Status: Complete
Just a Feeling
09
After breakfast, Evan led Rowan to a building she hadn’t seen before, explaining that there were recording studios and sound-proof practice rooms, as well as instruments, in this building. It was all about music.
When he showed Rowan one of the recording studios, a grin lit her face. This was better than a dream.
She looked happily at Luke and Evan, and poked around, toying a little with the piano and adjusting various pieces of equipment. She’d never seen any of the high-tech microphones or recorders before, but she had read all about them, and was sure she would be able to figure it out quickly enough.
“You like music?” Luke asked. Rowan snapped out of her dreamlike trance, and remembered that he and Evan were there, both leaning against the wall by the door.
“Oh, yes,” was all she said, feeling suddenly self-conscious.
“What do you do? Sing? Play?”
“I… I write songs, and I play the piano. I sing too, sometimes,” Rowan confessed, blushing furiously. She silently reminded herself that she was going to make friends with these people, and that they were nice. He wasn’t going to think less of her just because she liked music, and if he did, she didn’t want to be his friend.
Luke lapsed into one of his too-familiar silences.
“I’d like to be by myself, if you don’t mind,” Rowan said hesitantly. She got the feeling that she wasn’t going to be allowed much alone time here. Whatever the Academy had asked them to do, it seemed like it was pathetically close to babysitting.
Luke and Evan exchanged glances. “I don’t really think we’re supposed to…” Evan hesitated.
“And why not?” Rowan demanded. She fought the surprising urge to stomp her foot and cross her arms.
“Well… I’m not allowed to say, Rowan. I’m sorry. All of this will be explained eventually- soon,” Evan corrected when he saw the look on Rowan’s face.
“I’m seventeen years old, and I’ve been handling myself quite well since I was seven. I think an hour alone isn’t too much to ask. I’m begging,” Rowan said, hating that she sounded so desperate. But really, was all of this necessary?
“That’s not unreasonable. We’ll be in the hallway,” Luke said, taking Evan by the arm and tugging him out of the room. Rowan shut the door behind them and locked it, the snitch of the lock bringing an indescribable feeling of satisfaction.
Rowan went over to the piano and sat down at the bench, running her fingers over the cool, smooth keys. She picked through a tune that she couldn’t remember ever learning or writing. It was simply imprinted on her memory, somehow, and in her heart.
Luke slid down the wall across from the door to the recording studio. Evan remained standing and glared down at Luke, who shrugged it off. Evan tended to take his job very, very seriously- unless Delaney was around. He was just mad that they were breaking protocol. But really, Luke thought, Rowan had made a good point. She’d been fine for ten years with no protection. What were the chances that she would be attacked in a single hour?
Ah, Rowan, he thought. She was a bundle of contradictions. From what he gathered, she was lonely, but slow to trust. Her behavior today completely befuddled him. He didn’t like it when he didn’t understand people, and prided himself on being able to figure a person out quickly. Rowan, though, she was different. He was having trouble figuring her out.
He heard a melody drifting, one that he recognized immediately. It was like an anthem to his people. He was amazed that Rowan knew it. She must remember it from before her parents were murdered. What else did she remember? Obviously not the most important parts.
When he showed Rowan one of the recording studios, a grin lit her face. This was better than a dream.
She looked happily at Luke and Evan, and poked around, toying a little with the piano and adjusting various pieces of equipment. She’d never seen any of the high-tech microphones or recorders before, but she had read all about them, and was sure she would be able to figure it out quickly enough.
“You like music?” Luke asked. Rowan snapped out of her dreamlike trance, and remembered that he and Evan were there, both leaning against the wall by the door.
“Oh, yes,” was all she said, feeling suddenly self-conscious.
“What do you do? Sing? Play?”
“I… I write songs, and I play the piano. I sing too, sometimes,” Rowan confessed, blushing furiously. She silently reminded herself that she was going to make friends with these people, and that they were nice. He wasn’t going to think less of her just because she liked music, and if he did, she didn’t want to be his friend.
Luke lapsed into one of his too-familiar silences.
“I’d like to be by myself, if you don’t mind,” Rowan said hesitantly. She got the feeling that she wasn’t going to be allowed much alone time here. Whatever the Academy had asked them to do, it seemed like it was pathetically close to babysitting.
Luke and Evan exchanged glances. “I don’t really think we’re supposed to…” Evan hesitated.
“And why not?” Rowan demanded. She fought the surprising urge to stomp her foot and cross her arms.
“Well… I’m not allowed to say, Rowan. I’m sorry. All of this will be explained eventually- soon,” Evan corrected when he saw the look on Rowan’s face.
“I’m seventeen years old, and I’ve been handling myself quite well since I was seven. I think an hour alone isn’t too much to ask. I’m begging,” Rowan said, hating that she sounded so desperate. But really, was all of this necessary?
“That’s not unreasonable. We’ll be in the hallway,” Luke said, taking Evan by the arm and tugging him out of the room. Rowan shut the door behind them and locked it, the snitch of the lock bringing an indescribable feeling of satisfaction.
Rowan went over to the piano and sat down at the bench, running her fingers over the cool, smooth keys. She picked through a tune that she couldn’t remember ever learning or writing. It was simply imprinted on her memory, somehow, and in her heart.
Luke slid down the wall across from the door to the recording studio. Evan remained standing and glared down at Luke, who shrugged it off. Evan tended to take his job very, very seriously- unless Delaney was around. He was just mad that they were breaking protocol. But really, Luke thought, Rowan had made a good point. She’d been fine for ten years with no protection. What were the chances that she would be attacked in a single hour?
Ah, Rowan, he thought. She was a bundle of contradictions. From what he gathered, she was lonely, but slow to trust. Her behavior today completely befuddled him. He didn’t like it when he didn’t understand people, and prided himself on being able to figure a person out quickly. Rowan, though, she was different. He was having trouble figuring her out.
He heard a melody drifting, one that he recognized immediately. It was like an anthem to his people. He was amazed that Rowan knew it. She must remember it from before her parents were murdered. What else did she remember? Obviously not the most important parts.