“What?” I said. Stupidly.
“Savannah ... you’re a student. Can you imagine what it would do … my career... the conservatory ...”
I stared at him. Unable to move. Unable to think. He invited me over here to say that? “I see. Well …” I cleared my throat and took a deep breath. “I’ll, uh, just be on my way then. I’ll see you later this week, right? Wednesday? Let’s go back to the practice rooms, though, if you don’t mind.”
I hurried over to where my flute stood on its stand.
I disassembled it and put it away without drying out the inside first. I would do it later. Right now, I needed to get the hell out of Gregory Fitzgerald’s house without bursting into tears.
“Savannah, where are you going? We haven’t finished.” I couldn’t decipher if his tone had changed to one of arrogance again, or if it had remained the same this whole time and I’d become deaf to it. Either way, it infuriated me.
“We are finished. I’ll see you Wednesday.” Brushing past him and racing to the door and down the stairs, I mumbled, “I can’t believe I was so stupid …”
I grinned just slightly, imagining how up in arms he must feel to have a pissed off woman fleeing his apartment, on the brink of causing a scene. Gregory doesn’t do scenes. The grin didn’t last long though, as the weight of what I was actually feeling pressed down on my shoulders.
“Savannah, wait.” It wasn’t a yell, but his tone was commanding, sending chills down my spine.
I didn’t stop. He didn’t get to give me commands. I couldn’t turn around and face him. Not like this. He’d just made it very clear that what we were doing was an inconvenience. Some sort of a fling. Nothing that matched what I felt for him. He’d told me in Lenox that he was in love with me. And I believed him. Shit. I believed him, when all he wanted was to fool around with me behind closed doors. How did I fall into the pathetic professor/student stereotype? God.
Shit.
After a few minutes, and rounding my second corner, his footsteps were no longer following me. Looking over my shoulder I found nothing but an empty sidewalk. I’d taken the back way around his block and was now at the end of Mt. Vernon St., taking a left onto West Cedar, the school in my sights.
I would ask Marcia to just do the piece with me for my recital. She’d love it. She was a little disappointed when I told her Gregory had offered to play with me, but as a musician she understood that he’d be able to pull my best out of me. Except for now. All he was able to pull out of me today was tears and the feeling of being cheap. Used. Part of some lonely musician’s premature mid-life crisis.
“Savannah! Stop!”
I did. Because it took me by surprise to see Gregory Fitzgerald running toward me. Running. I’d never seen him run, because he’s too important for things like rushing around. The world waits for him. Or, so he thinks.
As soon as it registered it was him, I walked faster. Not quite running, because I didn’t want to cause a scene. He caught up to me as I was about to turn left and make a break for the school. Wrapping his long fingers firmly around my upper arm, he spun me around. The force of the physics jam-up of our differing directions of movement caused us to slam into each other. His other hand grabbed my other shoulder and we stood there, unmoving, apart from our ragged breathing.
“What do you want?” I looked right into his eyes, not wanting to allow him respite from the hurt I knew would be washing through them.
People passed by on either side of us, hurrying to their appointments, classes, work, wherever. They had no idea I was staring into the eyes of the person I’d fallen unwillingly in love with. The person who held my heart in their hands. The person who’d just broken it by dismissing me so easily. So coldly.
“I’m sorry. That came out wrong back at my place. I didn’t … I didn’t want you to leave, Savannah. I just … this is new territory for me.”
“For you? Ah, yes, so you assume I’ve been down this road before. That screwing professors is just something I do.” I pulled back, wanting to sink through the sidewalk.
“Damn it, Savannah,” he huffed through clenched teeth, “that’s not what I meant.” His jaw beat against his cheek like a bass drum as he considered his next words. Carefully, and so only I could hear him, he said, “I’m madly in love with you, Savannah. Madly. I can’t remember when it started, or how we ended up here, but I love you. It makes no sense, it’s incredibly risky, and, for the life of me, I just don’t care. I froze up back at my place, and I’m sorry. I’ve just never felt like this before. About anyone.”
I relaxed a little, exhaling as I rested my forehead on his chin. Tilting my head back up, I saw his eyes were soft as he looked over my face expectantly.
“I love you, too, Gregory. And I don’t care, either.”
And right there, in broad daylight, on the corner of West Cedar and Acorn St., Gregory Fitzgerald pulled me into a deep, knee-weakening kiss.
And the world disappeared.
Savannah
An hour later I returned to my dorm room. Breathless, and with weak legs, I’d walked around the block once to calm down after Gregory gave me a slow grin and turned to walk back to his place. He loved me. He said it. Again. I believed him because I had no reason not to. I loved him, too, and we were both keenly aware of the catastrophic risk we were taking. Turns out the Tin Man had a heart after all, and right there on the sidewalk he gave it to me. Risks and all.
“Well … you’re glowing,” Marcia deadpanned as I closed the door to our dorm and leaned my back against it.
“Mm-hmm.” I nodded, biting my lip as I fought off a foolish grin.
“I take it things went, uh, well at his place?” The way she arched her eyebrow caused me to blush even deeper.
I shook my head and made my way to sit next to her on her bed. “Not like that, Marcia. Jesus. We do practice, you know …”
“Uh-huh, in between heavy make out sessions?”