Если я останусь
4:57 A.M.
Heclaimedhewasn’tgoodwithsappylovesongs:"Ifyouwantasong,you’llhavetocheatonmeorsomething,"hesaid,knowingfullwellthatwasn’tgoingtohappen.
Thispastfall,though,AdamandIstartedtohaveadifferentkindoffight.Itwasn’tevenafight,really.Wedidn’tshout.Webarelyevenargued,butasnakeoftensionquietlyslitheredintoourlives.AnditseemedlikeitallstartedwithmyJuilliardaudition.
"Sodidyouknockthemdead?"AdamaskedmewhenIgotback."Theygonnaletyouinwithafullscholarship?"
Ihadafeelingthattheyweregoingtoletmein,atleast—evenbeforeItoldProfessorChristieabouttheonejudge’s"longtimesincewe’vehadanOregoncountrygirl"comment,evenbeforeshehyperventilatedbecauseshewassoconvincedthiswasatacitpromiseofadmission.Somethinghadhappenedtomyplayinginthataudition;IhadbrokenthroughsomeinvisiblebarrierandcouldfinallyplaythepieceslikeIheardthembeingplayedinmyhead,andtheresulthadbeensomethingtranscendent:thementalandphysical,thetechnicalandemotionalsidesofmyabilitiesallfinallyblending.Then,onthedrivehome,asGrampsandIwereapproachingtheCalifornia-Oregonborder,Ijusthadthissuddenflash—avisionofmeluggingacellothroughNewYorkCity.AnditwaslikeIknew,andthatcertaintyplanteditselfinmybellylikeawarmsecret.I’mnotthekindofpersonwho’spronetopremonitionsoroverconfidence,soIsuspectedthattherewasmoretomyflashthanmagicalthinking.
