Crescendo

Chapter Seven

We sit at the table and talk all evening, and Wesley joins us, too. You know, when he's done cooking. I have never had a real conversation with Wesley, but it turns out he's a pretty smart guy. Apparently he got into Harvard, which is a huge deal. I think most people who graduate from Lake City High School end up going to North Idaho College or the University of Idaho. Very few, at least, make it to the Ivy Leagues. He's also going to be an attorney, just like his grandpa. That's, oddly enough, how Wesley and Conner connected. They were both talking about their lives at the beach (because I guess that's normal), and it came out that they were both inspired by their grandfathers. Conner's grandpa was a huge role model for him, and he taught him everything he knows about photography. When he died a few years ago, he received this huge inheritance from him. He's been traveling the country since then, taking photos of all the cool places he's been and things he's seen. His dream is to work for National Geographic and to win a Pulitzer Prize. He shows us some of his pictures, and I'm surprised by their beauty.

"All right, Counter Girl," he says, turning his attention to me. "What about you? You said you play the violin?"

I nod my head, shocked he remembers this small detail about me. I think I only mentioned it once. "Yeah. I want to play for the New York Philharmonic. That's my goal, anyway. It's a long shot, but I haven't given up yet."

Conner leans his head on his hand and stares right into my eyes. My breath hitches, and I wonder if he notices. I hope he doesn't. "New York, huh? Interesting. So, are you good?"

I shrug my shoulders in a casual way, even though I know I'm fantastic. When I'm playing how I usually do. "I guess I'm okay. I've won some competitions and stuff."

Wesley rolls his eyes. "Whatever, Lauren." He looks at Conner. "Yes, she's really good. She's just trying to be modest, but she got into Juilliard not too long ago. So don't let her fool you. She's probably the best violinist in this town, if not in this whole state. Shit, maybe even the country."

"Is this true, Counter Girl?" he asks me. His eyes are wide, and I can tell he's impressed.

"I don't know about all of that," I reply, feeling my cheeks grow warm. "But I have been accepted into Juilliard. And I've been playing since I was three, so I'm pretty comfortable with the violin." I don't know why I'm trying to talk myself down. I just want him to think I'm cool. And cool girls don't spend all their free time locked in their bedroom practicing the violin, right? Not that I know much about what cool girls do. I assume they spend most of their time at the mall trying on clothes or listening to pop music at parties like this one. Which is exactly what we're listening to right now.

He grins at me, and I feel butterflies fluttering around in my stomach. "You'll have to play for me sometime. I would love to hear you."

Oh my God, I've lost count of how many times I've blushed tonight. I think at this point I'm just a walking tomato. But I'm getting less nervous as time goes by. He's just so chill. So relaxed. And he's so attentive, not just to me, but to Wesley as well. He's more than just polite. He's kind. He's caring. I've only known him for... well, for one night, and I can already see these traits in him. We talk for hours about all kinds of stuff. My music, his photography, Wesley's interest in law and his love of horses. His parents own a few, and he goes riding out in the country every weekend. These are things I didn't know about him, but I'm glad I do now. He really is a great guy. Too bad his best friend is such a jerk.

Wait. His best friend. My best friend. Oh no. Where is she? I pull my phone out of my pocket and see it's well past midnight. I jump out of my seat, and both of the boys stop talking and look at me, concern etched on their faces. "Claire! I just remembered!" Conner's brow furrows, and then understanding dawns on his face. I throw my hand over my mouth as a second realization hits me. "Oh my God! I told my mom I'd be home early tonight!" I check my phone again, and... yup, there are the text messages and missed calls. From my mother. Shit! "Shit!" I yell. Conner and Wesley both startle. "I'll be right back. I have to make a phone call. I'm so sorry," I say quickly as I dash off to find a quiet spot to call my mom.