I stared at you in awe even after you'd finished playing your precious violin for my ninth birthday at my home. You were vibrant, shining as if you were made of light, but perhaps it's the thing about memories—they make it as if it was all light and no dark. I knew even then you were good, I just didn't completely comprehend how amazing you were, unlike my father and Luce did at the time. They saw you playing your music for me, and they recognized the raw talent as it was. Unpolished and in need of more practice, but talent all the same.
You looked at me after, then away, as if you couldn't stand it. Your face flushed pink against the pale shade of your skin. You called my name hesitantly. You asked, “What? Is it awful?”
“Huh? No! It's awesome!” I almost shouted.
You smiled that little smile then. The uncertainty on your face killed me. You'd learned to doubt sincerity at such a young age, but I didn't know it yet. “Yeah?”
“Dude! Come on!” I remember side-hugging you, grinning widely when I let go. “Is that Moonlight Sonata?”
“No. It's...it's Bach. I thought I'd play something happier. It's your birthday.”
“That's the best thing anyone ever gave to me. Ever.”
The toothy grin you gave me that time lit up your whole being like a bask of light among the clouds.
Later, as we lay down at my backyard, looking up at the stars, talking about future and wishes, I remember you murmured to me softly about your dream. You said, “Someday, I want to play violin on a stage.”
“What kind of stage?” I asked, because I didn't know much about this, not yet, but I wanted to because it was you, and you were my best friend even then.
“Any stage.” You must have thought I couldn't hear your wistful sigh, but I did, and it made something in me clench uncomfortably. “I just want them to listen.”
I propped myself up to stare down at you.
You looked a bit scared, but why were you scared, Sam? Why would you ever be scared of me? “What?”
“They will listen.” You started to nod as if automatically, but I touched your shoulders firmly. Somehow, I knew I needed to get this to you, to show you that I meant it. My gaze at you was straight and true. I told you, “I could see it. Watching you from my seat as you play your violin. Then I'll get to say, ‘That's my best friend!’ You'll be amazing.”
I wonder now why I never thought of this before, how your eyes seemed to glisten at my words that time. There was something odd about it, that you could be moved to tears over such a trivial thing.
But it wasn't trivial for you, was it? It was important. You saw me as important even before I knew how much we would be worth for each other.
YOU ARE READING
Wearing My Smile | ✔
Teen Fiction"I wondered if you'd ever thought that the name your parents had given you felt like sharp knife twisting through your heart in its prayer. I'd never asked you that before, now I'd never get to." Having been together since forever, Roo struggles in...
