Если я останусь
10:12 A.M.
IhadothergoodfriendsatthemusicconservatorycampIwenttointhesummer.Peoplelikedmewellenough,buttheyalsodidn’treallyknowme.Iwasquietinclass.Ididn’traisemyhandalotorsasstheteachers.AndIwasbusy,muchofmytimespentpracticingorplayinginastringquartetortakingtheoryclassesatthecommunitycollege.Kidswereniceenoughtome,buttheytendedtotreatmeasifIwereagrown-up.Anotherteacher.Andyoudon’tflirtwithyourteachers.
"WhatwouldyousayifIsaidIhadticketstothemaster?"Adamaskedme,aglintinhiseyes.
"Shutup.Youdonot,"Isaid,shovinghimalittleharderthanI’dmeantto.
Adampretendedtofallagainsttheglasswall.Thenhedustedhimselfoff."Ido.AttheSchnitzleplaceinPortland."
"It’stheArleneSchnitzerHall.It’spartoftheSymphony."
"That’stheplace.Igottickets.Apair.Youinterested?"
"Areyouserious?Yes!Iwasdyingtogobutthey’relikeeightydollarseach.Wait,howdidyougettickets?"
"Afriendofthefamilygavethemtomyparents,buttheycan’tgo.It’snobigthing,"Adamsaidquickly."Anyhow,it’sFridaynight.Ifyouwant,I’llpickyouupatfive-thirtyandwe’lldrivetoPortlandtogether."
"Okay,"Isaid,likeitwasthemostnaturalthing.
ByFridayafternoon,though,IwasmorejitterythanwhenI’dinadvertentlydrunkawholepotofDad’star-strongcoffeewhilestudyingforfinalslastwinter.
Itwasn’tAdammakingmenervous.I’dgrowncomfortableenougharoundhimbynow.
