Free Caressa's Knees by Annabel Joseph

scalp. That such wildness could be tamed. It gave him hope. “Then what happens?” he asked again.
    “The music takes me. I slip down into it like a warm bath. Like a trance or something. Like waves…”
    Kyle considered that a moment. It was the same thing alcohol and drugs did for him not so many months ago. He was still pondering that when the stage manager stuck his head in and asked for Caressa. She broke away from him and Kyle stepped back, catching a speculative look from Denise. God, he’d been handling Caressa just like a lover. Of course, they were lovers, but Kyle wasn’t sure yet how Denise felt about that. Charming her into submission was one thing. Fucking her repeatedly was another. Maybe Denise would fire him, send him back to New York on the first available flight after the concert was over. But no, she wouldn’t do that, not when he had Caressa doing what Denise needed her to do.
    Caressa was already striding onto the stage by the time Kyle reached the wings. Applause swelled, the dignified, rich sound of a concert audience. At some unseen signal from the conductor, the members of the orchestra raised their instruments. Caressa sat in the middle of the stage alone, settling her cello between her knees and taking her bow between sure fingers. She looked utterly calm, utterly composed. Kyle supposed she was slipping…slipping down… He remembered that feeling, the soothing comfort it brought.
    She drew the bow across the strings and the first note of the concerto sounded, soft and yet magnified by the fact that a hundred musicians waited to pick up the strain. From the wings, Kyle listened and watched as the song developed, his eyes glued on Caressa in the spotlight. He’d heard her play, but this was something new, with the orchestra accompanying her and her fingers flying across the strings. She, alone, held the entire audience in the palm of her hand.
    She looked so vulnerable.
    Her body twitched and swayed as she played. Her face screwed into a mask of concentration only to brighten at the onset of a few light notes. It was hypnotic just to watch her. She was inside the music, just as she’d said. He felt a strange sense of pride, even though he’d had no part in her training or grueling practice sessions to arrive at this place she was today. As the piece drew to a climactic close, Kyle thought to himself, such talent. Amazing. For the first time since the concert began, he remembered to look over at Denise listening beside him.
    Denise was watching Caressa just as intently, only her lips were drawn down in a small frown.
    After the concert, all the way back to the hotel, Caressa sobbed and wouldn’t allow either Kyle or her aunt to soothe her. Denise just looked out the window, her jaw tense. Caressa leaned her forehead against her cello, a pile of tissues beside her. Kyle sat and felt like the kid who showed up at school only to find he’d studied for the wrong test.
     
    * * * * *
     
    Caressa fled to her room and locked the door as soon as they got to the hotel suite. She didn’t want anyone to see her. Especially him . That dumb, concerned look on his face. Jesus. Did he really not understand how badly she’d played?
    It had to be his fault. All that kissing and fucking and…kissing… She should have been practicing, not kissing him. And the way he’d bossed her around, making her eat a turkey sandwich when she hated turkey, blow drying her hair so it got all frizzy and poofy . She always pulled it back anyway. He just didn’t get it, he didn’t get anything . He was upsetting her routines—
    She froze at the knock on the door. It wasn’t her aunt’s knock. “Go away,” she yelled.
    “Open the door,” he said in a calm voice.
    “I said go away!” God, his stupid voice. She hated how it sounded like caramel, all smooth and melty around the edges. Where had he said he was raised? Louisiana? Texas? Again he knocked, two sharp raps in succession.
    “I’m trying to