Love at First Note by Jenny Proctor Read Free Book Online Page A

marathon of
Friends
reruns.
    “Oh, hey, Emma,” Lilly said. “Your sister called while you were next door.”
    I turned. “Did she? Did you talk to her?”
    “Yeah. I answered your phone since I knew she wouldn’t leave you a message. Hope you don’t mind.”
    “No, I’m glad you did. What’d she say?”
    “She wants you to call her. Something about an audition piece? I think she wants you to play it for her so she can hear all the dynamics and other blah blah musical terms I don’t understand.”
    As far as I knew, Ava didn’t have any auditions coming up , which meant she was probably working on the Barber Concerto for the video I’d offered to send to my professor at CIM. Ava working on the piece was a good thing. Ava asking me for help? That was a miracle. “Okay, thanks. I’ll call her back right now.” I grabbed my phone and my ice cream and headed for my room.
    “Emma,” Lilly called before I was out of earshot. “Don’t give up on Elliott. Next time will be better, I’m sure.”
    I waved my spoon in the air before rounding the corner of the kitchen. “Yeah, yeah.”
Better like a toothache.

Chapter 5
    I didn’t see Elliott for the rest of the week. It wouldn’t have been hard to scheme my way into a casual run-in. I heard him in the entryway more than once, and I could have found a reason to go outside at just that moment to check the mail or take out the trash or, I don’t know, take pictures of an angry squirrel. But I’d already set myself up as a twitterpated, lovesick fan. The next time he saw me had to feel completely organic. I couldn’t make it happen; it had to just . . . happen.
    But all my scheming to not seem like I was scheming? It totally backfired. So much so that I actually started avoiding him. Every possible encounter seemed like something I could have set up, and I couldn’t stand the thought of him thinking I would do such a thing. It was much better to be guilty of avoiding someone on purpose than it was to be constantly seeking them out. Less weird anyway. Or so I told myself on Thursday afternoon when I sat in my car, my seat all the way reclined so Elliott wouldn’t see me as he crossed the street in front of our house and went inside.
    I pressed the heels of my hands over my eyes and groaned. I was being ridiculous. I knew I was being ridiculous, but—
    A sharp rap sounded on the driver’s side window, and I jumped. Ava stood beside my car, her hand propped on her hip and her eyebrows scrunched up in question. She looked annoyed, like she couldn’t believe she was related to someone who would do something as outlandish as recline the seat in her car. Never mind the fact that I was actually hiding from my super-hot neighbor. I sat up and looked past her, making sure Elliott was all the way inside, then motioned for Ava to move around the car and get in.
    “What are you doing?” The tone of her voice matched her eyebrows—all scrunched up and judgy.
    “Nothing. I was just . . . resting.”
    “It looked like you were hiding.”
    “I wasn’t hiding. I live here. Who would I be hiding from?”
    “Right. You live here. Which is why it doesn’t make sense that you’re resting in your car. Why not just go inside and rest on your couch?”
    Suddenly I was thirteen years old, trying to reason a five-year-old Ava out of the sandbox at the park and back onto the sidewalk so I could walk her home. She could dig her heels in better than anyone I knew, stubborn to an I-will-drive-you-crazy fault, and she never backed down. Even when it was something stupid like her big sister sitting in her car a little too long. “What’s with the inquisition? It’s nice outside.”
    “Hmmm. I don’t buy it. Your windows weren’t down. I think you were hiding from your new famous neighbor. He’s in the same house, right? Is he home? Is that his car?”
    “What? That’s ridiculous.” I knew I shouldn’t have said anything to Mom. “I’m not hiding from