Because I still loved him as much as I always had.
Even if the boy I loved no longer loved me back.
Poppy
I flexed one hand, balancing my cello and bow with the other. Every now and again, my fingers grew numb and I had to wait to be able to play again. But as Michael Brown finished up his violin solo, I knew nothing would deter me from sitting center stage tonight. I would play my piece. And I’d savor every second of creating the music I loved so much.
Michael drew back his bow, and the audience burst into rapturous applause. He took a quick bow and exited on the other side of the stage.
The emcee grabbed the mic and announced my name. When the audience heard I was making my long-overdue return, their clapping grew louder, welcoming me back to the musical fold.
My heart raced in excitement at the whistles and support from parents and friends in the auditorium. As many of my peers from the orchestra came to the wings to pat me on the back and wish me words of encouragement, I had to chase back a lump in my throat.
Straightening my shoulders, I forced back the overwhelming onslaught of emotion. I tipped my head to the audience as I walked to take my seat. The spotlight above rained bright light on me.
I positioned myself perfectly, waiting until the clapping died down. As always, I glanced up and found my family sitting proudly in the third row. My mama and daddy were smiling widely. Both sisters gave me little waves.
Smiling back to show them I had seen them, I fought against the slight pain that fluttered in my chest as I spotted Mr. and Mrs. Kristiansen sitting alongside them, Alton waving at me too.
The only person missing was Rune.
I hadn’t performed in two years. And before that, he never missed one of my recitals. Even if he had to travel, he was at every single one, camera in hand, smiling his crooked half-smile when our eyes connected in the dark.
Clearing my throat, I closed my eyes as I placed my fingers on the neck of the cello and brought the bow to the string. I counted to four in my head and began the challenging Prelude from Bach’s Cello Suites. It was one of my favorite pieces to play—the intricacy of the melody, the fast pace of the bow work and the perfect tenor sound that echoed around the auditorium.
Each time I sat on this seat, I let the music flow through my veins. I let the melody pour from my heart, and I imagined sitting center stage at Carnegie Hall—my ultimate dream. I imagined the audience sitting before me: people who, like me, lived for the sound of a single perfect note, who thrilled to be carried away on a journey of sound. They felt the music in their hearts and its magic in their souls.
My body swayed to the rhythm, at the change in tempo and the final crescendo … but best of all, I forgot the numbness in my fingertips. For a brief moment, I forgot it all.
As the final note rang in the air, I lifted my bow from the vibrating string and, tipping my head back, slowly opened my eyes. I blinked against the bright light, a smile pulling on my lips in the solace of that silent moment when the note faded to nothing, before the applause of the audience began. That sweet, sweet moment when the adrenalin of the music made you feel so alive you felt you could conquer the world, that you had achieved serenity in its purest form.
And then, the applause began, breaking the spell. Lowering my head, I smiled as I rose from the seat, bowing my head in thanks.
As I gripped the neck of my cello, my eyes automatically searched for my family. Then my eyes traveled along the cheering patrons, and skirted along the back wall. At first, I didn’t realize what I was seeing. But as my heart slammed against my chest, my eyes were drawn to the very left of the far wall. I caught sight of long blond hair disappearing through the exit door … a tall, toned boy dressed all in black, vanishing from sight. But not before he glanced over his shoulder one last time, and I caught a glimpse of crystal-blue eyes…
My lips parted in shock, but before I could be sure what I was witnessing, the boy was gone, leaving behind a slowly closing door.
Was it…? Would he…?
No, I tried to convince myself, firmly. It couldn’t have been Rune. There was no way he would have come to this.
He hated me.
The memory of his cold blue stare in the school hallway confirmed my thoughts—I was simply wishing for things that couldn’t possibly be real.
With a final bow, I walked off the stage. I listened to the three remaining performers, then left through the backstage door, only to find my family and Rune’s family waiting for me.
My thirteen-year-old sister, Savannah, was the first to see me. “Pops!” she shouted and ran to me, wrapping her arms around my waist.
“Hey y’all,” I replied and squeezed her in return. The next second, Ida, now eleven, was hugging me too. I squeezed them back as tightly as I could. When they drew back, their eyes were shining. I playfully tilted my head. “Hey now, no crying, remember?”
Savannah laughed and Ida nodded her head. They released me. My mama and daddy both took their turn in telling me how proud they were.
Finally, I turned to Mr. and Mrs. Kristiansen. A sudden wave of nerves crashed through me. This would be the first time I had spoken to them since they had returned from Oslo.
“Poppy,” Mrs. Kristiansen said softly and held out her arms. I walked to the woman who had been a second mother to me and fell into her embrace. She held me close and kissed my head. “I’ve missed you, darling,” she said, her accent sounding stronger than I remembered.
My mind drifted to Rune. I wondered if his accent was stronger too.
As Mrs. Kristiansen let me go, I chased this idle thought away. Mr. Kristiansen hugged me next. When I pulled away, I saw little Alton gripping tightly onto Mr. Kristiansen’s legs. I bent down. Alton ducked his head down shyly, glimpsing up at me through the thick strands of his long hair.
“Hey, baby,” I said, tickling his side. “Do you remember me?”
Alton stared at me for the longest time, before shaking his head.
I laughed. “You lived right next door to me. Sometimes you would come to the park with me and Rune or, if it was a good day, to the blossom grove!”
I had spoken Rune’s name without conscious thought, but it reminded myself and everyone around me that Rune and I had once been inseparable. A silence descended on the group.
Feeling an ache in my chest, the kind I got when I fiercely missed my mamaw, I stood up and glanced away from the sympathetic stares. I was about to change the subject, when something pulled on the bottom of my dress.
When I looked down, Alton’s big blue eyes were fixed on my face. I ran my hand over his soft hair. “Hey Alton, you okay?”
Alton’s cheeks flushed, but he asked in his sweet voice, “You are friends with Rune?”
That same ache from a moment ago flared, and I cast a panicked look around our families. Rune’s mamma winced. I didn’t know what to say. Alton pulled on my dress again, waiting for an answer.
Sighing, I kneeled down and said sadly, “He was my very best friend in the whole wide world.” I pressed my hand over my chest. “And I loved him with my whole heart, every single inch of it.” Leaning in closer, I whispered through a thick throat, “And I always will.”
My stomach flipped. Those words were the very truth from my soul, and no matter how Rune and I were now, I would forever hold him in my heart.
“Rune …” Alton suddenly spoke up. “Rune … spoke to you?”
I laughed. “Of course, sweetie. He spoke to me all the time. All of his secrets. We talked about everything.”