Under a gray, dim sky, I returned to the university in the morning.
Alisha was the first person I saw. She was coming out of the administration building, looking not unlike my mother after a day in a government office.
“Will,” she said. “What are you doing here?”
“I just came to say goodbye to everyone.”
“Of course, yes. They’ll be packing up in the dorm.” She sat on a bench. “What a great two weeks.”
“For sure,” I said, sitting next to her.
“And I understand you’re going to New York to audition at Juilliard?”
“I am,” I said.
“You’ll do great, Will,” Alisha said.
The call had come in the night before. Mr. Cain, one of the administrative people who had been at the concert, had phoned before I’d even gotten home. My father had told him we’d be there, even though they wanted me to audition the very next week.
“I’m pretty lucky to have the kind of parents who will drop everything and take me to New York.”
“You are. Juilliard is paying for the trip as well, I hear?”
“Yeah.”
“They really want you there, Will. They see your talent. They see the type of musician you could become. It’s so exciting.” She squeezed my hand and shook it.
“Thank you,” I said. “For everything.”
“I did nothing. It was my father.” Her eyes turned to the sky. “He hasn’t been well. Have you noticed?”
“A little.”
“He’s going in for more tests today. I’m taking him this afternoon. It might be nothing, but you never know.”
“I’ll see him tomorrow,” I said.
“Hopefully.” She let go of my hand and patted my knees. “You take care of yourself. Practice for the audition. Get excited about this, Will. It’s the greatest opportunity you can imagine.”
I saw Jon coming out of the dorm and stood up. I didn’t want him to leave before I said goodbye. “I have to run,” I said to Alisha.
“Of course. Come by tomorrow if you can. I’m sure Dad will be fine.”
I darted across the road to the dorm just as a car pulled up. “Jon!” I yelled. I stumbled on the curb and kind of scrambled toward him.
“Hulk-Aid, slow down.”
The trunk of the car opened. I could see a man in the driver’s seat—Jon’s dad, I assumed—talking on his cell phone.
“So, you’re leaving?” I asked Jon.
“Um, yeah, it’s over.”
I nodded a million times, then picked up one of his bags. “And…Olivia?”
“We’re going to facebook. But honestly, she’s an older woman. I don’t stand that much of a chance.”
“You tried,” I said.
“Tried? I guess you didn’t notice us totally making out on the dance floor last night.” He winked at me.
“I didn’t notice that.”
“That’s because it never happened,” Jon said, laughing. “Take it easy, Will. I hope you get whatever it is you want.”
“Same to you,” I said.
I threw his bag into the trunk.
“Yeah, well, I’m going to need to figure out what that is first,” he said. He put his hand out and we did an exaggerated handshake before he slipped into the car. “Dani’s still up there, if you want to say goodbye. Olivia lives in Ottawa, so I think she’s already gone.”
“I’ll go say ’bye.” I gave the hood of the car a quick triple thump, then turned before I had to watch it drive away.
I settled down on a bench in front of the dorm and watched the door, hoping there wasn’t some other exit Dani could leave by. I’d been there about fifteen minutes when Cathy stepped out.
When she saw me, she put down her suitcase and sniffed as though there was a bad smell in the area. “Don’t you live here?” she said.
“Yeah.”
“And so you just hang around at the university?”
“No, I’m just saying goodbye to some people.” I waited a moment. I was about to ask her why she had to be so cruel and petty. But I already knew the answer. She saw everyone as competition. People whom she had to be better than. Maybe it was because I’d never been a part of the whole classical-music crowd in Ottawa, or anywhere else, but viewing other musicians as my competition had never crossed my mind. I couldn’t see what good it would do anyone. It seemed to have left Cathy feeling bitter.
“So I guess you are special after all,” she said.
“I don’t think so.”
“Yeah, do the humble thing. That kills people.” She picked her suitcase back up and started off down the ramp.
“Hey, Cathy,” I said.
“Yeah?”
“Good luck with everything.” For a second, I thought she was going to respond. Instead, she carried on down the ramp without another word.
“What are you doing here?” I turned back from watching Cathy’s slow descent to find Dani beside me.
“Oh, I came to say goodbye to everyone.”
“Including Cathy?”
“We traded pleasantries.”
“Oh, did you?”
“Something like that.” I stood and took her bag from her.
“I didn’t want to leave my room,” she said. “but they kicked us out to clean the place.”
It was just after ten in the morning. “Want to hang out?”
“Sure,” she said, looping her arm in mine.
We left her luggage in the administration building, and instead of turning toward the market, we walked over the Laurier Avenue Bridge and down to the canal. Boats slowly moved along the waterway, along with a class of stand-up paddle boarders who bounced, jittered and held on for dear life against every wave.
We stopped to look up at the National Arts Centre as we passed. “You’ll play in there one day,” Dani said.
“I doubt that.”
“I don’t. Not for a minute.”
“What about you?” I said. “Are you going to keep playing?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I mean, for myself. I don’t have what it takes to make it.”
“Sure you—”
“I don’t. I might have thought I did before, but after hearing you and some of the other people these last two weeks, I know I don’t. I love playing though. That’s enough.”
We walked along the pathway, dodging runners and cyclists. Eventually we stopped at the hot-dog stand Mr. Jorgensen and I always went to. I had just enough to buy two dogs and a bag of fries.
“Not quite up to the dinner you bought us, but…” I said.
We sat on the grass and let the sun wash over us. There was just enough of a breeze to cool us off. “So, I’m going to New York,” I said. “To audition for Juilliard.”
Dani punched me on the arm. “Shut up.”
“Yeah.”
“That is awesome. See, that’s what I mean. You have it. Juilliard is not knocking down my door.”
“And that’s okay, right?”
“Sure. I had dreams. But dreams change. Will, I am so happy for you.”
“I still have to get in,” I said.
“You will.” She shook her head in disbelief. “What a ride you’re getting on.”
“So…thanks,” I said.
“For what?”
“For helping me. Like, with my nerves.”
“Nerves,” she said, tossing the hot-dog wrapper into a garbage can. “They can’t hold you back.” She punched me again and laughed. “I doubt anything can.”