the violin & the clarinet

8

"Hey."

The phone ringing woke me up.

"I'm sorry, I know it's like six-thirty in the morning but I've been up all night."

She sounded so tired.

"I feel like you're asleep while I'm talking," she laughed, her words just as pretty as her violin.

"I'm awake," I mumbled unconvincingly.

"Hehe. Well, I was gonna ask, can ya come over after school?"

"Sure.. gotta ask my dad."

"Okay."

It got quiet and I let my eyes close again.

"Seeya in class, Xiangling."

I barely remember the phone call when my alarm goes off half an hour later. It feels fuzzy enough that it could be a dream, but I swear I remember her voice in my ear. She really did sound like she'd been up all night.

My dad said I could go to her house. "Text me if you need a ride home," he'd said.

It rains nearly all day, pounding on the roof of the school and turning the sky a soft gray color. All the classrooms feel so much colder than usual that it's hard to stay awake.

Our music for graduation in the summer is coming along nicely, according to the teacher. He tells us that since we're doing so well, we can have a break for the day. My clarinet lies in its case on the floor, and I get up from my seat to go find her for a change. She has her back to the wall, bent over a notebook, her pen moving over the paper in scribbles.

"Xinyan-"

She slams it shut, her face flushed red, drawing the attention of half the people in the room.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you- can I sit down?" I bite my lip, scared that I've messed up for good this time.

"Go ahead." She smiles like always, keeping the notebook shut and patting the carpet next to her. I know enough not to ask what's in it.

"How's your day going?" I'm awkward, I'm hopeless, I don't know what to say to her. I'm just another kid who plays an instrument halfway across the room from her.

"Could be better. I'm so fucking tired."

There's silence, and she stares at the cover of her notebook. It's covered in stickers of bands I've never heard of.

"How're you, Xiangling who plays clarinet?"

"I'm okay."

"And quieter than usual," she chuckles. "We still okay for after school?"

"Of course we are." I manage a smile back at her and sit down, crossing my legs and messing with the fibers of the carpet. "Are you gonna tell me what we're doing or is it a surprise?"

"A surprise." Her smile gets even bigger and I feel a rush of butterflies in my stomach, still wondering how I got even this far. With her.

She goes back to writing in her notebook, leaning over it so I can't see, and I keep picking at the carpet. Reciting equations in my head. I have a chemistry test tomorrow and I haven't studied nearly enough, but I don't want to get up and go find my study guide. I can work on it later, after I get home.

We sit there quietly until the bell rings, and she tugs on my arm before I can get out the door, whispering in my ear. "Hey, meet me at the door to the student parking lot, okay? That way we don't get all lost an' confused."

I give her a quick nod because I have to get all the way across the school for math, but she's still smiling. She's still smiling and it's the best thing I've seen in my whole entire life. And it stays with me all the way through surface area and volume of a sphere, all the way through the loud and crowded hallways until I get to the door where I meet her.