It was at times like this when I wished I knew how to calm my nerves. The saying always said to have a drink, calm your nerves but I never was the alcohol type of person. So instead, I jiggled my foot, tapping my fingers against my jean clad knee. Elliot sat beside me, his face the perfect expression of boredom. He didn't seem nervous at all. Of course, his piano playing was so amazing he didn't need to be anxious. On my other side, sat Paul, going over my piece with me one last time before I was called up for my audition. Somehow, Elliot and I were at the bottom of the list.

Olivia had been first, and she'd seemed pretty confident when she marched out of the audition room five minutes after she entered it.

I hadn't seen Mr. Tucker yet, but that wasn't bothering me too much.

"Allie... Allie, are you listening to me?"

"Umm, what?" I responded distractedly, tearing my eyes away from the door that led to the audition room, and to Paul.

His green eyes twinkled in amusement. "I never took you to be the nervous type."

I chewed on my bottom lip. "Surprise."

"Calm down," he urged, putting a hand on my shoulder. "You'll mess up if you aren't calm."

"Easier said than done," I muttered.

Smiling, he offered me the mug he held in his left hand. "Have a sip of this."

"I don't drink—"

"It's tea," he interjected, rolling his eyes. "I'm not old enough to drink either, remember? Close, but not quite."

Cautiously raising the mug to my lips, I took a tiny sip. The tea was warm and sweet. I raised the mug to my lips again and took a longer gulp. It was really sweet. "What kind is this?"

"Vanilla and caramel... with like, half a cup of honey and five tablespoons of sugar," Paul admitted sheepishly. "I have a sweet tooth."

"I figured as much... don't think I don't notice all the ice cream in the freezer and cookies in the cabinets. And candy wrappers in the trash," I teased.

Paul sent me a warning look, pressing his finger to his lips. "Shh."

I blinked. Right. We were in public. And it wouldn't be swell to let the public know we were living together. "A-anyway... Do you think I'll make it?"

There was no hesitation before his answer, not even a blink. "I have full confidence in you." And there was full confidence behind his words. "You can do it, Allie. You're an amazing pianist."

"Not as amazing as you," I pointed out.

"I'm a professional," he responded with a shrug, "but you're close. And you could've chosen a better piece, but I was too much of a jerk to give you much time in advance."

I smiled softly at him. "It's fine, Pa— Mr. Russet. I'm sure I'll be fine with Chopin."

"Yeah, me too. I also have full confidence in Elliot," Paul added, leaning forward to grin at the grumpy young man.

"Screw off."

I grimaced. "Elliot..."

"Why are you here, then?" Paul challenged.

"Because I asked him to audition with me," I said before Elliot could make some snide remark. "And he's such a great friend, he easily agreed."

Paul beamed at the younger brunet. "I always knew you had at least one ounce of kindness inside you."

"Shut up," Elliot growled.

"Elliot Allen!" a short, bespectacled woman near the door of the audition room called.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Elliot forced himself out of his chair. "Good luck!" I wished him, shooting him a bright smile.

Paul smacked his ass.

"Hey!" Elliot protested, but Paul was laughing too much to notice. I bit my bottom lip, trying to keep my smile to myself. It wasn't working. "Go home," Elliot muttered as he stalked over to the audition room.

"You're going to get arrested for sexual harassment," I warned Paul.

"Yeah, right after Kyle gets his arrest warrant."

For a moment I stayed quiet, debating on whether or not that was a dig at Mr. Tucker. Judging by the small smile still on Paul's face, I figured it was just a joke. Still, it unsettled me. "What? Has something happened with him?"

Paul's gaze turned to me and he frowned. "Well, no... but he has dated a few female students, and at any school that wouldn't settle well with the law."

"Even if the student is eighteen?"

"Well, no, but..."

I cocked my head to the side. "Does that matter at this school? Or... wait, last year he was dating a student, wasn't he?"

"No, that law still applies... but it can be easily amended with parental consent, as it is in any case that isn't student and teacher." Paul seemed uncomfortable talking about the subject. He pulled at the tie around his neck, fidgeting in his seat. "Kyle has never broken the law per se..."

"And you can't tell me he's the only one who dates his students," I argued, remembering a girl in my math class bragging about the gym teacher.

"It's still morally wrong," Paul concluded, crossing his arms.

I set my jaw. "Unless it comes to you and Olivia?"

He gave me an exasperated look. "Allie, I don't like Olivia like that. She's just a student. A good student, and I admire her piano playing skills—"

"Oh, I bet you do."

"— just like I admire yours," he finished firmly. "What's up with you anyway? Why does it even matter?"

Now crossing my arms, I turned away from him. "I just happen to know what kind of girl she is."

"No, Allie, you just happen to know what kind of girl you want to see judging by the part of her personality you've seen. Come on. Everyone has a mean side to them."

"But at least some of us have the decency to hold it back."

"I hope you're not including yourself in that."

Even though his comment should've made me angry, a smile cracked on my face. He smiled back. "Sometimes I don't," I relented, shaking my head. "But I wouldn't take it out on a stranger."

"I have to admit, she's not exactly the friendliest person... but she's not exactly the worst either."

I rubbed my forehead wearily. "Okay, whatever. Can we just not talk about her anymore? We aren't going to be friends, if that's what you're planning on making happen."

Now Paul laughed. "I wouldn't dream of it. Girls in our section just don't get along with the other girls in our section."

"A few of them seem... nice." I couldn't say much more than that. The students in piano barely talked to one another. Elliot and I were the odd pair out. Everyone else was as independent as a lone wolf.

"Yeah, nice until you find spray paint on your locker," he responded with a half smile.

I grinned. "Right."

"Why did you enter this contest?" Paul asked suddenly, changing the subject.

"Um... because it looked like fun?" I lied awkwardly. Somehow I felt as though if I told him I aimed to buy a car, he'd gift one to me the next day.

His brows furrowed, like he wasn't satisfied by my answer, but regardless, he nodded. "Contests can be fun... more stressful though, I think."

"Nerve wracking," I corrected. "More nerve wracking."

Just then, Elliot trudged out of the audition room, his face as blank as always. Immediately, I was on my feet, bounding over to him. Before I could speak though, he held up his hand. "Went fine," he notified me.

I smiled brightly at him. "That's good!"

He grunted in response.

"Allie Heywood?"

My heart stopped momentarily as the woman by the door called out my name. Paul sent me a reassuring look when I glanced at him, panicked. You'll do awesome, he mouthed to me, hooking a thumbs up.

Elliot thumped my shoulder. "Go get 'em. I won't continue on if you don't."

"Okay," I mumbled, my heart thumping furiously in my chest. A thin sheet of sweat coated my hands as I entered the room behind the stern woman who'd called my name. Immediately a mahogany grand piano met my sight, hood propped up and keys white and shiny. Across from it, sat a tired and frustrated looking middle-aged man with graying hair. Our eyes met, and he didn't smile. My whole body tensed. Be nice, I told myself. Smile. After swallowing, I smiled nervously at him. To my relief, his face morphed into a friendly grin. "You're the first one to smile at me all day," he announced.

"Really?" I responded, my smile growing easier at his now amiable demeanor.

He nodded. "They're all stony-faced. Not a very good impression. Kids are too serious these days."

"Well this is an audition," I pointed out. "I'm taking it pretty seriously."

"Yeah, but at least you're friendly toward the person who's been watching auditions for the past three hours," he returned, his grin widening. "What are you going to play?"

A sheepish expression crossed his face. "Ah, you've probably heard it at least fifty times today. It's not very original..."

He raised an eyebrow. "Well, what is it?"

"Chopin's Nocturne in G minor," I told him, taking a seat at the piano bench.

"Let's hear it then," he urged.

Nodding, I took a deep breath to steady myself. Then, I focused on my hands instead of the sheet music in front of me. I'd already memorized it, so it was easier for me to play without the notes. Somehow, I managed to play through it perfectly. When my pinky landed on the last note, I held it down until the soft sound faded into nothing. Then, becoming nervous, I glanced up at the proctor to see his reaction.

If his impressed face was anything to go by, then my piece had gone swimmingly.

"Very good," he said finally, grinning at me. "You sure can bring originality to a overplayed piece."

"Um, thanks," I responded, scratching the back of my head. I couldn't figure out whether that was a compliment or dig.

His smile widened and crinkles appeared at the corner of his eyes. "That was a compliment."

I blinked, wondering if I said my thoughts out loud. "Thank you," I repeated anyway.

"You're very welcome. I have to commend you; you have a beautiful playing technique. It's much different than the other competitors who have come through already."

My eyebrows raised. "Really?"

"Really," he responded with a nod. "Have a good day."

Taking that as my sign of dismissal, I nodded again, and quickly hurried out the door, waving my hand over my shoulder. As I exited, the woman who called me in, called another name. Paul sprung to his feet immediately when he caught sight of me. "How'd it go?" he asked, eyes wide and curious.

I gave him a thumbs up.

"Nice," he commented with a grin.

"No surprise there," Elliot muttered, examining his fingernails.

"Aww, Elliot, you know you can just compliment me flat out, right?" I cooed, patting the top of his head.

He smacked my hand away, a light blush dusting his cheeks. "That wasn't a compliment."

"Sure it wasn't," Paul remarked with a grin.

"It wasn't!"

"We all know behind that tough guy exterior that you're a caring person," I told him, now squeezing his left shoulder.

Rolling his eyes, he batted my hand away again, and stood up, towering over me. "Whatever. I have to get to work. Are you working today?"

"Nah, I've got the day off."

"You work?"

I froze, my eyes widening. Shit. "Er... I just—"

Paul frowned. "You didn't tell me you got a job. You work with Elliot? Is that why you come home late so often when you say you're hanging out with Elliot?"

"Yeah," I sighed in defeat. No use trying to make up an excuse now. I shot Elliot a dirty look. He just shrugged.

"Allie, if you need something, you can just ask," Paul said, crossing his arms. "There's no need to go out and work..."

I pursed my lips at him. "I don't want to people one of those people who gets everything handed to me, Paul. Especially from someone who isn't family."

An offended expression crossed his face for a split second, then it went back to a frown. "Well, I can understand that... but why didn't you just tell me you had a job? I just assumed..."

"That I was hanging out with Kyle all the time?" I said dryly.

"No—"

"Paul."

Crossing his arms, he huffed. "Maybe."

Elliot snorted. "Jesus..."

"What?" Paul and I demanded.

Holding up his hands, he shook his head. "Nothing. You two just... Jesus," he repeated, running a hand over his face.

Confused, I narrowed my eyes at him, but said nothing more. I'd never know what was going on in his head. "Anyway, so I have a job. I'm not going in today though. I was supposed to go... er, never mind."

"Go where?" Paul prompted.

I glanced around the waiting room. There was still no sign of Kyle. He'd said he'd be here. "Just out later," I finally responded.

"With who?"

"No one."

"Kyle?" Paul guessed.

Even if I'd tried to deny it, my blush would've given it away. "But he's not even here, so..."

"He stood you up," Elliot stated flatly.

In my mind, I figured I would be hurt if someone ever stood me up. At this moment though, I felt like I couldn't care less. If Kyle was busy, he was busy. This was an audition. It wasn't like it was the real competition. There was no reason to go out and celebrate, really...

"What an ass," Paul commented.

"It's fine," I replied, jutting out my chin. "He's probably busy. I don't mind."

"Even so, if I made plans with you, I wouldn't ditch you without even telling you," he told me, an annoyed look on his face.

"He's not ditching me," I protested.

Paul grunted. "Close enough."

Elliot looked between us, his face torn between annoyance and amusement. Finally, it returned to his usual bored expression, and he shook his head. "Whatever. I'm leaving. Here's a great idea though. Since Mr. Tucker abandoned Allie, why don't you two go out?"

My heart skipped a beat. What was he implying? That Paul and I should go on a date?

"W-what?" Paul spluttered before I had a chance to speak up. "That's... not... I don't..."

His words caused a little pang in my chest. He hadn't even though about it for three seconds, and he was already spitting out words of rejection. I didn't think going on a date with me seemed like such an awful idea. In fact, I wouldn't mind...

I blinked. What was I thinking? This was Paul. My long time friend. My guardian. My teacher.

But Kyle's a teacher, an annoying voice pointed out.

I decided to ignore it.

"As friends," Elliot amended carefully.

"Oh," Paul breathed, visibly relaxing. "Yes, of course. I already planned on that..."

Elliot nodded. "Fine. I'm going to work." Without another word, he turned his back on us and left the waiting room.

I stared after him for a moment, before turning to Paul. The brunet's expression seemed trouble, and he avoided eye contact with me. Now annoyed, I turned away from him. "It's no big deal if we don't go out anywhere. I don't care."

"What?" He sounded surprised.

"If you have something else you want to do, that's fine."

"I don't," he said quickly. "No, we should get dinner."

"Dinner? This early?"

He furrowed his eyes in confusion for a moment before glancing at his watch. I smiled, liking how he was one out of maybe ten people who still wore watches. Most people solely relied on their cell phone. Myself included.

"Maybe not. Ice cream then?" he suggested.

"Ice cream then," I repeated, smiling at him.

Nodding, he stood up, tossing me his keys. "You drive."

I caught them easily, grinning broadly. "Always."

*

"Have you any idea what piece you want to play for the competition?" Paul inquired, picking a red gummy bear out of his mint ice cream and popping it into his mouth.

Shaking my head, I mixed my spoon around in my own ice cream. Like usual, I ordered chocolate soft serve with marshmallow and hot fudge. "Not really. I suck at choosing songs. Besides, it's not like I can play difficult ones—"

"Allie, save it," Paul interjected, rolling his eyes. "You and I both now how brilliantly you play."

"People say that—"

"Because it's true," he finished firmly. "I wish you weren't so unsure of your abilities."

I look up at him, frowning. "I'm not unsure."

"Well, you definitely aren't exactly confident either, Allie."

"I don't want to seem cocky," I told him quietly. "Or better than anyone else. Like a lot of these people are. It's not right."

He smiled at me. "And just by saying that, you're already better than them. Heck, Allie. I bet maybe ten people at our school actually have jobs because they want to. Or have them in general."

"Well, we are still in high school," I pointed out, having no idea why I felt like defending them.

"Yeah, but there are going to be a lot of them that are still going to have everything handed to them when they graduate. What do you think happens to music majors who can't do anything with them? And their parents have money?"

I shrugged, knowing he was implying they'd live with their parents. But I figured it wasn't like that for all of them. "Yeah, well, whatever. It's their life."

"I was thinking you could do Canon in C," Paul said, apparently changing the topic. "You know? Pachelbel?"

An awkward smile crossed my face. "Um..."

"You don't know it?" he asked, surprised.

"Nope," I responded, chewing on my bottom lip. "Should I?"

A quiet huff of laughter escaped his lips. "Yes. Okay. We'll do that then."

"Is it hard?"

"Define hard..."

"Paul."

He waved me off. "Doesn't matter. I'll be helping you."

"Isn't that cheating?" I accused, bringing a spoonful of ice cream to my lips. If I didn't eat it faster, it was going to melt.

"Why would it be? It's not like it's a test."

"But it's a competition..."

Paul raised an eyebrow. "Do you not want my help?"

"No, I do!" I told him quickly, shaking my head. "I just... are you sure it's not against the rules?"

He laughed, reaching across the table to pat my hand. "Allie, you're so cute. Worrying about rules while the other contestants are worried about who they're going to get to help them out..."

"And you'd help me out?"

"Allie, of course I would."

"Why?"

He tilted his head to the side. "What do you mean why?"

My eyes dropped lower, for a moment zeroing on his top lip, where a little ice cream mustache was forming. "You're literally one of the best pianists in America. Wouldn't you want to help someone who could actually—"

"What? Raise up to the top and meet me?" Paul interjected. "If anyone in our class can do it, it's you. Elliot too, if he tried. Maybe Olivia even."

"Then why help me?"

His green eyes brightened and he hummed. "Let's just say I'm... partial to you."

"Partial?" I echoed.

"Partial," he confirmed.

A grin was forming on my face. "Are you just saying that because you're afraid of my ex-gangster father?"

"Maybe," he said, his own grin starting to form. Then suddenly, it dropped, replaced by a panicked expression.

"What—"

"Put your head down," he whispered urgently, hunching forward and nearly pressing his face into his ice cream.

Bewildered, I did what he asked, putting my nose to the cool metal of the ice cream dish. "What are you...?"

Sending me a warning look, he mouthed something to me. I narrowed my eyes, mouthing a what back to him.

Olivia, he mouthed again.

Straightening out and peeking over my shoulder, I instantly recognized her blonde hair. I also noticed the young man standing next to her. The one I'd punched a few months back. What was his name again? Jack? Peter? As if the situation couldn't have gotten worse...

"Let's make a break for it," he muttered, pointing at the back door.

"What about—"

"I got it," he told me, slapping a twenty on the table. "Extreme tip included. On my count, run. Ready?"

I glanced over my shoulder, taking in the fact Olivia was scanning the menu on the wall and Peter had his attention on his phone. "Okay."

"One... two... go!"

Paul jumped to his feet, pushing himself out of the booth and toward the door. Caught off guard, it took me a few moments for me to stagger out of the booth. As I did so, Peter turned toward me and I quickly twisted my head away, bolting toward Paul, who was already out the door. We didn't stop running until we reached his car. Trying to act cool, he slid over the hood of it to the passenger side. Since I had the keys, I quickly unlocked the doors before sliding into the driver's seat.

"Go, go, go!" he urged.

"Wait, seat buckle," I responded, fumbling with my buckle before turning on the car.

"Hurry! Faster!"

I shifted the car into reverse, looking over my shoulder to make sure no cars were coming. "I have to make sure no one is coming—"

"Go!" he nearly shouted.

His loud voice shocked me into motion, and I slammed on the gas, sending us jolting backwards. I ripped the wheel to the right, hoping to God there were no cars coming so I didn't crash into them. Then I shifted into drive, and tore out into the street. Beside me, Paul was laughing loudly, leaning against the door. I glanced at him a few times, my heart pounding in my chest. The adrenaline was catching up to me.

"That was awesome," he gasped, still trying not to laugh. "Oh shit..."

My eyes flicked between him and the road. Laughing like he was, he looked younger, more handsome. It was hard to look away. "We could've hit a car..."

"Worth it," he wheezed. "I don't think I've had that much fun in a long time..."

"That was fun?"

"I love wild escapes."

Rolling my eyes, I turned my attention back to the road. But I couldn't keep the warm smile growing on my face off. This was a new side to Paul, a younger, less mature side.

And I liked it a lot. And planned to bring it out more often.

_________________

Phew! It's been awhile. I had extra time today, so I whipped this up! Sorry for my once a month updates, but school is hell. Only two more weeks!!! and two exam days. And them I'm done with high school FOREVER. And then I can write more. And I'm going to start a new story too- which I'm super excited for! :D Keep in touch! Don't forget about me! My absence won't be for much longer!