Chapter Two
Gabby
Seven o’clock comes way too early on Monday morning, especially since I stayed up until after one talking to Jonathan on the phone. Nightly phone sex is apparently becoming our routine now that I’m back at school. The benefit of having my own bedroom. Lauren knows what’s going on. The morning after our video sex session, she kept teasing me about it. But either I was quieter last night or teasing me about it has gotten old already, because she doesn’t say anything this morning as we get ready for class.
I grab a granola bar before Lauren and I head out the door to make the trek across campus.
“How’s Jonny B?” she asks loudly as we walk.
Fortunately there aren’t many people out this early, and no one turns to look at us. “Can you not call him that? I know that’s his stage name, but I’d rather not draw extra attention to myself if that’s okay.”
She gives me a look that’s part sympathy and part mocking disbelief. “Oh, sweetie, that’s cute you think you won’t be getting attention. Everyone knows you’re dating him. If last year’s brouhaha weren’t enough, you’ve started showing up on the gossip sites again after spending the summer with him. And didn’t you say there’s an interview coming out in the September issue of Teen Girl where he talks about you?”
Sighing, I rip open my granola bar. “Fine. That doesn’t mean you need to start pumping me for gossip about him in the middle of campus loud enough to wake up the freshman dorm.”
With a laugh, she gives me an assessing look. “When are you seeing him again?”
“Two weeks from yesterday.”
“Can’t come soon enough,” she mutters. “You’re cranky when you’re not getting it on the regular. Obviously the phone sex isn’t cutting it.”
“Shut up.” I shove her shoulder, and she pretends to stumble a few steps, making me laugh.
“Whatever. I’m right, and you know it,” she shoots back, bumping me with her shoulder in return.
There aren’t as many people in our class this year. The attrition rate in the music department is high, only twenty people remaining of the thirty-five that started last year with us. I know several vocalists that complained about having to learn theory, and at least one other violinist said it took all the joy out of music for her. None of them are here this year.
“Good morning,” Dr. Paulsen greets us and starts passing out the syllabus. “Welcome to Advanced Theory. We’ll be continuing with what Dr. Williams taught you last year, focusing on analyzing more complicated works. This semester we’ll primarily look at the baroque, classical, and romantic periods. In the spring we’ll do twentieth century analysis, which is a different beast altogether. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors that you have to write a sonata this semester.” He pauses, looking at everyone in the class before continuing. I keep my eyes on him, my heart beating a little faster. Last year when I heard that sophomores have to write a sonata for their theory class, I was worried. But now I’m excited.
“Don’t worry, it’s not as hard as you think. I’ve never had a student who couldn’t complete it. You’ll also be doing smaller compositions throughout the class, like a minuet when we discuss baroque dance forms and a few other short pieces. I promise, you’ll do fine.”
Several people let out audible sighs of relief. Dr. Paulsen keeps talking, and I flip through the syllabus, taking note of the important dates of the major assignments.
After finishing his introductory lecture, he passes out a worksheet to see how much we remember from last year. It’s nothing too difficult—chord spellings, filling in weird key signatures, and some simple analysis. Helping Jonathan write music is more complicated than this, so I finish in no time and sit waiting in my seat until Dr. Paulsen collects our papers and hands out the homework for next class.
After he dismisses us, I put my papers in my backpack and stand to wait for Lauren when Dr. Paulsen catches my eye and motions me to the front of the room. I cast a glance at Lauren, who shrugs, and head to speak to Dr. Paulsen. I’ve never actually spoken to him before. I’ve seen him around the department, I know who he is, but this is the first time I’ve been in one of his classes.
“Gabby, how was your summer?”
I fiddle with the ends of my backpack straps, nervous to be called to talk to him privately at the end of the first class. I have no idea whether this is a good thing or a bad thing. “Good. Interesting.”
He adjusts his glasses and gives me a small smile. “Good. I, ah, followed your progress last year. Both in the department and out in the wider world, so to speak. Will we be seeing more of you in the media this year?”
I blink for a second, not expecting that question. “Uh, I don’t know. I’m not exactly in charge of what the media publishes.”
“Hmm. Yes, of course not. But are you still dating the pop star?” The words pop star are carefully pronounced, like he’s uncertain of the term.
“Jonathan? Yes.”
He nods. “Well, I trust that won’t interfere with your education. Will it?”
“No.”
“Good.” He smiles again. “Good. I’ll see you on Wednesday, then.”
I blink at him a few more times before turning slowly and heading for the door. What the what? I’m not sure I understand what just happened. Why that conversation happened.
Lauren falls in step beside me. “What was that about?”
Shaking my head, I look at her, then over my shoulder back toward the classroom before we head down the stairs. “I … don’t know. He asked if Jonathan and I were still dating and if I’d be in the media again this year.”
“You said yes, right? Because you already are. It’s not going away any time soon. If ever. Unless you break up with him. Even then, they might stalk you for a while afterward. You know, wanting to get the scoop on why you ended it, see if they can get any dirt on him.”
I shoot her a dirty look, and she just holds out her hands in a gesture of surrender. “What? You know I’m right.”
“Whatever.” I reach back and adjust my ponytail. “He asked if my dating Jonathan would interfere with my education. I said no, and he said good and he’d see me Wednesday. The whole thing was weird.”
Lauren makes a choking sound, like she’s trying to swallow a laugh, but not succeeding. “You don’t think he’ll interfere with your education. Oh, Gabby. You’re so cute.”
This time my glare is serious. “You too? What the hell? It’s the first day of classes and everyone’s already predicting that I’ll flunk out. Or quit. I guess that’s always an option. I’m so glad y’all have so much confidence in me.”
I shove through the doors into the late August sunshine, pulling in a deep breath, the air tinged with the scent of campfires. It’s wildfire season, and a haze of smoke is suffocating the city. How fitting. I’m suffocating here already too.
“Gabby.” Lauren’s voice follows me, sounding placating. “Come on. Don’t be like that.”
I turn so fast my ponytail whips around and gets in my face. “Like what? Like I don’t need you bagging on me along with everyone else? Like being back here is hard enough without everyone rooting for me to fail? What exactly am I being like?”
She sighs, an apology on her face. “I’m sorry, Gabs. I didn’t mean it like that. Of course I’m not rooting for you to fail. But I see how much you miss him already. I witnessed your relationship all last year. I know how you are without him. It’s … not pretty. I just wouldn’t be surprised if you decided to go be with him at some point.” I take a breath to contradict her, but she holds up a hand to forestall me. “Not because I want you gone. Or hope you fail. Or anything like that. I’m your friend. I care about you. I know you think you owe it to yourself to stay. And maybe you do. But if you change your mind about what the best thing for you to do is, I won’t blame you at all. I’m on your side, no matter what. Okay?”
“Okay.” With a few deep breaths I’m calmer, but still not happy about the way this morning is turning out. “I just feel ambushed. First Dr. Paulsen, and now you.”
“I’m not ambushing you. I’m just being realistic. If you think having your boyfriend traveling all over the country while you sit here at school won’t affect you, then fantastic. That’s awesome. I’ll back you a hundred percent. And if it does start to mess with you, I’ll ride your ass to make sure you do your homework, okay?”
I crack a smile. “Okay. Thanks, Lauren.”
“Anytime.” She smiles back. “Now, can we go see Clara? We need to schedule our lessons, and we can’t do that out here.”
“Oh, right.” In my surprise and frustration, I just made a beeline out of the building and forgot about scheduling a lesson. Maybe Lauren’s right. Maybe Jonathan being gone is affecting me already. But then again, if Dr. Paulsen hadn’t made it out like I was a distractible slacker who’s too concerned with media attention and her famous boyfriend to do her homework and come to class, I wouldn’t have been so angry.
Maybe it’s good he was the first one to say it, though. If he’s thinking it, I’m sure my other professors are too. I’ll just have to prove them all wrong, prove to them that I can do this—have a famous boyfriend, media attention, and be successful in my own life. And I’ll start with scheduling my private lesson with Clara. And then scheduling my piano lesson with Dr. Teale. Because I’m following Stefan’s advice from this summer and taking piano lessons so I’ll have an easier time with composition.
I still haven’t told Lauren about that. But I’ll probably have to soon, because she’ll wonder why the hell I’m taking lessons for another instrument for no apparent reason. That sounds like another fun conversation. I can’t wait.