It put life in her eyes. Life that drowned out the sound of a pounding rainstorm in the middle of a crowded city.
Shaking my head as I placed Savannah’s exam on the bottom of the pile, my eyes scanned the class, where I found Nathan Connors staring at me with an indignant expression on his face. He shook his head, and I saw him clench his jaw slightly before he turned back to his exam.
That boy was a nuisance. It didn’t really surprise me that he and Savannah were friends, or whatever they were. She, however, could get much further than he ever would, given his volatile behavior at school. I wouldn’t put it past him to one day genuinely lose his temper in a professional environment.
An hour later, after the last of the students shuffled out of my classroom, I made my way back to my office. Exhausted at the prospect of having to sort through the exams and tally final grades, I stopped when I saw Madeline White’s office door propped open.
“Come in,” she chirped when I knocked.
Madeline was my age, though I admit she looked much younger than I did. Her olive skin and long black hair made her look like a student and garnered her much male student attention on campus, from what I heard through droll pre-classroom discussions. She took it all in stride, though. Which I suppose was easier to do given she only had two male students to instruct.
“Sorry to interrupt, Madeline, but I just wanted to stop in and see how you are feeling?”
She waved her hand toward the chair in front of her desk. “Nonsense, Gregory, you’re never interrupting. Sit.” I did, as she continued. “Thank you again for taking on that class for me. I hope they didn’t give you too much trouble? You know how upperclassmen can be.”
“I do,” I sighed. “They were just fine, Madeline. Some more … difficult than others.”
Madeline sat and crossed her arms. “How did Savannah Marshall do in the class?”
My pulse started to race at the mention of her name, and my mind reeled back to the conversation I’d had with James a few weeks ago about the rumors floating around about us. Certainly Madeline hadn’t caught wind of them. She’d been off campus recovering from her surgery since December. If she’d heard the rumors, things were worse than I thought.
“Fine,” I tried for a dismissive tone, examining Madeline’s face. “She’s definitely a student of yours, that’s for sure. I’ve heard her play some throughout the semester and she’s wildly talented. Her discipline in coursework, though …” I set my jaw and looked at Madeline, who seemed amused.
“Oh, come on, Gregory,” she rolled her eyes, “just because a student doesn’t agree with your ways doesn’t mean they’re undisciplined. I hope you didn’t knock her grade because of it.”
“I wouldn’t do such a thing, Madeline. I take my job seriously.” I forced myself to say the right thing. The thing professors say when they’re not busy making out with a student.
“Of course you do. And, I know what you mean about Savannah. She’s definitely a free spirit. Hey, you’re teaching at the Institute again this summer, right?”
“Yes. I don’t know why it took me so long to agree to do it, honestly. Last summer was wonderful.” Last summer was the first time I’d taught at the Tanglewood Institute. Young musicians preparing for a professional career, from largely upstanding backgrounds. It was a thoroughly satisfying experience.
“Excellent. I’ll be there, too. That’s why I took this past semester completely off, so I could be in top form for Tanglewood. I’m glad Savannah did well in your class, she needed to complete it for this summer.”
I shook my head, not understanding where Madeline was headed with her train of thought. Savannah was too old to attend the Institute.
Thankfully sensing my confusion, she offered more information. “I got the okay to have Savannah shadow me this summer at the Institute. She’ll be with me instructing private lessons and in the classroom setting.”
Leaning forward, trying to control the sudden bout of lightheadedness I was feeling, I looked Madeline in the eyes. “I’m sorry, what did you just say? Instructing with you? That’s absurd, she’s a student.”
“Oh, Gregory,” she waved her hand in front of me, “get over yourself. She won’t get in your way.” Suddenly, Madeline turned more serious than I was used to seeing as she rested her elbows on the desk. “You know as well as I do that she has the talent to instruct anyone who wants to play. I’ve seen her work with younger kids; she’s kind but stern. Maybe you haven’t heard her play as much as I have, so you’ll have to take my word for it, but this girl is the real deal. I want to give her as many opportunities for success as I can, since, unfortunately, I’m not sure if playing professionally is what she wants to do upon graduation.”
Controlling my physical reaction to this conversation was growing increasingly difficult. “I stand corrected. That’s absurd. What gives you the impression she wouldn’t want to play professionally?” I felt the anxiety rising through my voice but couldn’t stop it. A player with her pure musical beauty simply had to pursue a professional career. “What sense would it even make for her to attend here if not to play professionally?”
Madeline lowered her eyes slightly, rubbing her forehead. “I don’t know … I’m concerned it has something to do with her mother, but I can’t be sure.”
“What does her mother have to do with any of this?” I scoffed incredulously. Letting others affect my playing is not something I’d ever stood for.