Cobblestone

It's not like you to say sorry
I was waiting on a different story
This time I'm mistaken
for handing you a heart worth breaking

I switch the song and turn the music up, having it pump through my ears. I walk under a streetlight, stopping under the pool of light.

Not for dramatic affect. It's so I can cross the road. Although, I suppose it would be rather dramatic to see a shadow peel away from the dark and stand under a street light in the form of a boy.

A boy who looks more at home in the shadows, hiding his black hair and grey eyes under the hood of his jacket just to remain in as much of a shadow possibly.

Yep, that would be me. Xander Coal.

Well, Alexander, but I haven't been called that in. . . A while. Not since I left home. And no, I didn't run away.

'You're old enough to care for yourself. To pay your way. To play guitar. To leave this place behind you. Go to collage!' I'm not really sure if it was a send off or a kick off.

I start across the cobblestone road, leaving the pool of light and reentering the darkness of the night. I smirk as I hop back on to the sidewalk on the other side. Musicians seem to have such poetic minds.

The guitar case that's slung over my shoulder slips off and starts to fall to the ground. I swing around and grab it awkwardly.

My eyes dart around the dark street. I stand up quick and sling the shoulder strap back on. I walk along the sidewalk, the music still playing in my ears.

My hands get cold, even though they're shoved in the pockets of my hoodie. Winter can be harsh here in the north, especially when I'm living in a less than ideal place.

That place being an ill-heated monstrosity of a dorm room. My room mates ran out on me. They had an offer that got them out of the hell-hole I call home.

I don’t blame them. I get out of there as often as possible, playing guitar at as many places as will take me.

Speaking of which . . . I pull the door open to the coffee shop. I'm greeted with the warmth first, then the smell of cream and coffee.

I readjust the guitar and walk over to the counter. The cashier raises his eyebrow at my black clothes and worn out guitar case. I stare right back at him in his apron and little hat. Punk. You're weird looking too.

"Well? Can I help you?" He says like it's the last thing he wants to say.

"Yeah, I was hired by the manager." I say, "Can I see him?"

The guy nods and points to the other employee, a girl, to take over as he goes to get the boss. The girl gives me a little half smile and I return it.

After a few minutes, I speak with the manager and start to set up on the little wooden stage. The act before me was three keyboardists, one of which stayed behind. I don’t give it much attention, till she touches me on the shoulder.

I’m not really use to people sneaking up on me, so the surprise makes me jump. I turn around and look at her. She can’t be much younger than me, maybe a year or two. She’s trying not to laugh, and biting her lip to keep it in.

Her clear, bright blue eyes look up at me, reflecting my pale gray ones. That and the way her brown hair falls in gentle curl around her face, it makes her look . . . stunning.

“Hello? Earth to musician. You there?”

I snap back into focus as she waves her hand in front of my face. She shakes her head, a little smirk on her face.

“You’re one strange kid.” She says, putting her hands on her hips. “Got a name?”

I nod.

“Are you going to tell me?” That smirk of her grows a little.

“Oh, sorry.” I hold out my hand and she takes it. “I’m Xander, and you are?”

“Kaydence. But please,” She says,” For the love of all things good, call me Kay.”

She releases from the handshake, her fingers slipping from mine. “You want a cup of coffee before we play?”

“Sure.” I put the guitar back into the case and step off the stage after her. “Wait. We play? Together?”

“Yep. The boss hired both of us. Didn’t he tell you?” Kay asks, stepping up to the counter.

Nope, the little two-faced, yellow-bellied, back-stabbing no good rotten-

“Xander! You’re spacing out again.” Kay stops my mental insult train.

I look up at her and smile out of embarrassment. Usually I’m very aware of my surroundings, and I never space out this much. What is wrong with me?

I give my order for the coffee and start to pull out the cash for it. Kay stops my hand before it gets all the way out of my pocket. She kinda glares at me, so I back off trying to pay.

We get the coffee and go sit down on the stage. We go through pretty casual talk. Kay’s been playing the keyboard for about nine years, started when she was ten.Making her nineteen, the same age as me. She came here for college and has been making enough money to keep a house with a bunch of other musicians.

“Wish I didn’t though,” She leans back on her hands, “They smell.”

She wrinkles up her nose and I laugh softly with her. After a while the coffee gets cold, and we decide we should start our performance. Kay snags my cup from me and goes to throw it away. I pull my guitar out of my case, and set the music on the stand in front of me.

Kay comes back and I tune up my guitar. She pulls out her sheet music, and we check that it’s all in the right order together. Then the music starts.

It starts slow, getting a feel for the atmosphere. Slowly, it gets a handle on being in an unplanned duet. Then it becomes steady, going through the songs and filling the air.

I look up at Kaydence, half way through, and she catches my eye. She smiles and I return it. Something clicks, somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind, I don’t know how to say it.

At the moment the music swells, like a huge wave. It rushes through the air, leaving the confines of sheet music. The music of guitar and keyboard flow together, twisting and contorting, becoming one.

The last breath of music leaves the air, circling and fluttering to a halt like a leaf in the wind. I study my hand, and find them to be shaking. I look up at Kay, seeing her fingers quivering over the keys too.

Her pale blue eyes flash up to me, catching mine instantly. She stands up and walks off stage, beckoning me to follow. Kay and I have another cup of coffee, and talk.

We talk a lot.