Scott and I don't exactly spend the entire day together. After making breakfast together – that I surprisingly managed to eat without feeling like throwing it all up – I get back home. I need to change and although Scott has been all kinds of perfect, after everything that happened yesterday I think that I need a little alone time.

But, of course, I get home and I am reminded immediately that this is not the best place for alone time. "Yesterday's clothes," Grace comments. "Someone is doing the walk of shame."

She has no idea.

“Please tell me it wasn’t Damian,” Kate says.

“It wasn’t,” I reply.

They don’t ask any more questions. One-night adventures are allowed. And I don’t give them more details. I don’t really know what happened yesterday. I mean… of course, I know what happened, I just don’t know what that means.

“Can you help me practice tonight?” she asks.

“I’m actually going to the theatre with Scott. But I can help you now. Or this afternoon.”

“Thanks. That would be great! Oh, and if you’re about to give up on your non-dating thing, I’m happy it’s not with Damian. I’m also happy it’s with Scott.”

“It’s not a date.” Is it not, though?

“Are you sure?” Kate pushes.

“I’m sure.”

“I talked to Taz about Scott,” Grace confesses. “I thought the two of you were cute together and I wanted to know if there was something there. Apparently, Scott is quite a player.”

“What does that even mean?” I ask, annoyed that she would put in front of me a truth I don’t want to see.

“Nothing. Just that he doesn’t seem to be boyfriend material.”

“I’m not allowed to date anyway.”

“Hey, don’t be snappy with me. I never told you you weren’t allowed to date. You created that rule yourself and I always tried to support you with it. The only line I pushed harder is the one with Damian. Because I don’t actually think the reason you want to get back with him is that you’re madly in love. I think you’re afraid and he is familiar. But Scott seems different. There is a spark between the two of you and I’ve seen firsthand how hard and fast you fall for people. You saw good in Clark, for God’s sake. And Scott… it would be so easy to fall for him. And he’ll surely be there for fun and games, but he won’t fall for you back. I just want you to be careful with your heart, that’s all.”

She’s right and that hurts. Because yesterday’s feelings weren’t coming from the pills. I could fall for him so easily. He’s been so perfect every time I met him. Different kinds of perfect, too. “Nothing is happening with Scott,” I simply reply. I don’t even know if it’s a lie.

“Just so you know,” she adds, “I would get it if it were. I would support it, even. I just don’t think it would end the way you’d hope.”

“I’m going to shower and get some fresh clothes,” I say. “And then can we talk about something else?”

Scott… I knew he would be in shape for his job, I just didn’t expect him to be this in shape. We started with a run. A race. That he won effortlessly. I challenged him on the fact that he has to chase people but that I used to have to be able to keep running for nearly two hours. So we decided to go for a run and see who would need a break first. It was me.

“I must admit,” I tell him, “I’m impressed.”

“I told you I would win.”

“Yeah, well… still. Not bad. For an old man.”

“Keep being sassy if that helps you. That won’t take my victory away.”

“You really like winning, don’t you?”

“Or maybe I want to hear you play the violin so badly. I’ve heard you’re quite good.” And he is flirting again. I have no idea if he is serious or not, and I don’t mind it either way, it would just be nice to know if my stomach is right to get a few butterflies every time.

“Fine. I’ll play for you.”

“Great. When?”

“When?”

“Yes, when. If you don’t put a time frame after a bet, people tend to never deliver.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you. Plus, I happen to enjoy playing the violin.”

“Fantastic. Let’s do this now.”

“Now? I don’t actually have a violin hidden in my pocket.”

“How about I get to your place early tonight? Not much, just enough for a private concert?”

“Sure,” I say. But suddenly, I feel a little nervous. I think I want to practice a little before he gets there. “What do you want to hear?”

He shrugs. “Anything. But maybe you could start with the Lion King.”

He has this soft yet cheeky smile again. I think I could fall in love with that smile alone. On a completely different note, I am surprised he remembered that. I’m always surprised by how much he remembers. How much he listened in the first place. “I told you. It requires more than a violin. Maybe I should play something else.”

“Nah. I want to hear Tiny Andrew Scott making his dream come true.”

“Fine. I’ll play the Lion King. Your turn to give me a time frame.”

“For the tattoo?”

“Yes.”

“Tonight. If you’re as good as people say you are.”

I open the door and it’s like I’ve been punched in the stomach. Scott got dressed up, not enough to be formal, but enough to be so handsome that it hurts. So… does that mean he pictures tonight as a date?

He seems to have noticed something because he asks: “Is it too much?” he asks. “I didn’t actually know if we’re supposed to dress up for the theater.”

“No, that’s the opera. And that’s not all operas, not all the time… But it’s not too much. You look amazing.”

“You too,” he replies with that smile I love. “But that just your face.”

Did he just call my face amazing? Alright, at this point, this is clearly flirting, right? The thing is… what does he want? A bit of fun tonight? More? I could do one night of fun, but… I remember Scott walking out of the lounge with Stan and then discarding him. I don’t want that. Even if we are just having fun, I want to be important to him. To stand out from the other boys.

But maybe Grace is right. Scott is dangerous. I would fall in love with him in a heartbeat, wouldn’t I? Do I just fall for any boy who happens to look at me?

I invite him in and we spend a moment with the girls. I like how natural he is with them. And I don’t think that it’s because they are my friends and he is being politely interested, I think Scott takes a genuine interest in the people he meets.

We end up in my room for that ‘private concert’. He sits on my bed and I stand by the door. The girls will probably be able to hear some of that but I know they won’t mind. And at least it will be a welcome break from Scheherazade. I am more nervous than I thought to play for him. Especially as I ended up helping Kate practice and I am afraid to be rusty on everything else.

This almost feels like an audition. I just don’t know what I’m auditioning for.

I close my eyes. It always helps me picture the music as I am playing, but it also helps me tuning Scott out. I play that part from the Lion King that I mentioned to him. I am pleasantly surprised to notice that although I haven’t played it in years, it’s still in my fingers. And in my heart, too, as it always feels special to play it. Maybe it is little Andrew achieving his dream, in a way.

I finish and I look back at him. His eyes seem bigger than usual, intensely staring at me. I nervously wait for a verdict when he says: “Play something else.”

“Like what?”

“Anything.”

“What do you like?”

“I don’t know anything about classical music.”

“I can play something else.”

“No. I want you to take me to your world. Play the one thing you were the proudest to master.”

That’s an easy one. I nearly cried the day my teacher introduced me to Paganini for the first time. But I nearly cried again – of joy this time – when I mastered Caprice 24. This one, however, I don’t know if I’ll nail. I haven’t played it in a while, and it doesn’t exactly stay in the fingers.

I am doing so well, entirely focused on the music, having almost forgotten about Scott in the room, and I am halfway through the fifth variation when I hear Kate shouting from the living room: “No one likes a show-off.” Obviously, that distracts me and I play the wrong note. I can hear her giggle. I roll my eyes and shout back: “What do you want me to play, then?”

“Chopin’s Nocturne.”

What? “That’s not a violin piece.”

“So?”

Good point, actually. Alright, so. Chopin. I don’t play that very often and I don’t think I ever played one of the nocturnes. But I can do this. All I need to do is remember the melody of one of them. Probably opus nine…

I close my eyes again but this time it’s to focus. This won’t be technically perfect. I am not going to play music, I am going to let the music guide me. At least Scott said he wasn’t very well versed in classical music and he probably won’t be able to tell if I make a mistake. Or ten. Or if I have to improvise because I don’t remember how it ends…

“So?” I ask when I’m done and we vaguely hear clapping on the other side of the door. I’m pretty sure it’s not sarcastic clapping but I’ll check later.

“So, what?”

“Was it good enough to see the tattoo?”