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1
SUMMER
Smiling and nodding while your arrogant ex gives you bad advice isn’t easy. But I try.
I’m lucky that my motivational quote of the day was about patience this morning. Patience is bitter, but the fruit is sweet. Wise words that beamed from my quote of the day app after I shut off my alarm.
My smile is strained and thin as I repeat the mantra in my head, trying to internalize it.
“Well, that’s an … interesting perspective, Sean,” I reply, choosing my words. “I’ll keep it in mind, but …”
“What do you think, Jeremy?” Sean, my ex, slices his gaze towards my duet partner, sitting next to me at his piano.
Jeremy and I are scheduled to perform a duet at a Mozart competition for college music students in New York later this fall. It’s one of the most prestigious college music competitions in the country, and we’re going to be performing Mozart’s Sonata for Violin and Piano in G Major. Jeremy on piano, me on violin.
In Sean’s opinion, our performance isn’t dramatic enough.
In Sean’s opinion, no performance is dramatic enough if your face isn’t contorted in artistic agony, or you’re not gesticulating like a Shakespearean actor with every note of the music.
With his sharp but sensitive features and his long black hair that sweeps over his eyes when he leans over his piano keys, Sean’s as much a stage actor as he is a musician during his performances. Audiences and judges eat it up.
I have to admit, so did I—until I realized what a calculated, artificial act it all is on his part.
“Well, uh …” Jeremy hesitates, his eyes ricocheting between me and Sean. Jeremy’s a sophomore while Sean is a senior, and like most students in the Brumehill College music department, Jeremy looks up to Sean. Practically idolizes him.
But Jeremy has to know Sean is totally off base here. Sean’s “advice” that we take a more dramatic, darker approach is totally wrong for this piece, not to mention both my and Jeremy’s playing styles.
It’s obvious what Sean’s doing. Trying to make himself helpful; trying to make me feel like I need him. Trying to slither back into my life any way he can,
“Dramatic doesn’t work for this sonata, Sean,” I say, realizing Jeremy is having a hard time disagreeing with the older pianist who every music professor in our program fawns over.
“This sonata’s been played a million times,” Sean says, his voice picking up a patronizing softness. The tone would make me roll my eyes if I weren’t determined not to be rude. “Judges are looking for new takes on old pieces. You need to make this piece your own, go in a direction no one’s taken it before.”
I look to Jeremy. A knot of tension tightens in my stomach when I see an arch on his brow that tells me Sean might be getting to him. The last thing I need is for both my meddling ex and my duet partner to have the same hair brained idea.
But I don’t have the time to plead my case in detail right now. This was supposed to be just a quick, informal tune-up session with Jeremy. I have my first class of the semester to get to, English, and if I don’t leave for it now, I’m going to be late.
I set my violin into its case. “Thank you for your perspective, Sean, but I’m pretty sure we’re going to stick to a more traditional interpretation.”
“Just keep an open mind, Summer,” he says, leaning against one of the support columns in the rehearsal room, his arms folded across his chest. “I know you’re not the open-minded type, but winning this competition could be a great boost for your career.”
My breath hitches at that comment. About me not being open-minded.
Frustration prickles at the back of my neck.
I try hard not to think negative thoughts about people, and I especially try not to say negative things to them. But that below-the-belt shot from Sean really tests that resolution.
It’s clear what he’s referring to. The reason we broke up.
Over the summer, Sean got an incredible opportunity to be a guest pianist with an orchestra in Europe. I was so excited for him, eager to stay in touch with him during his trip and share the adventure with him even though I was staying back in America.
Then, the day before his flight, he told me he wanted us to take a temporary break while he was away. That we’d both have a “free pass” to hook up with whoever we wanted to while he was gone, and that we’d resume things when he got back.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. When I realized he was actually serious, it was the most hurt I’ve ever been.
We’d been together for a year and a half, but obviously we were on different pages all along.
With my heart feeling torn in my chest, I broke up with him.
