Read Online Love at First Note by Jenny Proctor - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jenny Proctor
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playing all coy, scolding Dad for teasing me, but I didn’t buy it. I could almost hear the wheels turning in her brain, fast-forwarding through my potential future with Elliott. I couldn’t exactly blame her. I mean, the fantasy had crashed and burned within ten seconds of meeting him, but I’d still done the same thing.
“Tell me about him,” Mom said. “What’s he like?”
“He’s . . .” I had no idea what to say. I couldn’t say nice because, well, he hadn’t been very nice, not that I’d done much to deserve his niceness. I could say hot; that was totally true, but it was hardly a description that would satisfy Mom. “He’s . . . very talented.”
She gave me a funny look but didn’t press further.
“So guess who’s in my chamber group now?”
Mom’s eyes sparked with interest. “Someone new?”
I nodded. “New to the group but not to me. He’s filling in while Bruno’s in Florida with his granddaughter.”
“He?” Mom’s eyes went wide. “Is it Grayson? Really?”
I nodded. “He’s getting married in November.”
“Oh! That’s so good! And such big news.” Ha. She didn’t even try to hide her relief.
Dad gave Mom’s foot a final squeeze, then got up and retrieved his plate before leaving the kitchen. “I’m going to do some reading. Make sure you come see me before you leave.”
I nodded.
“How are you feeling about the wedding ?” Mom asked.
“Fine, I guess. Grayson seems really happy.”
“Are you invited?”
I nodded again. “Yeah, but only just now. I’m sure he wouldn’t have if we weren’t in the same quartet.”
“Are you going to go?”
“Go where?” Ava reappeared in the kitchen with her empty plate.
“To Grayson Harper’s wedding,” Mom said. “Emma’s been invited.”
“Who’s Grayson Harper?”
“Seriously? You don’t remember Grayson? He was over here all the time.”
“Emma’s old boyfriend from high school,” Mom added.
“What, when I was like seven? No. I don’t remember him.”
“Ava, his picture is hanging in the music room. It’s been there forever.”
“The prom picture? Is he the black guy with the curly hair? The one in between you and Lilly? I always wondered who that was.”
“For real? You don’t remember him coming over? He would play hide-and-seek with you for hours. And you would always ask if you could play his cello.”
“Ohhhh! I do remember him! He was really nice.” Ava still hadn’t changed out of her church clothes. Her fitted green dress had once been mine, but she’d dressed it up with a skinny silver belt and a navy cardigan. She looked grown up—like it would suddenly feel funny to call her my baby sister. I finished the last of my taco, then stood up, leaning over the bar to put my plate in the sink.
“Come on,” I said to Ava. “I brought my violin. You ready to practice?”
A shadow passed across her face, and her mouth pulled into a pout, destroying any trace of the grown-up Ava I’d noticed just moments before. She heaved a sigh and turned toward the living room. “I guess.”
* * *
Two hours later, I could think of only one good thing about our infuriatingly awful practice session: I was so annoyed with Ava I forgot to be annoyed with Elliott.
Ava wasn’t just planning on applying to CIM and Juilliard. She was also thinking about Eastman, and she’d probably apply to BYU. Regardless of where she wound up, if she majored in music, her college application would require a music audition. A month into her junior year, she should have been zeroed in on the process, but her lack of focus was killing me. All she was zeroed in on was her phone. I watched as she snapped a selfie with her violin, then applied a series of filters and sent it off to the digital world, where she spent so much of her time. I rolled my eyes. Apparently Ava had plenty of time to tweet about playing the violin, just not any time to actually
practice
the violin. I’d hoped maybe we’d reached a
“Tell me about him,” Mom said. “What’s he like?”
“He’s . . .” I had no idea what to say. I couldn’t say nice because, well, he hadn’t been very nice, not that I’d done much to deserve his niceness. I could say hot; that was totally true, but it was hardly a description that would satisfy Mom. “He’s . . . very talented.”
She gave me a funny look but didn’t press further.
“So guess who’s in my chamber group now?”
Mom’s eyes sparked with interest. “Someone new?”
I nodded. “New to the group but not to me. He’s filling in while Bruno’s in Florida with his granddaughter.”
“He?” Mom’s eyes went wide. “Is it Grayson? Really?”
I nodded. “He’s getting married in November.”
“Oh! That’s so good! And such big news.” Ha. She didn’t even try to hide her relief.
Dad gave Mom’s foot a final squeeze, then got up and retrieved his plate before leaving the kitchen. “I’m going to do some reading. Make sure you come see me before you leave.”
I nodded.
“How are you feeling about the wedding ?” Mom asked.
“Fine, I guess. Grayson seems really happy.”
“Are you invited?”
I nodded again. “Yeah, but only just now. I’m sure he wouldn’t have if we weren’t in the same quartet.”
“Are you going to go?”
“Go where?” Ava reappeared in the kitchen with her empty plate.
“To Grayson Harper’s wedding,” Mom said. “Emma’s been invited.”
“Who’s Grayson Harper?”
“Seriously? You don’t remember Grayson? He was over here all the time.”
“Emma’s old boyfriend from high school,” Mom added.
“What, when I was like seven? No. I don’t remember him.”
“Ava, his picture is hanging in the music room. It’s been there forever.”
“The prom picture? Is he the black guy with the curly hair? The one in between you and Lilly? I always wondered who that was.”
“For real? You don’t remember him coming over? He would play hide-and-seek with you for hours. And you would always ask if you could play his cello.”
“Ohhhh! I do remember him! He was really nice.” Ava still hadn’t changed out of her church clothes. Her fitted green dress had once been mine, but she’d dressed it up with a skinny silver belt and a navy cardigan. She looked grown up—like it would suddenly feel funny to call her my baby sister. I finished the last of my taco, then stood up, leaning over the bar to put my plate in the sink.
“Come on,” I said to Ava. “I brought my violin. You ready to practice?”
A shadow passed across her face, and her mouth pulled into a pout, destroying any trace of the grown-up Ava I’d noticed just moments before. She heaved a sigh and turned toward the living room. “I guess.”
* * *
Two hours later, I could think of only one good thing about our infuriatingly awful practice session: I was so annoyed with Ava I forgot to be annoyed with Elliott.
Ava wasn’t just planning on applying to CIM and Juilliard. She was also thinking about Eastman, and she’d probably apply to BYU. Regardless of where she wound up, if she majored in music, her college application would require a music audition. A month into her junior year, she should have been zeroed in on the process, but her lack of focus was killing me. All she was zeroed in on was her phone. I watched as she snapped a selfie with her violin, then applied a series of filters and sent it off to the digital world, where she spent so much of her time. I rolled my eyes. Apparently Ava had plenty of time to tweet about playing the violin, just not any time to actually
practice
the violin. I’d hoped maybe we’d reached a
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