lifts his fingertips to my chin. He slowly traces them along my jawline, to my neck, dipping into my hair. A ripple of shivers cascade over my spine as he leans in. I don't want my eyes to leave him, but I can't stop them from fluttering closed. My heart drums its anticipation through my veins, pounding into the hollow of my throat, reverberating in my bones. 

His lips brush against mine and I'm hit with the scent of the ocean, salty and intoxicating. I'm about to drown.

And then as quickly as it started, Rob's voice pierces the moment and it's over. He's calling him from down the hallway, pushing us apart. Everything comes crashing down, but the tension stays. A palpable energy that lingers in the changed air between us.

Nate blinks, opening his mouth. No words. I don't have any either. I watch him slide off the bench, take his bowl of pretzels, and leave my room in silence.

˚ˑ━━━━━━━༄ؘ༄ؘ༄ؘˑ━━━━━━━ˑ˚