Chapter 129

"I do. And you have a violin, right?" I shook my head. I had planned to go to the library again with Dante to read Romeo and Juliet together. However, my mind exploded as soon as my schedule popped into my head. — "I have violin class today," I blurted out, surprised. — "Yes, you do. Seriously, I know your schedule better than you?" I sighed in frustration. There was no way to contact Dante. Now I had a phone, but he didn’t. To make matters worse, I couldn’t skip violin class, or my parents would be upset with me. — "Don’t you want to go?" Kayleen read my face. "You love the violin. What’s going on?" — "Nothing, nothing." — "Is it because of the piano? You don’t have to be good at everything, Lia. We’ve talked about this." — "It’s not about the piano. Forget it." Cullbert studied me for a moment before packing away his thoughts. I didn’t have the courage to tell anyone that I was reading with Faulkner. He was a forbidden case because of what happened four months ago with the kidnapping. But I liked his company. It was good, even though it was strange. I didn’t know why, but the idea of having Dante in my life didn’t seem as bad as others might think. I was late. Class had ended, but I stayed behind practicing the piece with my classmates, and time slipped away from me. I grabbed my violin and my backpack and rushed out the door. I had to go down the stairs, cross some hallways since the school was huge, and there was one thing I wasn’t very good at: running. I hated physical exercise, even though my mom had tried to get me to become a gymnast like Kayleen. Then they realized I was better with the violin and a few piano keys. When I reached the hallway, the sound of the violin slipped through the walls. I thought it was my mind replaying pieces I needed to know, but the sound left my head, reaching parts of my body. It was so good. I loved music. It connected fully with my soul. It was so much more than instruments making sounds with hands. They were notes created, thought out, and mastered by a melody coming from the heart. That’s why I ended up entering the room. It was empty, the afternoon sun peeking through the window and leaving its traces across the space. But my gaze fixated on a more human, intense, and dark scene. There was Dante Faulkner playing the violin, in his own world. I was so surprised. I couldn’t reconcile the fact that he was in my school, playing the violin, in the middle of the afternoon. But my shock was because Dante was playing Kreutzer. Exactly the piece I didn’t know how to perform. Neither on the piano nor the violin. His ease was sublime. Beautiful beyond words. And I didn’t know whether to envy or fall in love with his performance. The structure of his face was covered with complete seriousness. He read the notes. I felt them deep within his being. However, there was more. So much more than the music required, and that was what drew me to him. What fascinated me about him at that moment. Suddenly, the music faltered. I was pulled from my immersion, and my eyes collided with Faulkner’s intense and dark gaze. — "You have a huge thing for watching me." He gently set the instrument in its place and walked toward me, taking slow steps. — "You can’t be here. No non-students are allowed in the school," I warned. — "Oh, really? Well, I don’t care about the rules. They weren’t made for me," he replied skeptically, shrugging. — "You just don’t like obeying." — "And you love following orders. Got it? We’re the perfect pair, prodigy girl," he mocked. Dante took another step, his clearly worn sneakers and comfortable outfit of black pants and a white T-shirt. — "You need to go, Dante." — "I was waiting for you," he began, shortening his steps. "But I didn’t see you, so I assumed you’d be here." — "And how did you get in?" — "There are doors and windows. I believe you know them." I couldn’t tell if he liked to humiliate me. "I decided to have fun listening to you and your group of colleagues pretending to know how to play." — "You’ve been watching me the whole time?" I asked, embarrassed. He had seen my mistakes and the difficulty I had playing the piece. — "You’re not the only one with your fascinations." I frowned thoughtfully. Although I didn’t fully understand what he meant, I blushed. My cheeks turned red, and my fingers folded in embarrassment. — "I’m learning how to get your attention," he continued. "Music is one of them, from what I see." — "You play well. Where did you learn?" Dante shrugged again. — "You learn a lot when you’re alone." — "You learned to play the violin... alone?" I was incredulous. — "I have no one, Emília." His answer was harsh and painful. — "One day, you will," I murmured. — "Who?" His question seemed to demand a specific answer. Me. But sometimes, I didn’t have the courage for certain things. — "You’ll be adopted, someday." — "I don’t want that," he confessed. "I’ll wait until I’m eighteen to move on with my life." — "Why not?" — "Because I’d be ruining the life of whoever invited me to be part of theirs." That gave wings to a different feeling. My throat tightened with a ball of ice, and I couldn’t say anything. I studied him, waiting for a laugh, but Dante was serious in what he said. — "Why do you say that?" I whispered, cautious. He looked away. — "You coming?" he asked, ignoring my question. Faulkner was so strange. He avoided talking about certain subjects, even though they weren’t anything major. I wanted to know more about him, but it was so difficult when he pretended the conversation never existed. — "Where?" — "To the library. I thought we had a date." — "I can’t, Dante," I sighed. "I have to go home and finish some work." His silence bothered me, especially as his fingers ran through his dark hair. — "Then, let’s go," he said, finally. — "Where?" I raised an eyebrow. He took my violin from my hand and opened the door. — "To your house to finish your work, right?" I blinked in shock. I stopped Dante from moving forward, facing him. I hated that we had such a height difference, but it was worse when my eyes met his. Even our souls seemed distant from each other. — "We can’t." — "Why not?" "It’s my house." — "Well, that’s good. That’s exactly where I want to go." I took a deep breath. Stubborn. — "But you… I don’t know if…" I paused. "I don’t know if my parents will want me to bring a boy." Dante smiled slightly, which made me wonder why. There was nothing funny about making me panic. — "Do you live in a tower, small one?" I raised an eyebrow. — "No." — "Then, I’ll be able to climb. Don’t worry." And he started whistling, heading out of the room. — "Dante!" I was left not knowing how to stop him, so I followed, wondering how I would explain to the city, especially my parents, that I was walking with Dante Faulkner, the kid from the kidnapping.