A Wish for Us

by Tillie Cole

To Roman, the beat of my heart.

“Music gives a soul to the universe, Wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, And life to everything.” —Plato

“We’ll have seminars every other week to discuss our compositions, both individual and the one done in pairs. Because the class is all about composition.” Lewis smiled and dropped his hard persona for a moment. “I intend to create artists in this room. You will all know of my personal demons.” I held my breath. Everybody knew about his issues, but I didn’t think he’d actually talk about them in class. “I tried my best to bring my music to the world, but it wasn’t my destiny.” He smiled again, an expression of peace washing over his face. “I’ve found happiness in helping others realize their talents. My fate, it seems, is teaching. Helping others find their meaning in this world. Their passion.”

Like it was a magnet, I made my way to the piano again. I reached into my pocket and pulled out his dog tags. I couldn’t bring myself to look at his name. Instead I put them on top of the piano and let them just be with me. Let him be with me.

The students rushed forward to fill out the times. I stayed in my seat, gathering my things slowly. Bonnie was down at the front with Bryce. “Come meet me for coffee one night, Bonn,” he said. For some reason a damn fire burst to life in my chest at him asking Bonnie out.

He caught her hand in his, and I just about combusted. She looked down at his fingers on hers, and I froze, wondering what she would do. “Come on, Bonn. I’ve been asking you since last year.”

I glanced down at the music and read it. My eyes scanned the notes. I didn’t say anything. “You hate it.” I lifted my eyes to Bonnie. I didn’t hate it. It was just…nothing special. The colors didn’t flow. Like if you saw a generic painting hanging on a wall somewhere. It was good but nothing life-changing.

I looked up at Bonnie and saw her pretty face. Saw her eyes drinking in the notes I’d written. And I knew that it was her that was challenging the walls I’d kept around myself for the past three years. And I had to let it go, or I wasn’t sure I’d be able to cope with what would spill out.

“What I mean is, I don’t think you’d be able to stop yourself from composing.” He tapped his head. “As much as we want it to, this never switches off.” He clasped his hands on the tabletop. “Even when I was at my most messed up, with the drink, the drugs, I still composed.” He smiled, but there was nothing happy or humorous about it. Instead it looked sad. It looked like I felt inside. “I came out of rehab with an entire symphony.” He lost his fake smile. “Even if something makes you hate music, whatever it is can often be the catalyst for your next great work.”

It was funny. I didn’t know if it was being with Lewis, but in that moment I thought of my father and how me being this way toward someone would have broken his heart. He didn’t raise me this way. “Manners cost nothing, son. Always be gracious with those who want to help.”

“True.” Easton clinked my Corona with his. He sighed. “Then she fell in love with piano. And that was it.” He clicked his finger and thumb. “She was hooked. Never went anywhere without her little keyboard.” He huffed a laugh. “Gave me a headache for about two years before she got good enough that I could actually tolerate her playing. Then it was recital after recital.” His smile faded. He went quiet. Too quiet. The silence made me uneasy. “She’s good people. She’s my sister. But she’s more than that. She’s my best friend. Damn, she’s my moral compass. She keeps me in line.” He downed the rest of his Corona and shoved the empty bottle aside. “She’s the better of the two of us. Don’t think anyone doubts that. I’d be lost without her.”

“It’s what you were born to do, Cromwell. It’s who you were born to be. You have more talent in your little finger than anyone I’ve ever known. Including myself.”

Mama pulled into the driveway, and in ten minutes I was in my room. I was exhausted. My bed called my name, but I found myself sitting at my electric piano. The sheet of music Cromwell had amended was on the stand. I plugged in my headphones and placed my hands on the keys. And just as I’d been doing all week, I followed the messily drawn notes. And just as with every time, my chest filled with the most amazing feeling of beauty. My hands danced over the keys as if they had no other choice but to put sound to the pen marks Cromwell had so easily jotted down.

I laughed. “You’re not exactly the picture of relaxation, Buddha.” Cromwell glanced at me from the side of his eye. I thought I saw his lip twitch. But it was too quick to confirm if it’d actually happened.

I closed my eyes and began. I swallowed when I realized I was playing the bars Cromwell had written. When I stopped, I took a deep breath then met his gaze. His black eyebrows were pulled down in confusion. Then it dawned on me… “You just play what’s in your heart, don’t you? You don’t need music? You simply just…play.”

His hands ghosted over the keys. I watched his tattooed fingers. The inked skulls and the numbers were a stark contrast to the purity of the keys. Yet they meshed seamlessly like they were long-lost soulmates.

It wasn’t intentional. My hand lifted and landed on his bare shoulder, a familial crest painted in bright colors on his olive skin. It was instinctive. It was the need to help this closed-off boy and show him without words or explanation that I understood.

Cromwell swayed more deeply, his body leaning back and forward as he became one with the piano. There was no beginning or end to him and the music. I was sure I caught a glimpse of his soul.

“Cromwell,” I whispered to the silent room. Then I waited for my heart to calm down so I could push him from my mind. It was dark before I left. And like a forever raging sea, my heart never calmed.

“It was Cromwell. He wanted to spin. None of us wanted to miss his new set. He came back to the dorms earlier tonight ready to party, drunk as hell. East sent out the word and we all came. It’s been lit!” At the mention of Cromwell’s name, my breathing stuttered. He’d gotten drunk again. No doubt on the whiskey I’d seen him consume over and over again. “Bonn? You there?”

I gritted my teeth, then snapped my head to the side and looked through the window. Something resembling a stone in my chest dropped when I saw Bonnie at her usual table with Bryce. Her hair was down and curled, hanging halfway down her back. I’d never seen her hair down. And she looked…I couldn’t look away.

She must have seen me staring. She leaned forward, voice low. “Cromwell. Please,” she begged. “Stop, whatever this is.” Her eyes fell. “This constant back and forth…I can’t do it anymore. You have your life and I have mine. And that’s okay.” “You had me dropped as your partner,” I said, and she blinked in shock.

You heard it, I wanted to say to her. No one else has ever heard it, but you did. And you’ve walked away. You’ve let me push you away…

“You’ve been given a gift, Cromwell. A beautiful gift. And when you let your walls down, it’s pure and beautiful…” Her face filled with sympathy. “But you fight so hard. Fight against letting anyone in.” She shook her head. “You run, Cromwell. You run from music. And you ran from me because I heard it.” She took a sip from the glass of water beside her.

“Cromwell, what—?” she went to say. But before she could, my lips smashed onto hers. The minute I tasted her on my tongue, my heart started slamming in my chest. A surprised sound fell from her mouth and I swallowed it down. My chest flattened against her, and I felt the warmth of her body as it meshed with mine.

“You were cruel tonight, Cromwell Dean. You were cold and cruel and unkind…”

Some are not meant for this life for too long. A fleeting glimpse, a silent birdsong. Souls too pure, they burn out too bright, Bodies so fragile, losing the fight. Hearts lose their beats, rhythms too slow, Angels they come, it’s time to go. Lift from this place, to the heavens and skies, Smothered in peace, where nobody dies. Hope left behind in the ones they have loved, No longer caged, now wings of a dove. Wings, white as snow, sprout from my heart. Wings, spreading wide, now to depart. Tears in my eyes, I give one last glance. I lived, and I loved, and danced life’s sweet dance…

Her mouth dropped open, and the excitement I saw the night I played the piano with her next to me flared in her eyes. “Synesthesia,” she whispered, and I heard the awe in her voice. “You’re a synesthete.” She didn’t put it to me as a question. Bonnie stepped closer, and I wanted to run again. Because it was all on me this time. But I fought it. I refused to run from her again. I blew out a breath. I’d told her. She hadn’t forced me to say it. She’d just played, somehow got beneath my walls, and the truth came pouring out.

“I remembered you. I have no memory of that night at all, yet I remembered meeting you. The boy with synesthesia and the ability to play anything he picked up.” He pointed at me with his hands steepled. “The boy who, by ten years old, could compose masterpieces.”

Yet I couldn’t deny that being on the receiving end of his small smile made my heart sing.

“I do,” East said with a mouthful of cake. He swallowed then met my eyes. “I just don’t want him anywhere near you.” His hand covered mine and his voice lowered. “You’ve been through enough, Bonn. A guy like that would chew you up and spit you out. And after everything you’ve been through…” He shook his head. “You deserve more.” I nearly cried. Tears pricked my eyes, not just because of his words, or his protective nature. But because if he knew…if he knew what was happening to me…

“You’re not at the bar tonight, or at the Barn? Won’t all your adoring fans—and by fans I mean girls—miss you?” “I’m sure they’ll survive,” he said dryly. It only made me smile wider. Cromwell pulled out onto the freeway. I frowned, wondering where we were going. “Can I put your radio on?” I asked.

Cromwell walked slowly beside me. “Do I get any clue yet as to what we’re doing here at the museum after hours?” I pulled on his arm. “You’re not gonna break us in, are you?” Cromwell’s dimple popped again. A single dimple on his left cheek. The sight pulled at my heart. “It’s the tattoos, isn’t it?” he said. I fought a laugh. “The piercings, really.” As if on cue, Cromwell rolled his tongue and his tongue ring came between his teeth. My face set on fire when I remembered how it had danced so close to mine. I hadn’t kissed him enough yet to feel its full effect.

Cromwell kissed me. He kissed me and kissed me in soft, slow kisses, until his tongue pushed against the seams and slid into my mouth. He groaned as his tongue met mine. He was everywhere. I felt him everywhere, my body and senses swept away by the hurricane that was Cromwell Dean.

As I pulled away, I let my forehead fall to his. I breathed him in, committing every second to memory. I lifted my head and met his eyes. A burning question was in my mind. “What did it look like to you?” I asked. “My song. The colors.” Cromwell breathed in, then, eyes bright, said, “It illuminated the room.” I sagged against him, resting my head on his chest, my arms around his waist. “It illuminated the room.”

“I like you,” he said, and as the sweetly accented words hit my ear, I wanted to move across the seat and wrap my arms around him. I didn’t know Cromwell well, but I knew he didn’t say those words easily. He lived behind high walls, yet with me, they had started to lower. I didn’t want to be the cause of them growing back high. In my heart I wanted to be the one to smash them until he was free. But I couldn’t. It just wasn’t fair. A sudden wave of anger hit me. At the unfairness. That I couldn’t just be here right now, enjoying the moment, falling into his arms. “Bonnie?” I wanted to sob when my name left his lips. He’d never called me Bonnie before. “I like you too.” I looked into his blue eyes. I owed him that much. “But it’s more complicated than that. I shouldn’t have let it get this far. It isn’t fair. I’m so sorry…” The feel of his hand slipping into mine silenced me. “Come with me to Charleston tomorrow night.” “What?” “I’m playing at a club.” He held my hand tighter. “I want you to come.” “Why?” “To see…” He sighed. “To see me play my new mixes. To stand beside me and see how it is. To make you understand. It’s only an hour away.”

He turned and walked off. I wasn’t sure I could move. Then, just before he got into his truck, I said, “Cromwell?” He looked up. I could feel my cheeks burning before I even spoke. “What color is my voice?” Cromwell stared at me, eyes full of some kind of light I couldn’t decipher. That small, beautiful smile pulled on his lips again, and he said, “Violet blue.” I tried to breathe. I really did. I tried to move. Violet blue. Cromwell got in his truck and pulled away. A memory from last week came to my mind. “Cromwell?” I asked, and he turned my way. “What’s your favorite? Your favorite color to see?” “Violet blue,” he said in an instant. Violet blue. His favorite color to see…and also the sound of my voice.

If my failing heart hadn’t let him in before, it did just then.

“You follow the emotion,” she said knowingly. “What you told me last night.” “Yeah.” I closed my laptop and looked up at Bonnie. Her eyes were already on me. Then they dropped to my lips. “Farraday.” I inched closer and pressed my forehead to hers. “If you don’t want me to take your mouth right now, I’d stop looking at me like that.” “Like what?” she whispered, cheeks flushed. “Like you want to feel my tongue ring in your mouth again.”

The words of which she’d had no idea I’d recorded. “Some are not meant for this life for too long.” I threaded the opening verse over the beats. The volume was quiet, a crescendo building the second verse. “A fleeting glimpse, a silent birdsong…” Drums built, violins soft in the background. Then, the drum beat in double time, her voice gaining volume, until I smashed it, bringing the song to its maximum beat, Bonnie’s soft voice pushed to the highest volume, her violet-blue words coating every inch of the room…

Bonnie didn’t laugh though. Instead she shifted beside me and laid her head on my shoulder. I wasn’t sure if she was asleep, but when I looked at her in my rearview mirror, she was staring straight forward. I narrowed my eyes, wondering what the hell was wrong. But then she wrapped her arm around mine and held on.

“I want to,” she whispered. “I want you.” My hands were tight on the steering wheel all the way to my parking spot outside my dorm. When I killed the engine, Bonnie didn’t move. I put my hand under her chin and forced her to look up. I cupped her cheeks. “You don’t have to do this,” I said. A small, shy smile pulled on her lips. Tears filled her eyes.

“I want it, Cromwell. I want this.” She laughed. “I never want this night to end.” She lowered her eyes. “Please don’t make me beg.” “You don’t need to beg.” I shook my head. “I want it too. So bad.”

“I tried to fight it, but you never left. And my heart didn’t let me turn away.” Her fingers traveled over my chest and lingered over my heart. Her eyes closed briefly, like she was counting its beat.

She smiled at me. It was a real smile. “More than.” She took my hand in hers and played with my fingers. “I never thought I’d ever have this moment.” She smiled sadly. “And with someone who understands.” “Understands what?” “What it’s like to have been born with a song in our hearts.” I swallowed, my stomach rolling at her words. Her grip tightened on my hand, and a nervous expression flashed across her face.

Bonnie lost her smile. “I believe that music should tell a story. I believe that in the notes and melodies there should be some kind of meaning. Music should take you on a journey, crafted by the creator’s heart.” She kissed my lips. “Your music that night…there was no story to me. No meaning.” My stomach fell, but it rose again when she said, “I don’t think that anymore. I’ve seen you play. Heard the music you can create. It’s all soul, Cromwell. The things I’ve heard you play on the piano, they were full of meaning. So much so that it made my heart cry.” Her eyes shimmered. “Never doubt your talent, Cromwell. I see it clearly now.” “It’s you,” I admitted. Bonnie stilled. “You were right. I’d lost my way. My music…it didn’t have purpose. There was no story. They were just the colors that made me feel the least.” I wanted to tell her why. But even now, I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I rubbed a strand of her hair between my fingers. “Since you…it’s felt different. Music. It’s you, Farraday. You’ve made it different.” I laughed to myself. What I was going to say was cheesy as hell. But it was true. “I’m inspired.” She sucked in a breath. “You inspire me.”

Bonnie shook her head sadly. She stepped forward until she was in front of me. She took my hand and brought it to her chest, right over where her heart was. “Cromwell, my heart is literally broken.” Her wet lashes left marks on the top of her cheeks as she closed her eyes. “I have heart failure, Cromwell.” She smiled sadly. Devastatingly. “My heart is dying.” It was as if a strong wind blew into the room. I couldn’t breathe. My chest pulled tight, so tight that I felt it ripping at my muscles. “My heart is dying…” “No,” I said, my voice sounding hoarse and graveled. “No…” I gripped Bonnie’s hand and pulled her to me.

“But there’s not. My heart is too weak to keep going.” She sniffed and wiped at her cheeks with her free hand. “I didn’t plan for you.” Her trembling hand fell on my cheek. Her hand was cold. “I knew I could never get close to someone. It wouldn’t be fair. To either of us.” She smiled at me, a devastated, watery smile. “But your music made me see you, Cromwell. It called me to you. The boy who hears color.” Her head fell to my chest. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve had the strength to walk away. But with you…I just couldn’t.”

Bonnie ran her hand through my hair. It was becoming my favorite thing she did. “I’m on the transplant list, Cromwell. That’s all there is left to do. Right now I’m nowhere near the top.” A steely determination set in her brown eyes. “But I’m determined to get that heart. I’ve fought for years. And I am not giving up now.” She took my hand in hers and held on tightly. Her bottom lip shook. “I don’t want to die, Cromwell. I have too much to live for.”

“I would have lived my whole life trying to achieve even a tenth of the talent you have, Cromwell. It’s why I was so hard on you. Because of the gift you have.” Her eyes dropped. “And I think I would have spent my whole life waiting for a boy to treat me as you have recently.” She swallowed. “Last night…it was everything I could have wished for.” “Bonnie,” I whispered. “But you can’t be with me for this next part, Cromwell.” I shook my head. “Shh,” Bonnie said. “I should never have let it get that far. But even though it is failing, losing strength, my heart latched itself to yours, and I had to know what it was like. To be with you.” She sniffed and a tear fell. “You made me feel so cherished.”