The Piano Players and Their Love Story

Chapter 01

"This is it!" I squealed, running for the door with the shiny, silver numbers '254' on the center.

    I excitedly shoved the key the administration office had given me into the keyhole and twisted the knob a little too aggressively.

    It was exactly as I pictured it. A small 15x15 bedroom with two beds leaned up against wall, two desks in front of them on the east wall, a small closet, a dresser beside each bed and a small room in the corner for what looked like a bathroom. It couldn't be anymore perfect.

    "Oh jeeze, doesn't give you much room to stretch your legs does it?" My mother grimaced as she walked in from behind me clutching her cup of coffee.

    "You hush! It's perfect!"

    "It's tiny." She said walking across the room and looking out and down the window. I was on the 3rd floor, which was perfect for me because the thought of being any higher kind of terrified me.

    My dad, carrying arms and hands full of luggage, stumbled into the room with a not very happy expression his face. He dropped my things onto the ground where he stood and glared at the both of us as a small drop of sweat slowly beaded down from his temple, making the sideburns of his auburn hair look wet.

    My mother pouted at him sympathetically before walking over to place her hand onto his cheek. To anyone else, my father is an intimidating man. He had the glare, height and broad shoulders to help him out but my mother and I haven't been scared of him since I was 2 years old. If you looked up the word teddy bear, a photo of my dad would come up.

    "Dang, baby." My mother moved her hand to my dad biceps and squeezed tightly, "Have you been working out?"

    That got a smile out of him. He moved his arm forward and flexed, even though there was no real muscle definition there. "You like that?" He asked her.

    "Mhmm." She replied playfully.I rolled my eyes as they flirted with each other.

My parents met when they were very young. They were only together for about 6 months before my mom got pregnant with me. They were absolutely stupid in love with each other so it didn't matter that they were only 18. As soon as they found out they were going to be a family they've practically been inseparable ever since.

"Hey!" I shouted, throwing my hands in between them. "This day is about me! You've had almost 19 years to be in love! Cut the cute stuff for when you leave!"

They both laughed but nodded, my mothers golden locks swishing back and forth in her high ponytail.

"This place is kind of small." My dad said looking around.

"That's what I said!" My mother shouted.

"Shush! Both of you! Or you're not allowed over anymore."

My mother rolled her eyes, "Oh but moommmm."

As we took a moment to take in what was going to be my new home the room grew strangely quiet. The light and happy energy was slowly replaced with the undeniable realization that I was no longer going to be living with them. After 18 years of seeing each other every single day, of staying up late to watch old TV shows, of gossiping and getting on each others nerves, it was all going to change. It was going to be completely different from this point forward.

I looked down at the ground and avoided as much eye contact as I could. It didn't matter that my parents had seen me cry on more than one occasion. It didn't matter that I wanted to be here more than I've ever wanted anything else in my life. I couldn't let them see me cry. Not about this.