Every little beat

“Twelfth Annual Music Competition?” I glanced up from the paper in my hand. “What are you trying to tell me?” Lindsey was wearing the same silly smile that she always wore as she stood there by my desk, staring at me eagerly with her big, round, chocolate brown eyes.
“Oh, come on, Carrie! You know you want to join.”
“And what makes you say that?” I asked, looking back at the ad as I set it flat on my desk. Two people stared back at me with smiles way too big to be natural; one holding a violin, and the other sitting in front of a piano. The words “Come Join the Twelfth Annual Music Competition Today!” were stretched out on the top of the page with big, bold letters. Just looking at the thing sent chills rushing down my spine. Who knew what would happen if I actually joined?
“Didn’t you say you play the piano?” Lindsey asked.
“Well yeah, but-”
“Then it’s perfect! Even take a look at the prize money.” Her hand reached down and pointed at a couple words in the ad. “One thousand dollars, Carrie. You see that? One thousand! Not one zero, not two, but three. Three perfectly round and beautiful zeros!”
I shooed her hand away. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, I know. One thousand dollars is a lot and I can do a lot with it, but I’m not that interested in music.”
“Now we both know that’s a lie,” Lindsey said, taking a seat next to me.
“Huh? What do you mean?” I asked, trying to sound as though I had no idea what she was talking about.
“We-ell, for one you always doodle pictures of notes in your notebooks, you hum in class even though you know the teachers hate it, and you stay after school to practice the on the piano they’ve got held up in the music room,” Lindsey said as she counted her fingers. “That’s three things right there.”
Man, I sure hate it when she was right.
“Well, I’m still not joining,” I said stubbornly, crossing my arms across my chest. I faced in the opposite direction of Lindsey, trying my best to give off the I-don’t-want-to kind of aura. You would have thought I was a spoiled kid if you had seen me.
“But why not?” Lindsey whined, holding the word “not” for about three seconds. Forget what I said earlier. You would have thought she was the spoiled kid.
“Don’t feel like it.”
“Common’, Carrie. Tell me the real reason, not another one of your lame excuses.”
I sighed, knowing Lindsey would keep pushing me until I gave her the real reason. I sat up straighter. “Fine, fine, I’ll tell you.” Lindsey’s face seemed to lighten up a bit and she leaned in closer.
“Go on,” she urged me. I hesitated for a moment.
“Well, uh,” I started. My eyes flickered back to Lindsey, her innocent smile still the same as always and her eyes beaming with extra radiance. Must be glad to be able to actually get something out of me. “My mom died on her way to one of my piano recitals when I was in fifth grade. It was a car crash.”
For once, Lindsey was actually silent. Her smile wasn’t there anymore and she seemed to be, serious for a moment. “Carrie, I-” she began, but stopped. I slung my backpack over my left shoulder and started my way toward the door. I could feel Lindsey’s eyes watch me as I opened the door. I stopped and met her eyes. Guilt was already starting to rush inside me.
“I was kidding. My mom is in perfect health, so don’t worry,” I said as I closed the door behind me.

I glanced at my watch as I made my way to the music room. The digits read 4:23. It couldn’t be this late already, right? I hadn’t even started my daily practice yet! My legs started moving a little bit faster. Mom and Dad would kill me if I was gone for too long. The music room soon came in sight, and when I reached for the doorknob I noticed something.
It was the sound of a piano.
The notes danced in the air. Every sound, every beat combined with one another. They twirled and leaped to the sky, letting nothing stop them. The song was powerful, it was fun, and most of all it was beautiful, and I wanted to know desperately who was playing it. So much that I swung the music door open before I could even realize what I was doing.
The music stopped, just like that, and sitting in front of the piano was a boy. He seemed to be somewhere around my age, but maybe a little bit older too. I felt my face redden as I realized how stupid I must look. “Uh, sorry. Wrong room,” I said quickly. Before the boy could say anything in reply I was gone. Running away like a coward.
I came to a stop when I finally made it outside of the school building. I was out of breath for a moment, even though I had only ran a short distance. I sat down in a nearby bench and rubbed my forehead. Beads of sweat clung onto my hand as I pulled it away, which I then wiped off on my jean pants. Questions began circling through my head. Should I join the music competition? Why did Lindsey want me to join it so badly. But most of all, my mind focused on one question: Who was that boy and why didn’t I recognize him? I sighed. It seemed that the only thing I was sure of was that I wasn’t going to practice today.