After that intense session, Ms. Vanderstuck did not want to let me leave by myself. She had called Aunt Christina to come over and pick me up, so now I found myself in the car with a worried Aunt Christina.

I sat in the car next to her, but I looked the other way absentmindedly. I felt tired and empty.  Images of that night kept repeating themselves in front of my eyes like a movie, ending every time with that big ball of blazing flames. The smell of that explosion still lingered in my nostrils each time those images came to me. I wanted it to stop, but nothing was helping me.

When we got home, Aunt Christina guided me to my room and tucked me into my bed. While caressing my head she said “Try to sleep a little. It will help your mind to put things into perspective.”

Her hand reminded me of my mother. My mother used to caress me like that when I had bad dreams. Before I knew it, the words “Stay with me. I do not want to be alone.” Had left my mouth. I could see the surprise on Aunt Christina’s face. She gently nodded as I lay my head on her lap. I cried again, but this time there was no anger. Only sadness. I missed them all so much. Aunt Christina caressed my hair while my body gave in to the fatigue created by the emotional stress of this afternoon as I slowly fell asleep.

---

When I woke back up, I noticed the sun was already starting to set outside. My head no longer rested on Aunt Christina’s lap, but she sat in the armchair in my room reading a book. When she noticed I was awake, she smiled and said, “Feeling a little better?”

Strangely enough, I did. I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, and I felt strangely relaxed. I looked around the room and noticed the message alert on my phone blinking. I unlocked my phone and saw that I missed a call and had received a bunch of messages from Sara.

“I am stuck with the etudes. I just can’t get them to sound like music. They always just sound like exercises.”

I could get that. They were already hard to get right that way.

“My teacher said I should give up on the entrance exam. He said I lack the talent to make it.” Ugh. Stupid teacher. If he does not manage to teach something to a hardworking student, it’s of course the student’s fault. There was a reason I no longer wanted to go to the academy. They only hold you back if you mean real business.

“Can you help me?”

“Please? m(-_-)m”

Then came the missed call.

“Please don’t ignore me. I really need your help. Aren’t we friends?”

After that, there were a few more messages that made me feel even more like I abandoned a puppy.

 I looked at the time. It was 6 pm. I had seen her only 3 hours ago. In what kind of social mess did I get by just sleeping for a couple of hours?

Aunt Christina was looking at me and asked “Troubles?”

“Sara thinks I am ignoring her because I did not reply.”

“Ah, some regular teenager drama. I am sure you can handle that by yourself.”

I saw her get ready to leave the room. My mind was racing on how to solve this mess. There was one way that immediately sprang to mind.

“Wait!”

Aunt Christina looked back at me questioningly.

“C-can I invite her over? She needs help.”

“Of course, you can. Ask her if she wants to stay for dinner since I am just about to start cooking.”

I picked up my phone and nervously called her. When Sara picked up, I could hear from her voice that she had been crying.

“Are you okay? I just noticed all your messages.”

Sara instantly broke down. I know she had practiced really hard, but that had resulted only in her teacher slamming down on her hard and telling her she lacked the talent for the entrance exam. She sounded completely at the end of her ropes, but when I said the words “Want to come over? Maybe the both of us can find a way together,” she immediately cheered up.

“Really? You mean it?” She sounded like the best thing in the world just happened to her. Just like when I met her, she always went from one extreme emotion to the other one.

“Mhm, my aunt asked me to invite you for dinner.”

“Let me check with my parents.”

Not even 20 minutes later the doorbell rang, and Sara entered the door with her cello on her back and her bright disarming smile on her face.

Aunt Christina welcomed her in enthusiastically. It was clear that she was overjoyed to have a friend of mine in the house, and at the same time, it was more than clear that she was not used to having my friends over. She was overdoing it. I felt a little embarrassed.

I wasn’t very good at these kinds of talks, so I got immediately to business. “How much time do we have until dinner?” I asked my aunt.

“Dinner will be ready in 40 minutes,” she answered.

“And I need to be home by nine,” Sara added. Well, that was only normal on a school night. Sara was only 14 after all…

“Then let’s get going.” I made her follow me to my room. Sara was looking around with big eyes. I could see she was nervous. Her nervousness made me realize that this would be the first time anyone else than my aunt would enter my room. Not that there was anything to see. It’s not that I had bothered with decorating it. Those were unnecessary frivolities after all. All I had was the furniture Aunt Christina had put in here.

When we entered my spartan-styled room, Sara looked around at every detail. I realized I had only one chair to play the cello, so I quickly went to get another one in the kitchen.

When I returned, Sara was looking at my cello and the notes on my scores.

“I see you still play on the same cello. “

I did not want to talk about the past, I had enough of that already today, so I decided to try and play it off by turning the discussion to her.

“And I see you’ve grown out of your old instrument.” She used to play on a ¾ cello for kids back in the day.

Sara looked proudly at me and said “Yes, I got too big for it,” like it was some kind of achievement.

“I’m a bit nervous to see how good you’ve gotten,” Sara then said, “Those bindings combined with that fingering… That is completely insane. Can you really pull that off?”

“We are not here to talk about me, we are here to help you today,” I said while picking up my cello. Play for me, so I can see what you are struggling with.

She started playing Popper’s first etude rigorously. Everything she did was technically correct, but the end result was an emotionless brick of focus on playing every single note correctly. Way too robust. I could see that if she went to the entrance exam like this, it would only result in utter failure.

Instead of saying what was wrong, I played a few notes here and there, just like Aleksei had done for me, forcing her to leave the rigorous playstyle, opening it up to a more joyful tune. Just like she is when she is in a happy mood, with that disarming smile. A happy-go-lucky puppy. The message conveyed in my notes was “Relax! Be yourself! Just have fun.” Nothing more.

At first, I could see she was confused by the notes I added, but shortly after she started to get my nudges, her muscles started to relax while playing and her tune transformed before my eyes.

After she finished playing, I could see she was almost out of breath. But at the same time, I knew she had already broken through the wall she made for herself.

“How did you do that? How did you completely transform what I was doing?”

“What do you mean, I just played a few notes. You did it all yourself.” I tried playing it off. This was her own achievement, not mine. I did not want her to project it all on me.

“While you played those notes, it suddenly all made sense. It was like something disappeared and I could finally play again.”

“You should not forget to enjoy playing. The competition is important, but the music is more important.”

Listen to me preach. How long had it been that I played for my enjoyment?

We kept at it. I had also started commenting on her posture and fingering. I threw out the notes her teacher had given her and gave her a fingering scheme that was harder but that would make it at the same time easier to make the tune sound joyful.

I could see the doubt in her eyes before saying “Is it really possible to do that? That looks impossible.”

I sighed. It seemed there would be no other way. I picked up my cello and played it myself on sight. I projected a happy Sara with her defenseless smile. When I finished, I had a bright smile on my own face. It made me realize it had been ages since I had played a joyful tune myself.

I felt like I had betrayed Lise. So, I immediately put down my cello to avoid doing something like that again on reflex and said “See, it’s possible.”

Sara was staring at me with her mouth open. “Y-you are incredible.” Then she almost instantly became dejected and said “How am I supposed to beat that…”

I gave her a friendly nudge and said “Stop giving up before the battle. I want us both to make it. I’m here to help you.”

Her smile instantly returned at my words and her eyes became determined again. “Yes! With your help, I am sure we will both be able to make it!”

I shook my head. It was always an emotional rollercoaster with her.

A short while later Aunt Christina came to call us over for dinner. Aunt Christina had made a variety of little puff pastry dishes. I could spot cheese and ham rolls, sausage bread, a couple of fish-shaped ones which I suspected were grey shrimp and cheese and there were also several sweet ones. Like apple turnovers and sweet stars with apricots. She had really outdone herself and it was certain anyone would find something they liked on this puff pastry smorgasbord.

“You know there are only three of us, right?” I said seeing the amazing spread. Aunt Christina laughed a bit nervously and said “I guess I got a bit excited. I was having fun making all the shapes and then it got out of hand…” You could easily feed 6 people with what was staring at us on the table.

Sara looked at the spread with glittering eyes. She looked like she was in paradise. “This looks amazing!”

During dinner, I noticed that for such a small girl, Sara sure ate a lot. I was really amazed by how much she could eat and how fast she was eating it. You would almost think she hadn’t been fed this week. For a small, cute girl like her, the contrast was uncanny, but at the same time, it just added to her charm. Nobody would expect that she could eat like this. Aunt Christina and I had not yet taken seconds, but I think Sara was already on her thirds.  I started watching the show with a big smile on my face. After a few seconds, Sara noticed and said “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“No, it’s nothing.”

She looked at me while pouting. She was clearly suspicious of me. That was the drip that made the bucket spill. It was too much for me to take. In response, I just ruffled her hair. “Just enjoy your dinner.”

Aunt Christina looked at our interaction with a smile on her face. Her smile made me realize that I was enjoying myself, and I smiled back at her earning a ruffle in my own hair from her. I could hardly say something about that since I had just done the same thing to Sara. Sara laughed at the spectacle.

 Ms. Vanderstuck had been right. I realized I was not just being friendly with Sara just for her sake. I had been lying to myself. I was doing this for myself too. It felt nice to connect with someone again. To have a friend. This feeling at the dinner table wasn’t too bad. Having a friend over for the first time also helped Aunt Christina and me to clear the mood at the dinner table.  

I did feel guilty about wasting my precious practice time like this, but I promised myself that tonight and in the coming days, I would practice super hard to make up for the time I wasted today.