Fairy Dust and Jazz

ten

Chapter ten

Eyes On Fire

‘And I’m

Not

Scared of your

Stolen power.’

Even if Nathaniel was approachable and easier to be with now, now since he’d stopped trying to flirt with me and simply spent time trying to let me know him, he still remained unattainable some days. Like every few weeks he’d disappear for days together to write a new set of songs for the band, and while I suspected the act didn’t happen without a little added aid, I knew I couldn’t do anything without proof.

And once I’d see him right after that, I never had the heart to be upset with him.

Whatever we did, wherever we went and whomever we went with, there came that exact point in time where Nathaniel forgot to untwine his hand from mine. Eventually, when he introduced me to a new stranger I didn’t care for, a someone I didn’t even bother looking at, something was different. Not that I could ever be sure, but I suppose hope was doing that to me.

“This is Sama,” he said, as usual, but I heard it. I heard the modulation, the change in pitch, the difference in his habitually indifferent manner. I heard it all and felt the sting against my eyes before she responded. “Sama, this Veronica.”

“Sama, nice to meet you,” she extended a hand to shake mine. The guys usually smiled politely and most girls just gave me the stink eye (yes, Sakshi said it more than enough for me to learn it up.) “You have very pretty hair. How do you get it to sit like that?”

A stray twirl climbed down the length of my face and rested at my mouth as I shrugged. “Shampoo.”

“And what do you use to condition it?”

“Uh,”

“Really, Rick,” his name for her felt inappropriate. “Is that important now?”

“No, no. Say,” her voice was beautiful, even if she looked Indian, I could tell she wasn’t from here. “Would you like to have lunch?”

“Uh,”

“Sure, why not. We can get the details of next week’s show, too.” He looked to me before kissing my cheek. “Is that alright with you?”

Did asking now matter? “Of course. Why not?”

They spoke on and on about her father’s early demise and of his heart failure. I barely ate but I knew this was irrational. He was just talking to her. It was all just coming into too many lines of blurry fatigue, and I was beginning to think my expression couldn’t be any more obvious.

“Father wanted to have you sing for us once more,” Rick finally acknowledged my presence. “Nathaniel’s father was a friend of mine.”

“Oh,” I offered up lamely.

“He simply adored Nathaniel’s voice. He had him perform every once in a while at the club.”

“Oh.”

“It’s a fairly remote location but you’ll love it,” she gestured to us then, like we were an entity. “You’ll both have to stay.”

“Uh,” No way! No way in hell! No. No. No.

“This Saturday. We’ll be there.”

My head snapped up of its own accord. “Nathan...”

“It’ll be over the weekend. It’ll be perfect.”