Biker Class (18 page)

Realizing, disgusted with
himself
, that he
was staring, Jake quickly tore his eyes from the sight and back to their
practically twined hands. The beautiful notes that their fingers produced
floated lazily around the walls, through the home, through their minds, through
the closed window, and out into the quiet California countryside.

"So... how is Biker Boy doing in tutoring sessions?" Rachel
asked, turning away from her best friend Melanie to take the ice cream cone
being handed out to her. She took a nice, long lick from the frozen chocolaty
goodness. Rachel smiled dreamily. They were on the beach that Saturday, taking
a break from the SAT preparations that most of the
Seniors
were being required to take. They knew it wouldn't be long until the
life-changing tests were bound to begin, and stress was building on every
class-man as an unfortunate but predictable result. The little ice cream stand
was about as big as a pickup truck, meant to hitch up as a trailer to a car,
covered in white and rainbow stripes, drawing the eye. After all, it had
initially been Rachel's idea to grab a frozen treat. Melanie had quickly
obliged.

For the first time that Rachel had seen, Melanie didn't flinch at the
mention of the bad boy. She still did not look comfortable, but much more so
than she would have been a week or two before.

"Well, he's only been over a few times," Melanie shrugged,
slipping three crisp bills to the ice cream man in exchange for orange yogurt,
"so not
a lot
of work has been done. But I'll put it this
way—thank you, sir
!—
it could be much
worse."

"It
..
. '
could
be much worse'?" her friend repeated incredulously.

"Yeah, it could," she
nodded,
almost a little shocked at the honesty of that statement as well.

"Melanie, this is as 'worse' as it gets!" she exclaimed,
causing for a bit of chocolate that had been in her mouth to run down her chin.
When Melanie giggled, she quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand,
struggling to keep a serious expression on her face.

"Oh, calm down," the tutor laughed.

"Calm down? Calm...
down
? Melanie, you want
me
to
'calm down'?"

"Yeah! We're fine."

"Oh, so it's 'we' now?"

"You are totally misreading this," Melanie laughed again,
totally unfazed. She stopped, popping a spoonful of orange-y yumminess into her
mouth,
then
speaking to an upset Rachel. The wind blew
their hair around their faces. They both had to put a hand on it to keep it out
of their mouths and lines of vision.

"Am I?"

"Yes!" she chuckled good-naturedly. The sun shone off of her
white teeth. "It's only been two sessions, okay? I'm not saying that he's
as harmless as a puppy or anything. All I'm saying is that... he's not too
bad."

Rachel looked at Melanie as if she'd just spoken in a totally
different language.

"Huh?"

Melanie grinned, rolling her eyes. Her wavy hair swirled around. The
smell of salt drifted from the nearby ocean. "He's been decent—you
know, for him," she quickly added.

"Well, I'm sure he's not doing too well in the academic area of
things," Rachel muttered, looking for any flaw in the situation that she
could find. Melanie sighed heavily.

"Well, our time is still young," she replied. "He has
plenty of time to catch up. We've only met
twice
."

"So... he was actually acting... you know...
nice
to
you?" she questioned, disbelief in her voice. They began to walk again,
back down the shoreline like they had been before going to get a snack. Melanie
hesitated before answering, her nose scrunching up like it always did when she
was thinking hard.

"If he was any normal person... no," she finally settled
for, remembering the subtle things he would always do that seemed to evade the
attention of her mother somehow, "but if I know him well enough, I think
that he is being nice...
for him
."

"Really." Rachel took a thoughtful lick of her ice cream.

"What?"

"Huh?"

"Why are you having so much trouble believing it? I mean
,
I know that Jake is
Jake
, but you're acting like
he's soulless."

"It's not like I'm judging him because he's him," Rachel
shook her head, "I'm judging him by his actions."

"What do his actions have to do with this?"

Rachel sighed, "Have you forgotten everything I've told you about
Jake since you came to California? With two tutoring sessions with the guy have
you just let everything he's done slip your mind?"

"No, of course not!" Melanie answered immediately, surprised
at her friend. "How could you even say that? If anything, that's all I
think about the whole time he's over!"

"Then why are you acting so nonchalant about the whole thing, Melanie?"

"Because I believe in him, Rachel!" she exclaimed, a little
louder and more forceful than she had meant to. Rachel stopped in her tracks,
an odd look across her face. But somehow, it wasn't an expression that Melanie
would have expected from someone she had just unintentionally yelled at. It was
kind of thoughtful, but still unsettling.

"You
what
?" she asked. It was quiet, almost inaudible
over the rushing of the waves around their ankles.

Melanie remembered the actions of the apparent 'heartless biker' that
was enough proof for her:

"
It'll help," she told him.

"
And what makes you so sure about that?" he asked,
actually a little amused at the fact she thought so.

"
Because… I, um, I believe in you," she said, shrugging
nonchalantly. For some reason that he didn't completely understand, Jake cut
off his motorcycle and his hand went limp on the handlebar. He was looking at
her with a look that couldn't be explained. It was befuddled, surprised,
unsure,
somehow
thankful
.

"
You what?" he asked, and it came out in some form of an
unbelieving laugh.

"
I think you can learn," Melanie nodded, smiling slightly.
"But you have to apply yourself." She emphasized the last statement.
An odd feeling stirred in the pit of his stomach that wasn't familiar to him.
This girl– hot girl– that he barely knew– but made it a
mission to get close to– was telling him that she believed that he could
learn– something he'd never heard. No teacher ever made an effort to 'tap
into his potential'. No peers of friends ever said he was smart. His father
definitely never told him that he was sharp.

This feeling in his stomach was foreign to him.

Was he feeling… proud?

Jake was speechless for the first time ever. He couldn't say anything
but ask skeptically, "Really?"

Melanie nodded, smiling earnestly. "Really."

Jake cranked up his bike and revved it a few times, smiling at her.
And it wasn't a smirk. And it wasn't forced. It was a smile. But he didn't roll
his eyes. He didn't scoff. He didn't even say thank you.

"
See you at school, Hart," he winked, speeding away
before she could register what was going on.

Suddenly, an idea came to him. It would be a good way to pass the time
and get on her good side. "Is there anything around here that you might,
maybe… need help with or something?"

"
What do you mean?" she
rose
her
brows.

"
Is there anything I can do for you?" Jake repeated,
realizing the double meaning to that phrase after it exited his mouth. When she
turned red, he continued hastily. "You know, anything around the house?
Like, a Man Job?" He tried to laugh, flexing his biceps. Melanie smiled,
realizing his effort to appease the situation.

"
I can't believe that I was scared to come in here," Melanie
laughed
loudly,
the boisterous sound bouncing off of
the walls. Jake's lips lifted just slightly at the sight, but it was still a
smile. His hands were in his jean pockets, his eyes on Melanie, with a
half-smile and his head barely tilted to the side, observant. She played a
short tune that was light and airy, dreamy almost.

"
You play, Hart?" he breathed.

"I'm no good," he chuckled to himself, a half-smile gracing
his face. She decided not to ask. For whatever reason, this piano obviously
struck a chord with him– no pun intended.

"
Oh, come on," Melanie smiled encouragingly.

"
No," he shook his head seriously, "really. You
don't want to hear me try to play."

"
Come on, Jake," she laughed, scooting over to her left
and patting the empty space beside her. "I want to hear you."

"
Trust me, no you don't."

"
I'm not taking no for an answer," Melanie grinned
determinedly. "C'mon. Take a seat!"

"
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."

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."

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.

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.

His face was close to Melanie's, but he did not meet her gaze. He kept
his face towards the keys, watching the way her hands stood still and his
wandered over hers, playing the nearby keys and occasionally touching them. Melanie
was still turned towards him, inquiring, her face 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
.

All of these memories, and others, Melanie had been replaying in her
mind quite often the past few days. Of course, their quiet... oddly nice...
piano moment had happened about a week ago, but Melanie still thought about it.
Often. That's one thing that kept her determined to help this guy more than
ever. There was another side to him that he didn't want anyone to know
about—that he had decided to show her, for whatever reason. Even if it
was just for a few minutes, he still had decided to.

She never forgot that.

Melanie was about to open her mouth and tell this to Rachel, desiring
to show that Jake was better than her friend thought. But, then:

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

"
I wasn't going to tell anyone."

She shut her mouth hastily, remembering her promise. Melanie Hart was
a woman of her word. If the story that Jake Dylan Cooper was a musical genius
when it came to playing piano got around, she would betray his trust, and she
knew that this was an important step in their friendship—if they were
going to be friends. Which she really wanted to
be.
Melanie
could tell that deep down... way
way
deep down... there was more to him
than what one would think by looking at him from the outside. You could never
judge a book by
it's
cover.