"I've Never Cried" is one of the best Jemi stories I have ever written. There are so many twists and turns, love and hate, friendship and betrayal, all while still being a great read. This story has proper grammar and writing format, simply to make...
Nick and I agreed to go back down to the museum; mostly because Nick couldn't stay away from the place, and he didn't have to beg me to come this time. We pulled into the museum's parking lot, and started for the large green building. I remembered the car I had seen Demi leaving in the day before, and searched for it somewhere in the packed lot. The blue-ish black vehicle was nowhere in sight. My hopes were already starting to fall, but I entered the museum anyway. I immediately started for the Hall of Modern Arts and turned down the corner I had the day prior. Piano music wasn't drifting softly this time, and my adrenaline got lower and lower.
When I had finally gotten to the room Demi was last in, she wasn't there. Guitars lined the walls as they relaxed on their stands. Buckets of tambourines and drumsticks were placed here and there. The giant Grand Piano that Demi had played sat tall in the center with no one in the seat. I sighed. My hopes were completely shattered. Maybe I hadn't played my cards right; like Frankie had said. Maybe I did something wrong. Was it when I laughed?
I tried shrugging off the feeling and sat down at the piano's base. Slowly, Demi's song played in my head and I attempted to learn it from memory. The words were vague but the music was still there. I played the beginning through and smiled. It was a beautiful melody, and I chose to pretend that Demi was the one playing it; not me. I was lost in my own thoughts, my fingers played mindlessly.
Someone cleared their throat behind me.
My fingers slammed down on the piano, hitting the wrong keys and making an unforgiving sound. I turned around, raging.
"What?!" I shouted through my teeth, upset that someone disturbed my peace.
Instantly, I felt embarrassed and ashamed. Demi stood there in the threshold just as I had when I'd first seen her. "I'm sorry... I didn't realize..." I said. She laughed and I felt a little offended.
"I'm sorry if I scared you. I shouldn't have snuck up on you like that." The way she said that hit a spark somewhere in me. I laughed too, suddenly. This was the exact same scene that had played the day before, except swapped.
"That's my song." She said, giggling. I blushed a little and stood up.
"Yeah, I know. Um, I wasn't planning on taking it or anything. It's just... I heard you playing it yesterday and It was really beautiful-"
"You're rambling." She laughed and walked over toward the guitars. She selected an acoustic that had the outline of a figure eight. It was honey colored with a reddish-brown curve toward the center. She threw the strap over her shoulder and sat in one of the stools made specifically for that section.
"So, I didn't see your car." I mentioned stupidly. That 'random talking' thing was hitting me again. She looked at me quizzically.
"You were looking for me?"
"Um.. well, yeah. I kind of wanted to ask you something." I studied what she was wearing that day. She had on a long black tank top with intended holes all over the design. A white tank top was underneath so that no skin was showing. A black belt was placed neatly under her chest and complemented her tiny upper frame. Black shorts stopped at her upper knee and high heels finished the look. Her hair was in long, loose curls that stopped at her tan, thin shoulders. It was then that I realized she'd cut her hair.
"Ask away." I heard her say with a smile. My hand flew up to the back of my neck.
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"Okay well, I know it might sound weird since we just met and all but, do you... wanna go out sometime?"
"Like a date?" She asked her face falling. I felt my body go stiff at her expression.
"It doesn't have to be," I said and lifted my gaze to hers. "We can hang out, like friends. Just to get to know each other a little bit more." She thought about it for a moment, tapping her fingernails on the guitar in her lap.
"I guess that's okay. Sure. How about lunch tomorrow?" She asked with a grin, but it didn't glow like it previously did.
My excitement took over me. "Really? I mean . . . That's cool. Do you have a phone?" She put down the guitar that hadn't once been strummed and walked toward me. I gulped. Grabbing my hand, she pulled a pen from the cup on the piano's top; something I hadn't even known was there. After she'd scrawled her number across my palm, her phone began to buzz. She glanced down at it and then at me.
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