Black and Blue Ivy

The Music Room

The music room was located in the farthest region of the mansion's west wing. A grand piano of shiny ebony sat before a massive window with a view of a creek I hadn't known was there. I heard it said that certain rooms contain positive or negative energy and that if you were sensitive, you could pick up on it. If that were the case, the music room had a cheerful warmth the rest of the house lacked. A seating area with a well-worn, wine-colored velvet couch dominated the spacious room. Next to it was a stack of blue music books, a lot like the one I nearly killed myself trying to retrieve from the high library shelf.

Two guitars on stands, one acoustic, and one electric, angled toward the couch. Several amps were placed around the room among musical instruments of all kinds. There was enough on display for an entire orchestra, yet somehow I knew Bentley was the only one who spent any time here. The empty wine glasses with red sediments strewn about the room made me wonder if the room was ever cleaned. Despite its untidiness, the room gave off an aura of comfort I immediately sank into like a soft chair.

"Why do I feel you spend most of your time here?" I asked, approaching the window to drink in the view. The creek glittered in the fading sunlight. Bentley came up beside me. Again, I nearly swooned from his piney scent. I had to get the courage to ask him what the name of his cologne was. Maybe, if I ever have any money, I'll buy myself some so I can sprinkle it on my sheets at night.

"You guessed right," he said, parting the velvet drapes to let more of the fading late afternoon light fill the room's shadowy contours.

I looked at him and smiled. "It's like your personal space."

"Yes." He nodded. "And I let very few people in here, especially girls."

"Oh, why is that?"

He turned from the window and strolled to the piano. "Because they're distracting, that's why."

"I see. So, why am I allowed in your shrine?"

Chuckling, he sat on the piano bench and opened the lid. "I guess I don't think of you as a girl." He ran nimble fingers over the keys, testing the action I assumed.

My heart sank. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He picked out of few keys, lowering his ear to the keyboard to check the tuning. "Huh?"

"You heard me." I leaned on the piano and gazed at him. "I'm a girl."

"Yes, I noticed." Again the smirking smile drove me mad.

"So?"

I could see him visibly squirming as he struggled to come up with the proper response. Didn't he understand that I wasn't like other girls in that I could handle anything he had to say? Wasn't I tough enough to hear the truth that he would only ever look at me as a kid even though my sixteenth birthday loomed on the horizon?

"I guess, dear Ivy...." He gently fingered several bluesy chords. "I see you as a sister."

"Oh." I couldn't hide my disappointment.

"Is that so bad?"

I sighed. "I guess not. I never had a sibling."

"Well, you have one now. Not to mention all the other rugrats running around."

My cheeks warmed.

"Is there a problem with that?"

"No," I lied, not wanting to blurt out the truth, that my feelings for Bentley were confusing to say the least, but they were definitely not sisterly.

He stopped playing to gaze at me. "I wish I knew what was going on inside that head."

"No, you don't," I said, picking up some random sheet music. "Scoot over."