Sebastian missed the last week and a half of class, probably because we each had to play something on our instrument of choice as part of our final grade. I was glad to not have the pressure of him staring at me while I performed. I’d written an intricate guitar piece that had challenged my skill beyond anything I’d ever done, and I’d been uncharacteristically nervous about playing it, knowing he’d be there to see me screw up my own music.
But he wasn’t. He simply stopped showing. Mr. Hyde said nothing, and when Sierra, her cinnamon gum flashing between her teeth, asked him if there was anything wrong with Sebastian—I couldn’t tell if she was curious, worried, or just insensitive—Mr. Hyde shook his head and simply said, “He isn’t testing in this class.”
So that was that. My ordeal with Sebastian was over.
Except that it wasn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about him, about how he’d made Music Theory III something barely tolerable for a whole semester, a class I really loved otherwise. Mr. Hyde was a great teacher, a guy who could make something as potentially mundane as music theory interesting. He was my favorite professor in the music program and I’d had him for other courses, too. The more I thought about the angst Sebastian had caused me, the more resentment I felt toward him. And now with him gone, as though he’d simply vanished into thin air, I felt cheated, like he’d taken something irreplaceable from me.
“Honestly, Ani, I think what bugs me the most about it is that I was sure we’d eventually talk. At least an end-of-the-year group hug thing before everyone went their separate ways, you know? But he was there, staring at me, scrutinizing me, making me feel intimidated and uncomfortable and… and then he wasn’t. The end. The fat lady sang. The cow jumped over the moon. The king has left the building.”
I could hear her parents downstairs in the kitchen, singing along to a Puccini aria.
“O mio babbino caro,” Ani stated, noticing the tilt of my head as I listened. But I knew the song. I’d heard it a zillion times emanating up the stairs from the Tomlin kitchen before dinner. It was tradition in this house. When dinner was being cooked, opera was being sung. And if you wanted to eat said dinner, you had to listen to said opera. Since Giacomo Puccini was their favorite composer of all times, it didn’t take me long to recognize his style.
We sat in silence for a few more moments, waiting for the laughter that always broke out when one of her parents tried to hit the high notes and failed. It came as expected and we returned to our conversation.
“I don’t get it. I just don’t get it,” I reiterated. “Why was it so important to him to make my life miserable without ever explaining? Doesn’t that kind of defeat the purpose of tormenting someone? At least if I knew what his reasons for hating me were, I’d be able to either brush him off or fix it, if it was something legitimately wrong. But not knowing why he targeted me just leaves the whole thing unresolved.” I’d even thought about talking to Mr. Hyde about it at one point, considered mentioning the word “harassment,” but something held me back. I’d been really unsettled about the way he’d looked when he’d swept into the foyer in such a rush that night in March, only to find me waiting for him. Haunted? Defeated? I couldn’t put my finger on it, but he’d definitely been suffering in some way.
Ani frowned, still resistant to the idea that Sebastian had been intentionally hurtful. “I’ve seen how he watches you on stage, T-Bird. If you hadn’t told me all this stuff, I would have thought he was totally crushing on you.”
“Well, it’s kind of a moot observation, isn’t it? It’s not like he didn’t have plenty of chances to approach me. And since I haven’t seen him since the last day he came to class, I just have to let it rest and try to get over this stupid little self-doubt monster he created in me. Tell myself he was just a jerk, that’s all. He’s consumed enough of my time anyway, and I have a full plate to deal with without worrying about what Sebastian Jeffries thinks of me.”
School was out, Ani and Tom had both graduated amid lots of pomp and circumstance and joyful celebratory festivities all around. But instead of slowing down for the summer, life seemed to be picking up speed all around me, and there were too many changes coming in its wake. Tom’s moving plans had him leaving in a little over a month from now, and Ani was taking off to Portland in a couple of weeks to help Paulo pack up his mother and grandparents, who were moving back to Italy to be with family. Although Paulo’s mother, Ilaria, had almost fully recovered from her terrible car accident last fall, she now walked with a limp and a cane, and leaned heavily on Paulo in ways that didn’t sit well with her. Ilaria wanted him to be free to pursue the life he chose, with the woman he wanted, and she was convinced that as long as she and her parents stayed in the United States, Paulo would feel obligated to care for them.
Knowing Paulo even as little as I did, Ilaria had probably pegged him right. He was that kind of guy. Always reaching out to the underdog, empowering the powerless, lifting up the downtrodden, and all that noble hero type stuff. Which made him perfect for Ani. Not because she was an underdog or powerless or downtrodden, but because she was the same way. Always putting others first and thinking the best about people. I know that’s why she fell for Professor Jerkface. She actually believed every sweet lie he told her. Because Ani was that kind of girl.
Paulo and Ani were then flying to Italy with his mom and grandparents to make sure they were settled back into their old neighborhood. While there, they planned to stop in to see friends in Lucca, and to check on how an after-school community program Paulo had launched was doing in his absence. He’d spent almost fifteen months in Lucca last year on an international studies program and had discovered a real need for a mentor program for kids who had nothing to do but cause trouble after school let out. Ani assured me they were coming back—she had a job waiting for her here in town—but really, who knew what would happen if they found a pressing reason for them to stay in Lucca? Paulo had dual citizenship and could move back there anytime. If they were going to be married, as I was certain was the unofficial plan, well, there was a real possibility that Ani would be leaving sooner or later.
And that meant I’d be losing both my best friends in the foreseeable future. I could hardly let myself think about it.