Her smile reminded me of Eric, innocent and hopeful. Her hands were laid out in front of her, lifeless, and there was a bumper on either side of her head, keeping her facing forward.
“What would you like to play?” I took a few steps toward her. “I have drums left, but if you have any ideas I can get you something else.”
“Guitar.” Her mouth fell open a bit, as if she couldn’t control it, and then her smile returned. “I want to play guitar like my Parker.”
“Parker?” I repeated, my smile widening. “And who is this Parker?”
“Oh.” Her eyes were bright, but there were dark circles underneath them like she hadn’t gotten much rest in the past decade. “He’s my best friend.”
“Best friends are nice,” I said softly, the words clogging my throat as I watched her mouth fall open again and then close. Her eyes struggled to focus on me and then she blinked a few times, like she was clearing cobwebs.
“Guitar.” She coughed softly. “I want to play Parker’s guitar.”
“Guitar it is.” I looked down at her hands. They weren’t moving; she had to be paralyzed. How the heck was I going to get her to play guitar if she couldn’t move her hands?
“Ask Miss Janice, she’ll bring it out.”
“Miss Janice…” I stood to my full height, put my hands on my hips, and searched around the room, reading each nametag as I went.
“Red hat.” The girl said. “It’s a big red hat.”
“Huh?”
My eyes fell on a red hat, then the nametag. Janice. “Be right back.”
I jogged over. “Hey, I’m Saylor, a freshman at UW. I’m teaching the music workshop, and that girl over there said something about a guitar.”
The woman’s smile fell as her lips pressed into a thin line. “Yes, well, she can’t play it. It’s not hers.”
“But she said something about a Parker. Would he mind, you think?”
Janice’s eyes softened. “Honey, that girl is very special to Parker. It doesn’t take much to set her off, and when she remembers she can’t play guitar or even move her hands — she’s going to lose it. It’s near impossible to calm her down.”
“But maybe if I just brought the guitar over—”
“I’m sorry. No.” The woman offered a sad smile before walking away.
Well, crap.
Empty-handed I returned to the girl. “What’s your name anyways?”
“Princess.” She giggled and then coughed a bit, her face struggling to get the cough out. Like her body wasn’t strong enough to actually use the muscles needed for such a strenuous action.
“Okay, Princess.” I leaned down so we were face to face. “Martha’s grouchy today.”
She giggled more.
“So we have to do something illegal.”
Her eyes grew wide as saucers. “What are we going to do?”
“We…” My voice fell to a whisper. “…Are going to steal a guitar.”
“Oh yes!” Her neck strained as her head moved back and forth. “Yes! Can we, please? Parker would laugh so hard. He would laugh. I miss his laugh.” Her smile fell, her face clouded.
“Hey.” I touched her arm even though I knew she couldn’t feel it. “Why don’t I put you on look out? If anyone sees me steal the guitar, or if they’re watching. I want you to yell, ‘Ahoy Matey!’”
That did it.
Fits of laughter poured out of her. “You’re really funny.”
“Glad someone thinks so.” I winked. Gosh, she reminded me so much of Eric it made my heart clench. I missed that kid.
“Okay,” she whispered. “I yell Ahoy Matey if anyone looks, but you have to be fast.”
“Deal.” I tapped her arm again. “Now where do they keep the guitar?”
“Shh.” Her lips squeezed together, her eyes darted back and forth and then with a small smile she said. “They keep it by the toys. It’s in a box labeled Parker.”
Yeah, I was so going to get into trouble. But the poor girl deserved to be able to play something!
I gave her a salute and snuck over to the toy section. The guitar wasn’t really hidden. It was in a really nice case labeled Parker. Easy.
I reached down and unlocked the case, letting out a gasp as my fingers fell on one of the most expensive guitars I’d ever seen in real life.
The Fender Stratt had beautiful carvings for an acoustic, almost like it had been made specifically for this Parker guy.
“Ahoy! Ahoy!” A loud voice jolted me out of my trance.
“Busted.” Another voice followed. I knew that voice. With a muffled curse I turned around and slowly looked up.
Gabe.
Princess was right next to him in her chair giggling. “I did it! I warned you!”
“Forgot the Matey part.” I winked, trying to lighten the mood.
“Oh, sorry.” She cleared her throat. “Ahoy Matey!”
Gabe’s eyes narrowed.
“It’s uh…” I tucked my hair behind my ear. “Because I’m a Saylor.”
“Caught that.”
“So…” I stood, my knees cracking as I rose to my full height which still only met Gabe at his chest.
“Stealing?” He crossed his arms, muscles bulged beneath his long sleeve gray shirt.
“Sharing.” I shrugged. “She wanted to play, and I didn’t think it was fair that she’d be left out. Isn’t that right, Princess?”
Princess ignored me completely. Instead, her eyes were for Gabe, and only Gabe.
“Besides,” I said with fake confidence. “I don’t see your name anywhere on that bad boy.”
He smirked and pushed back his hair. It looked lighter than normal. Did he dye it? Why would he dye it darker? Was he into Goth or what?
“Princess,” Gabe said, turning. “Did you want to play the guitar?”
“Oh yes, please. Just like you.”
Crap. He played guitar, sang, and played piano. Great, so he was basically like sex on a platter for a girl like me. If he were ugly, I’d still be panting after him like a lost puppy.
Music people were weird.
Gabe’s eyes didn’t leave mine. “Not right now, Princess. I think your teacher’s right, though I frown upon her methods.” I rolled my eyes. “You should learn to play.”
“Yay!” Her head moved back and forth a bit, and then some saliva fell from her lips.