subject we both carefully avoid for an hour is Rizzo.

That’s when Andrea and his usual crew walk in, and we both know it won’t be long before Rizzo

shows up as well. Thursday. Vocal Production class must be over. I feel lame for having his schedule

memorized.

I glance at my watch. “Shall we leave?”

Casey nods quickly. “Okay.”

We’re out of there faster than you can say “chicken shit”, and naturally, it’s just then started to snow

again.

“Crap.” I pull my coat tighter around me, and we both stand under the roof indecisively for a minute,

staring into the big, dancing snowflakes. You almost can’t make out the trees along the paths through

them. The smell of snow fills the air. Wintertime can really kiss my ass. I’m so ready for spring. It’s

freezing, too.

Casey glances at me. “Where to?”

“Listen, I kinda still need to finish an assignment.”

“Okay.”

“But this was nice,” I hear myself admitting before I can stop myself.

He smiles brightly. “Same time tomorrow then?”

“Sure.”

There’s a silence between us again for a minute, but this time it’s not awkward. I used to love that,

our comfortable silences.

“It was good to see you, James.” He pulls me into a hug, and I pull him close.

“I’m not over him either,” he whispers suddenly, close to my ear.

I can feel myself tense noticeably, but Casey doesn’t let go. “You, my friend, need to go tell him,

though.”

“Tell him what?” I hate that my voice sounds all hoarse.

“That you want him back, of course, silly. Because if you don’t, I will.”

I pull back abruptly. “What? No, you won’t!”

He shrugs, almost mischievously, his breath visible in the chilly air. “Someone has to do something.”

“Yeah, and that involves staying the hell away from him!”

“And quietly moping for the rest of your life?”

“As if!” I snort. “Not the entire rest of my life,” I add quietly, and Casey chuckles.

He looks at me with kind eyes. “I knew it. James, you’re such an idiot. Let me talk to him.”

“You try that, and I’ll never speak to you again. I swear.”

“You make a fine drama queen, did you know?”

“Casey, I’m serious. The thing with him… it’s over. End of story.”

He just gives me a look, and starts to walk towards the dorm. I follow him into the falling snow, my

heart beating madly. “Swear you won’t say a word to him. I mean it!”

But he just smiles to himself and falls into an easy jog, quickly disappearing behind a curtain of

twirling snowflakes. His voice echoes along the pathway: “See you tomorrow, James!”

I stare after him, dumbfounded, a feeling of impending doom creeping over me. He didn’t mean that,

right? He’s not actually gonna try to… is he?

Oh boy. I start to run after him. “Casey, wait up!”

But he’s already gone.

Chapter 7

Second Chances

NICK: Damn insomnia. I swear you don’t know how sweet being able to sleep is until you can’t do it

anymore. Staring at the wall or the ceiling, thoughts going a million miles an hour, body being

absolutely trashed with exhaustion, but not being able to sleep. It’s a goddamn nightmare, if you’ll

excuse the pun. Ha-damn-ha.

Doc doesn’t want to put me on sleeping pills yet, but I can’t stand just laying there in my room, so

I’ve settled into a cycle. I stay out at the cafe almost every night for as late as I can stand it, then head

back to my room, dragging myself the entire way. Then I stay up even longer, usually dicking around on

my computer, before hauling myself over to my bed, to hopefully pass out for a few hours.

It’s not great, but it’s the best I’ve got right now. Riz usually joins me at the cafe when he can. I get

the feeling that he doesn’t always sleep much either. I appreciate the company, so I haven’t called him

on the way he looks pretty exhausted sometimes too.

It’s a night without him though, and the entire campus is dark by the time I make my way back from

the cafe to my room. Even though it’s more than a little creepy, I cut through the drama department,

passing the doors to the large theater auditorium. They’re closed, but there’s piano music sneaking out

around the cracks. I hesitate near one and listen. The sound is distorted a little through the door, but

whoever it is, and it must be a music major, they’re real good. I want to sneak inside to see who it is,

maybe listen a little, but before I can decide if I should, the song stops. There isn’t another to follow it,

so I hurry down the hall before the person comes out and sees me listening at the doors like a creep.

***

The next night, when I take the same shortcut, one of the doors to the auditorium is cracked open, so I

slip inside. The theater is dark except for a few lights near the front of the house. There’s a grand piano,

shining and sleek, sitting center stage, and the musician that’s coaxing such sweet sounds from it shocks

me.

It’s Rizzo.

I didn’t even know that he could play at all, much less anything like this. I ease silently into one of

the seats in the last row, getting as lost in the music as he seems to be. It’s nothing I recognize, angry

and sad and bittersweet, and there’s something about it, some twist of melody, that’s so Rizzo that it

makes me ache a little. Reminds me of the way he can be when it’s just us talking about something.

Despite my stealthy listening, it’s not music for anyone but himself, and that makes it all the better.

Long moments of sound pass in notes and beats and nothing else before I realize that I’m not the

only one listening. Jeff slipped in at some point, and is standing there, hip against a seat across the aisle

from me, watching the stage. He scares the crap out of me when I see him, not expecting anyone else to

be there this late, and the movement of it catches his eye. He looks at me and tilts his head toward the

door behind us, an invitation for me to join him in the hallway. I know that I shouldn’t be intruding on

Rizzo like this anyway, so I nod and we leave the auditorium as quietly as we can.

It doesn’t surprise me when we start walking toward his office, quiet for a while before he clears his

throat. “Not many people get to see that. Not many people even know he plays. I think he’d appreciate

if it stayed that way.”

I’m not an idiot, and I nod in reply. Riz was past good enough to play for anyone, much less the

people he usually hangs out with. It’s something else that people would love about him, just like acting.

The fact that he doesn’t tell anyone means he’s got a reason not to, and I’m not going to be the one that

screws that up.

We make it to Jeff’s office, and he gestures at one of the chairs. Being in there again brings back the

hazy memories of getting kicked off the cast, but I try to forget that. It doesn’t work very well, and I

find myself trying to figure out what the hell I’ve done wrong now.

“He’s in there playing a few times a week. More if he needs to. I don’t ask questions - just make sure

he can get in and that no one hassles him.” Jeff digs through the piles on his desk, looking for something

as he talks. I watch him without saying anything, waiting for something that requires me to reply.

“I think he plays more when something’s bothering him. He’s been in there almost every night for

the past few weeks, and I knew he’d be in there after today…”

He trails off, and finally really looks at me, even though I know he’s been doing his creepy peoplewatching

thing at me the whole time. I’m not sure I’m comfortable under that sort of attention right

now. “What happened today?” I force the question out, even though I’m not sure I need to, and he