“What?” My pulse raced as I tried to piece her words together in an order that made sense. “Is that … how did you?” Words fell rapidly from my brain and landed on the floor around me.
She laughed sweetly. “You’re incredibly talented, Savannah. No one can deny that. I wouldn’t normally share this information with any student of mine, but you’re the best flutist at the conservatory right now. And, frankly, the best we’ve seen in years. This will provide you an opportunity you simply wouldn’t get anywhere else. I hope you’ll consider—”
“Yes!” I squealed before she could finish her sentence.
“Oh fantastic! Stop by my office sometime today and I’ll go over the details with you. I’m thrilled, Savannah, really. I think this will be a fabulous opportunity for you.”
Happy tears washed over the old ones. “Thank you, Madeline. See you this afternoon.”
I tossed my phone on the bed and stretched my arms over my head, grateful that my summer would be filled with nothing but music and sunshine.
Grateful for something to distract me from the love I felt for Gregory that I knew he wouldn’t return.
Gregory
As my theory class went through their final, I went through the music I’d given Robert to study this week. Somehow, despite my objections, I’d been drawn into guiding his curriculum, even if one of my former students was handling the lessons. For only two months of practice, he was coming along surprisingly well.
I heard Savannah sigh. The room was otherwise silent as the rest of the class was finishing their final exam. Some had already finished and left, and I knew Savannah wouldn’t be far behind. Over the last several weeks, she’d shown incredible command over the material in both her assignments and exams.
Something had changed.
It had changed in me, too, the moment I felt her mouth on mine. The moment I licked rainwater off of her lips before she opened her mouth to me.
Savannah seemed to still be in rocky territory with Nathan, and she’d stopped coloring outside the lines in her assignments. While she’d been the one to initiate our kiss, I did exactly nothing to stop it. I tangled my hands through her rain-soaked hair and pulled her closer. I’d dreamt of feeling the silkiness of her hair against my fingers for far too long to let the opportunity get away. The sound she made as I pressed my mouth harder into hers nearly brought me to my knees.
I’d thought of kissing her too many times during the semester. None of them included being right before finals in front of a piss-poor excuse for a Greek restaurant. In spite of my intentions to help foster her abilities and career, I’d done some damage. That much was clear given her emotional response to me and those around her. She likely thought I was a pig, a professor abusing his authority by preying on young and dumb students.
She was neither of those things, and I hoped to God she didn’t think those things of me.
Not that it mattered if she did.
Those few seconds were all we’d ever have.
Jesus. I closed my eyes for a moment and let myself feel her against me one more time. Her lips, cold and shivering but making me feel like I was on fire …
Stop.
I’d spent months discussing keeping lines between personal and professional. And now I’d harmed her ability to do just that. I’d watched her play at her flute ensemble concert, and I could pick her sound out of the group of six flutists in a second—her tone was breathtaking. But, her face looked empty and her vibrato was a little off. While that was only a small performance, if she continued to let her emotions spill into her music like that it could prove disastrous in the future.
Looking up, I found her smiling at Nathan for a moment before returning to her paper. Maybe things had smoothed out between them. I knew she cared about him. But the thought made my stomach clench all the same.
After a few minutes, Savannah stood, wrote one last thing at the bottom of her paper, and gracefully made her way to my desk.
“Here you go, Mr. Fitzgerald.” Her exam shook slightly in her hand as she placed it on my desk.
Keeping my eyes trained on the sheet music in front of me, I mumbled, “Thank you, Miss Marshall,” effectively excusing her from my desk.
“You’re welcome,” she responded. Her voice was soft and distant, causing me to look up. She was turning slowly away, her head lowered slightly. It made me want to reach out to her, inexplicably, and ask her what was wrong.
“Savannah,” I called after her as quietly as possible, before I could stop myself. A couple of students in the front row looked up for a second, before I raised my eyebrow and narrowed my eyes at them.
They quickly found more interesting things to look at. Such as their exams.
As she raised her head and turned back to my desk, she cleared her throat slightly. “Yes?” she replied, her brown eyes still dark and slightly glassed over.
Realizing I hadn’t thought through what I was going to say after calling her name, I straightened my shoulders and swallowed before saying, “Good luck.”
Her eyebrows came together for a second as she nodded and hastily left the classroom. Glancing down at her exam, I found a note written on the bottom right hand corner. Mr. Fitzgerald, she wrote, I know we disagreed about the material, and I’m sorry for all the trouble I gave you. But, I loved it—the music.
All the trouble? Knowing that Savannah would contest nearly every other word I said in class this semester made coming to class something to look forward to, despite the fact that I’d dreaded taking on the class in the first place. Regardless of the fact that I found her opinions ridiculous much of the time, it was her passion that I admired. While I maintained my stance that she needed to be appropriately trained in order to reach her maximum potential, I found myself hoping she didn’t lose her desire to break the rules.