Biker Class (17 page)

Jake lifted only his pointer finger and hit one note, the brief sound
echoing for only a moment. He looked to Melanie to see if that would satisfy
her, but of course it did not. She was still sitting there, watching the keys
expectedly.

"That's not it, is it?" she asked him, glancing up at Jake
with her brows raised.

"That's about the best thing I can do," he told her bluntly,
remembering his incredibly low attention span as a child. Well… he actually
still had it.
Partly the reason for his bad grades.

He glanced over at her, expecting to see her disapproval, but instead
saw her watching him. Her brows were pulled together and Melanie looked almost
at war with herself.

"What?" he asked, almost
chuckling.

Melanie snorted to herself and shook her head, looking away from him
and back to the keys. Jake repeated the question, and in response, Melanie
looked back and forth between him and the grand piano. Finally, she replied.

"It's nothing really," she shrugged, smiling to herself.
"I just… I just never pegged you for a piano player." She was looking
at him with surprised eyes, but it wasn't a negative surprise.

"Oh, I'm not," he was quick to say, putting his hands in the
air like
a surrender
. If his friends knew that he was
even
involved
with a piano, let alone dabbled in playing, he would never
hear the end of it. If his friends were the
father
and
he was the son, he would be disowned. "I ride Harleys, not 'play
piano'."

"For some reason, I'm having trouble believing that."

The tone in her voice caught his attention. He looked up from the keys
at which he had been previously staring and to Melanie's face. She was looking
at him in a different way, a new way. It was almost like… she understood him
more. Not that she was anywhere
near
understanding this complex guy, but
it was like she just uncovered a new, softer layer that she would have never
thought existed.

She flashed him a bright, cheery, signature smile. Her voice was
supportive, kind, gentle. "Play for me."

Jake frowned and his eyebrows pulled together. He blinked.
"What?"

"Play a song for me, Jake."

She held his eyes.

Jake simply sat there, his conflicting emotions battling one another.
He was a biker. He drank, he smoked,
he
did drugs
occasionally when he felt like it. He didn't
play piano.
Well, the correct
way to phrase it would be that he didn't
want
to play piano, but he knew
how. Oh, did he know how! Ever since he was seven
years-old
,
he would sit down at the piano with his mother almost every day and watch her
play. He would watch with the utmost observance and solitude, determined to
hear the angelic sound that came from an angelic woman.

But, of course, he hadn't played in years. He hadn't even glanced at a
piano since his mother left. Did he still remember how? Was there any truth to
that whole 'muscular memorization' thing?

Of course he remembered. He knew that deep down. Any memory that
involved his mom—good or bad—stood out in his mind... all the time.
He remembered every key, every note,
every
mere
sound
that had come from her fingers. Every glimmering movement that she made, he
knew. But did he want to play right now? Would it bring back too many painful
memories? Hearing that song again...
playing
that song... could he do
it? Would it be too much of an emotional battle that he didn't want to fight?

He thought that Melanie had no idea of the emotional attachment to any
of this, and for the most part she didn't, but she knew about his mother. She
knew from her
oddly realistic
dream that Ms. Cooper would play every day
when she got home from work. But the bottom line was:
could he do it
?

Not remembering to tell his body to move, he turned towards the keys
and stretched his fingers. Melanie smiled as he sighed in defeat, shoulders
slumping as he looked upon the painfully familiar keys. Slowly, unsure, he
began to play. Jake touched the white and black keys that his mother had so
many years ago on that fateful day.

Her favorite song
, he thought.

The beautiful tune slowly progressed, stretching and weaving around
the room. Jake heard Melanie let out a breath, but he didn't turn around to see
if it was good or bad. He was too entranced by the song that he loved, that
she
loved, that he hadn't heard for three years.
One that he
hadn't
played
for nearly four.

Melanie was sitting beside him, grinning, her white teeth glowing. She
studied his hand movements, the way his fingers weaved without hesitation and
with passion. Melanie glanced up to his face. His eyes were halfway closed,
seeing nowhere in particular.
To a different time.
He
started over to the beginning, the volume softening. She was in awe. The
beautiful, crisp notes echoed in her ears and in the mind. It was a tune that
she would never forget.

It was an unnaturally beautiful sight. The 'unnatural' part of it was
that there stood a rough, seemingly King-of-the-streets guy, clad in a leather
jacket and tattered jeans, playing the piano with such swiftness and passion as
a professional. The 'beautiful' part of it was what stood out the most,
however. It made her want to stare... watch...
listen
for hours.

It was odd... she could almost hear the story behind the notes; filled
with love, innocence, an
almost-longing
somewhere in
it... it was something that couldn't be described with words. The sound would
have to weave through your hypnotized ears for one to really understand the
naïve addictiveness of it. Jake's eyes closed completely, she noticed. The look
on his face was foreign. She'd never seen him look so... in touch with himself,
so peaceful almost. Dreamy.

Looking at Jake's rarely-at peace face with the music dancing across
the
newly-discovered
room, Melanie found herself
realizing that there was much more to Jake Dylan Cooper than she had ever
thought. The biker tried to put up a front... a front that had begun to
slightly sink into his personality... but there was more under that serious
face. And she liked it.

If she hadn't been so ensnared by the wonderful music, Melanie
wouldn't have realized that he had come to a stop. The sound finally ceased,
but his fingers stayed on the keys, still pushing them down, restless. Jake was
staring at the keys, astounded. He wanted to smile, and he wanted to frown at
the way he missed the sound coming from his mother's fingers. He couldn't
decide whether he was happy or not. Before Melanie could stop herself, she
blurted out,

"I want to learn it."

This helped Jake to decide what to do. He settled with a smile. Of all
of the things Melanie could have said, she practically orders him to teach it
to her. He found this funny. Jake chuckled.

"What? I do!" she laughed with him, watching his face, which
was still staring at the piano keys. "That's—" she shook her
head, unable to think of a word "—teach it to me."

"So, you, uh... you like it, too," Jake said softly, smiling
to himself.

"I love it," she answered honestly. Melanie asked a question
that was irking her, considering that this particular tune seemed to be so
important to him. "Where did you learn it?"

His smile flashed away as quickly as it had come, and she knew that
she probably should have kept her question to herself. Jake's jaw clenched,
making the veins in his neck stand out.

"Um..." he muttered, voice quiet and somewhat rough,
"actually, my, uh... mom. She taught it to me. A while ago."

"Oh," she nodded, biting her lip. Melanie knew that she was
pushing her luck, but she couldn't help it. "She played piano?"

"Sure did," he answered quietly, smiling almost. He was
still speaking to the keys. His eyes became dreamy again. "God, she was
great at it."

"'Was'?"

He didn't answer, and Melanie knew that she probably just said the
wrong thing.
The worst thing, actually.
Jake chewed on
his lip and exhaled through his nose.

"Yeah, was," he replied shortly.

"So, um, how long have you been playing?" Melanie wondered
aloud, desperately trying to change the subject to something a little less
touchy.

He, for the first time since he had begun playing, glanced up at her.
She was almost a little disoriented by him after watching him for so long but
never once making eye contact. He actually
smiled
.

"Ten years," he answered, sitting up straighter, almost
proudly. Melanie's brows rose in awe.

"
Ten
?" she clarified. He nodded, his smile growing at
her surprised expression. Her mouth was agape, making him grin even more.
"Good God, Jake, you beat me out by four years!"

"Well, maybe you can be as good as me in a couple of years, Hart."

Instead of a witty comeback like he was expecting, Melanie just turned
her gaze to the shining keys and whispered, "Maybe."

She couldn't wrap her mind around that song. It wasn't so much
him
playing
it,
it was...
it
(the song itself). And
the way he played it simply made the tune even more alluring. It was like it
was his life in song form, revealing so much to her that she didn't know.

"By the way," he said suddenly, "if you ever tell
anyone about this, I'll—"

"I wasn't going to tell anyone," she met his gaze
straight
in the eyes. The sheer honesty that practically radiated from her almost took
him aback. Jake could honestly say that at that moment, he gained a new respect
for Melanie Hart. Sure, he always knew that she was honest and trustworthy...
but at the same time, he never really
comprehended
it; especially for
what it was worth. It had always just gone back to the point that she was a
goody-goody—a HOT goody-goody—and he and his friends never thought
past that. As the completely-clueless-of-what-he-was-capable-of girl sat there,
smiling supportively and honestly at him, Jake felt his first real twinge of
guilt.

Ignoring the uncomfortable way his stomach was twisting, he smiled
back at her, appreciatively. Come to think of it, he honestly thought this is
the most he'd smiled in one day in a long time.
For the past
three years, maybe.

"You know what?" Melanie said suddenly, her cheeks slightly
red for a reason he didn't understand. "Let's put your skills to the
test,
Cooper."

"Uh, okay," said Jake, unsure.

"Play anything," she instructed him, a controlled smile
tugging at her lips. Suspiciously, his eyes
squinted,
he turned to the keys and began to play a simple tune with his right hand. Jake
began to understand when Melanie came in with her right hand as well, playing
the same tune in a different key, creating a simple, yet sweet harmony. In
response to her, he placed his left hand on the keys and played the
corresponding chord. His tutor used the same chord in the different key, except
she walked the chord instead of playing it straight. To the 'bad boy biker's'
slight discomfort, he was enjoying playing around on this old thing more than
he would have liked.

Jake then decided to change completely, morphing to a different key
and beat, conflicting terribly with what Melanie was doing. The sound was
dreadful, but Melanie just gasped at him in faux anger and quit playing
momentarily. She watched his hands for a few seconds,
then
slowly joined in. Just then, he began to smirk, and went completely off-course
again
.
His tutor frowned, not as jokingly this time, and tried to follow with a few
deep chords. He sped up profusely. Melanie
pouted,
actually a little peeved at this point, and watched him with eyes narrowed.

"What?" he asked innocently after a few moments and she
hadn't joined in. "Why aren't you playing?"

"Are you gonna change again?" Melanie scowled, making him
smile smugly at how she was actually getting irritated.

"No," he shook his head. She didn't move, still eying him
with squinted eyes. "
No
," he said again, an almost-smirk on
his face. Hesitantly, Melanie's hands moved back to the instrument, but right
as she played her first note, he swiftly changed to something in more of a
minor key. The note clashed horribly and Melanie groaned, slapping his arm in
aggravation.

"Jake!" she cried, annoyed. He watched her expectantly, his
hands playing the same tedious tune over and over again as she sat there, arms
folded. Jake didn't even look at the keys, he just sat there staring, waiting.

"C'mon," he finally commanded, grinning.

"Nope."

"I won't do it again."

"Yes, you will."

"I swear," Jake nodded, lifting his hand momentarily from
the instrument, raising his right in the air as if in promise, "I won't do
it again."

She watched him for a second,
then
joined. He
stayed where he was. Melanie finally smiled, but it was small (he could tell
she was holding that face-eating grin in), and slowly, he broke his promise. He
gradually began to walk downward towards her end of the piano, changing the key
again. Melanie scowled, watching his fingers determinedly and matching them
within a second. Jake's fingers continued to glide towards the lighter bottom
notes, and Melanie stayed where she was, determined to stay right behind him.
He wasn't going to beat her at her own game.

Unfortunately, she was too busy with trying to stay on tune to notice
that his hands were going to overlap her own in a matter of seconds. His body
was drawing closer to hers also, since he
was having
to lean for his hands to continue descending down the sugar pine keys. Slowly,
hesitantly, his hands touched hers, but to his shock, she didn't immediately
pull away. Melanie did, however, immediately quit playing.

Her eyes snapped away from the piano and to him, trying to catch his
eye, unsure of his intentions. His face was close to Melanie's, but he did not
meet her gaze. He kept his face faced towards the keys, watching the way her
hands stood still and his wandered over hers, playing the nearby keys and
occasionally touching them. Melanie's face was still turned towards him,
inquiring, only inches from his cheek. He could feel her uneven, warm breath on
the side of his neck.

Finally, after for what neither of them knew how long, more notes
joined in. Jake noticed that one of her hands had begun to move, but he still
felt the moist, small breath on his cheek. Her other began to move as well, and
they played together. Occasionally, one of their hands would have to go under
or over the
other's
, and her breath always hitched for
a fraction of a second. He couldn't help but notice.

Melanie's head, after for what felt like forever, finally turned away
from Jake and towards the piano. They both became extremely aware of the music
coming from them at the same time. It was beautiful. Stunning, really.

The sun was beginning to set behind them, and the orange glow surfaced
through the window. Jake glanced at his tutor through the corner of his eye,
and noticed immediately the angle the light shed over her. The shade of the
rays and her hair glowed, her beautiful figure illuminated and the edge of her
long eyelashes barely glowing. She was like a perfect Sepia picture,
breath-taking to behold.