Notes

2

Kyra sat on the lounge next to mine, the leather of our seats sticking to our skin because of the sudden heatwave that plagued our town. The air was heavy and full of unspoken words that were dying to come out, but we weren't letting them. A movie played in the background, giving our brains something to latch onto so we didn't have to focus on the underlying questions that so perilously needed to be answered. I didn't want to answer them, because then, I was acknowledging the fact that I hadn't made it. Every note I put into the original audition was now a lost cause. I didn't want her to think that I was one too.

"I just want to know Eli. I don't care if you did or didn't get in, but it is killing me waiting to hear your answer... Please tell me." She was begging me in desperation, her voice soft and gentle. My hand rested firmly on the top of my White Cane, which stuck to my side like glue. I rolled it in the palm of my hands, not glancing away from the T.V as I tried to ignore her.

The words just wouldn't come out, stuck to my gums in a furious attempt to hide their truth. I could feel her eyes burning into the side of my face like fire into rotted wood. Even though I couldn't see her I could imagine her eyes full of anticipation and excitement and anxiousness and sadness rolled into one big feeling of unstable emotion. I held my lips shut, too afraid to speak the words I knew she was waiting for.

"What if you wrote it to me in Braille? Then you and I would be the only ones able to understand it."

I heard the leather beneath her crumple and move as the shape of her body left the chair. Her footsteps echoed around me as they got softer the further she went away. But she was back within seconds. I could hear paper in her hand and a pen in the other, as she clicked the ink in and out of place while the paper made an unusual noise in the palm of her hand. She dropped them both on my lap. I didn't know whether to pick them up or rip the paper into pieces, not because I was angry at her, but because I was angry at myself.

The pen rolled in my hands, but steadied as I forced myself to make a fist. I drew dots into patterns to create words so she understood exactly what I meant. Top right, middle left; left and right top, bottom left; top right, left middle and bottom; top left, middle right, bottom left; left top middle bottom, middle right; left top middle bottom, middle right; left top and bottom, right top, middle and bottom. I reluctantly pushed the paper towards her, which she quickly snatched so I couldn't get it back.

I could tell her eyes were scanning over the paper, looking at each delicate dot to see the words I had spelt out. A wave of guilt and sadness washed over me to the point that I felt as if I was suffocating. I had let her down and that was worse than anything I have ever experienced.

It took me back once, when we were both 13, and I was in hospital because I had suddenly gotten sick; but that was the first time she had ever seen me truly ill. I felt so weak and frail and helpless that I never wanted her to see my like that again. And the worst part was I couldn't see if her face was disgusted in me or if she felt uncomfortable or if she wanted to leave and never come back. I would never know. It was the exact same feeling as I sat brokenly in the deserted room, not knowing her face but knowing that it was probably full of the emotions I wished never existed.

She grabbed me and pulled me from my chair, almost making me lose my balance. All she did was hug me, her head resting on my shoulder and her breath heard lightly in my ear. Kyra was significantly shorter than I was but at this point she felt stronger than I had ever been and she didn't let go. "It's okay." Her voice was a gentle whisper. "I'm not disappointed in you at all. I don't know what they were thinking but I'm not angry or mad or annoyed at you at all Eli. I promise."

The movie seemed to have stopped playing as we both embraced each other.

"Do you remember that time when we were around 15, and I brought you to one of my photo sessions?" I nodded. "And it was for a massive competition; the winner was going to be flown to Paris for an exclusive experience in the art of photography. Remember how we were both so excited, and we went to the beach while my dad drove us around and I took what you called breathtaking photos, even though you couldn't see them. And I didn't win. I thought for sure you were going to be disappointed in me, but you weren't. You told me everything was going to be okay, and you were proud of me no matter what. It's the same for you. I'm proud of you no matter what."