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so.”
     
    I hugged her. “You have fun. I’ll go tomorrow, I promise.”
     
    “K.” Brielle tapped across the cement in her pointy heels with one last wave at me. “Bye.”
     
    I headed down the hall with my insides fluttering. A cool breeze lifted my long hair and chilled my neck. Music trickled through the halls from the speakers at Senior Park, a low pumping beat that stirred my need to see Mr. Christian.
     
    At Mr. Christian’s closed door I stood with my heart pounding. I heard nothing at first, and worried that he wasn’t there. Slowly I opened the door and peered in. The room was quiet and empty.
     
    I shut the door silently behind me and tried to ignore disappointment. The faint scent of his cologne hung in the air, teasing me. I closed my eyes, took in a deep breath. I’d stay whether he was here or not.
     
    Drawn to the piano, I set my bag and books on a seat and crossed to the beat up black instrument. I lowered myself onto the bench, running my hands along the worn finish of the seat, then placed my fingers on the cool ivories and closed my eyes.
     
    In my mind I heard the song he had played. When my fingers accidentally pressed into the keys and blundered out nonsensical notes, I cringed and let out a laugh.
     
    Then I heard something from the small office that adjoined the music room. I jumped to my feet and moved away from the piano, my pulse skipping.
     
    Mr. Christian appeared in the door holding a stack of papers against his chest. He looked surprised to see me.
     
    My face flushed with heat.
     
    “I didn’t know you were here,” I said.
     
    He came out. He’d taken off his coat and the sleeves of his yellow oxford were rolled up. His tie was loose around his neck. “I was going through some of this old music, seeing what was in here.”
     
    “Scary?” I clasped my hands behind my back and nodded at the pile in his arms.
     
    He chuckled. “Sort of, yeah. But some of it’s good. I think the office needs a good clean out.”
     

     
    “No doubt.” I drew closer. “I thought maybe you’d be in here practicing.”
     
    For a moment he didn’t say anything, just looked at me. “Yeah. Well, I’d like to be, but when I inherited this job, I inherited the task of getting things in order. I couldn’t sit here and indulge knowing the office needed an overhaul.”
     
    “Can’t that wait? I mean, aren’t you anxious to play your own stuff?”
     
    “Sure. But this is my job. I can play anytime.”
     
    “So you have a piano at home?”
     
    “I do. That’s why I can’t justify playing on school time.”
     
    He headed back into the office and I followed him. The room was tiny, maybe six feet by eight feet, lined with shelves, packed with papers. Inside, his cologne filled my senses.
     
    “Need some help?” I asked.
     
    After setting the pile down on a stool he looked at me.
     
    “I’m sure you’ve got friends you’d rather spend your lunch with, Eden.”
     
    My heart flipped when he said my name. “They’re at the plaza.”
     
    “Is that where all the kids eat? I noticed nobody stays around here for lunch.” He stepped up on the stepstool and reached for another pile of music on the top of one of the shelves.
     
    “Juniors and seniors leave.” He wore scruffy topsiders.
     
    My gaze wandered up his pant legs. When he reached up, the hem of his shirt lifted out of his waist band. I caught a glimpse of plaid boxers. “Are you from around here?”
     
    He thumbed through dusty piles. “Torrance.”
     
    “Yeah?” I liked that we were both from the South Bay.
     
    That he knew everything I knew about the area. “So, which high school did you graduate from?”
     
    “South.”
     
    “Cool.”
     
    “Man, some of this stuff is really cheesy.” Gathering another large bundle, he stepped down. We were so close, his knuckles brushed my arm and he looked at me. His eyes were darker in the small room, more intense. Maybe it was just that we were closer