Im sorry I havent been updating lately. I have a lot of stuff going on all at the same time, and Im also kinda loosign intrest in the story. I'll try and finish it, just for you all. Chapter seven, enjoy!
Chapter seven: Out of my league
"67 of homes with a piano never use it." Edward says a smile evident in his voice.
"Yes, but 75 of all statistics are made up." I walk over and lean against the baby grand, watching his white fingers fly over the keys, like a true artist. Memories of my brother sitting in the same position crawl out from the deep dark depths of my mind; I vaguely wonder why I forgot he used to play the piano. My hand develops a mind of its own and my fingers play over the scar on my forehead. Oh yeah…
"What did your brother throw you into this thing when you bugged him about it?" Edward asks. I keep forgetting he can read my mind.
"Eh, yeah something like that. What are you playing?" I ask, closing my eyes and letting the music flow over me. I smile at the beautiful melody.
"Just something I wrote."
My jaw drops. Attractive, smart and a composer? Is there anything this guy can't to? I sit on the bench next to him and listen as he finishes. He puts his hands in his lap and turns to me.
"Any requests?" He asks, smiling crookedly. An imperfection that isn't really an imperfection at all.
"Do you know 'Out of my League' by Stephen Speaks?" I ask, swinging my legs. I don't know why I suggested that song. Just hearing it on the CD makes me swoon. I just hope I don't pass out or jump him or something.
He nods and hits the first chord, my stomach floats the same way it always does whenever I hear this song. After about eight measures, Edward does something I don't expect, he begins singing along.
It's her hair and her eyes today
that just simply take me away
and the feeling that I 'm falling further in love
makes me shiver, but in a good way…
His singing voice is just as, if not more, beautiful than his speaking voice. I find myself staring at him, my mouth opened wide enough to catch butterflies. Goosebumps form on the back of my neck and arms.
All the times I have sat and stared
as she thoughtfully thumbs through her hair
as she purses her lips
bats her eyes
and she plays with me
sitting there, slack-jawed and nothing to say
He smiles at me and I shut my mouth. A little embarrassed, but I continue to gawk at him.
Cos I love her with all that I am
and my voice shakes
along with my hands
His voice cracks, but he keeps going, I wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't turned so red. I'm sure he's dreaming of Bella. That poor sick thing, I hope she gets better soon.
Cos she's all that I see and she's all that I need
and I 'm out of my league once again
I wish he were singing this about me… although I'm not really out of his league…Nether is Bella. I don't think anyone is out of Edward Cullen's "league." Does he even have a league? I bet he's above all sports metaphors for love. Okay, time for me to shut up.
It's a masterful melody
when she calls out my name to me
as the world spins around her
she laughs, rolls her eyes
and I feel like I 'm falling
but it's not surprise
Cos I love her with all that I am
and my voice shakes
along with my hands
I wish Mike could play piano.
Cos it's frightening to be
swimming in this strange sea
but I 'd rather be here than on land
Yes, she's all that I see
and she's all that I need
and I 'm out of my league once again
The last note rings through the room. He turns to me, obviously proud of the way his playing enchanted me. I'm still in awe.
"So?" he teases.
"I…Uh… Um… wow, you're just… just a little bit amazing." I'm having trouble remembering how to speak. He laughs. His eyes travel around the room and fall on the small silver flute, perched precariously on a glass coffee table. He turns back to me, raising an eyebrow.
"You play?" he asks.
I nod mutely, the sound of his angelic voice still resonating in my ears, making me unusually nervous. Maybe no one is out of his league, but he's way out of everyone's.
The silence between us is horribly uncomfortable, until Edward's stomach speaks in a muted gurgle. I smile.
"Go take a shower and I'll make you something to eat." I say, getting off the bench and disassembling my flute so I will have an excuse not to play it later.
I hear the water begin to run. I glance at the ceiling of the kitchen, hoping he has enough cense not to use my shampoo. We can't have two people in the same house smelling like orchid infused coconut.
I make Edward one of the few things that I can; a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a glass of milk. I look at the white liquid in disgust and it glares back at me. I challenge it to a staring contest, telling the demon-drink that if I lose, which I won't, I will drink an entire glass without complaining. The phone rings suddenly, making me lose my concentration and ultimately, my staring contest. Fuck, I hate my life. I leave the food on the table and answer the phone. Glancing at the milk over my shoulder to make sure it's not plotting anything.
"Hello?"
"Hey!" Mike's happy voice never fails to make me smile.
"What's up?" I ask fiddling with the necklace he gave me.
"Well, I was thinking, since we missed our date the other day. Would you like to go to dinner tonight instead?"
I bite my lip. Of course I want to go. But what would I do with Edward? And what about my mother?
"Oh, Mike. I really want to," I pause. How can I tell him that I'm afraid my mom is going to find out that there's a boy sleeping in my bed and he's not you? Although I'm not all that sure that she would be very happy with me even if it was you.
"But?" his voice falls at least an octave.
"Well, I think I have something tonight, I'm just not so sure what it is. You know my mom; she won't tell me what's going on until the last minute." A reasonable excuse. As wonderful as my mother is, she's a bit scatterbrained.
He buys it! "Well, call me back and tell me what the plan is okay?"
"I will," I smile. Cupping my hand around the receiver I whisper, "And I love you."
"I love you too." He laughs. "Good bye."
The phone clicks and the line goes dead.