An Endless Serenade

Chapter Eighteen

On the first Wednesday of December, sometime in the evening, I walked into something amazing that I will always remember for the rest of my life.

Paul, playing piano, like no one was watching.

Instead of his usual calm, cool, and collected demeanor, he was quite literally rocking out to a piano version of Carry On My Wayward Son. Vocals included. He was hitting the piano keys a little harder than he should've been, but that was okay. It was worth it just witnessing the young adult side of him. The side I rarely got to see. So I couldn't help dawdling by the piano room door, grinning like a maniac to myself as I watched him.

He thought I was at work. Didn't know I was coming home early.

"Now your life's no longer empty," he belted out, harmonizing perfectly with the song, even though he wasn't listening to it. "Surely heaven waits for you!"

"Carry on my wayward son," I sang loudly, unable to help myself.

Immediately Paul's fingers slipped, playing a string of errant keys. Whipping around, he stared at me in horror, a fine blush spread across his cheeks. "Allie!"

"Hey, Paul!" I greeted him cheerfully.

"W-what are you doing back so early?" He ducked his head in embarrassment, staring determinedly at the floor.

I had to resist the urge to aw. How had I not noticed how cute Paul was before? Well, of course I'd noticed, but I hadn't really noticed. Not with Mr. Tucker around, at least. I was too caught up with the idea someone could like me back to actually realize whom else I could possibly fall for. It used to be most of the time I viewed Paul as my guardian, and sometimes found myself wishing he wasn't, that he was something more, but now it's the opposite. I hardly think of him as my guardian anymore. If I think that, I would feel weird for crushing on him. So I try to keep that thought at bay. "Got out early," I finally responded, stopping by the edge of the piano. "Has anyone told you you're a good singer?"

"I'm not," he muttered, as modest as always.

"You should sing for me some time."

Paul grimaced. "No way. The only way I'll sing in front of anyone, is in the car."

"Come on, we'll duet. You know the lyrics to Heart and Soul?" I asked, pushing him over so we could both fit on the piano bench.

"No... do you?"

I hesitated for a moment. "No..."

This caused him to laugh. "Then what's the point?"

"Point is to get you to sing again."

He shook his head. "No way, not happening. You weren't even supposed to see that."

"Why?"

"Isn't it weird? World famous pianist, Paul Russet, loves to bang on the piano keys... the tabloids would have a field day."

I blinked at him, slightly taken aback. Like usual, I forgot the fact Paul was famous. Of course, he hadn't had any recitals since the beginning of the school year, but that was because his entire focus was on teaching, since the school had requested him to substitute again. Well, they called it substitute, but honestly, I thought they paid the old piano teacher to go on break, so Paul would start working, and more students would attend because he was there. But still... "Oh, I remember that tabloid that had a whole story about you being gay."