Free In Harmony by Helena Newbury Page A

He’d never had any intention of graduating. His time here was the prize, and he’d made the most of it.
    I could feel the panic start to knot and twist my insides. He was my only chance!
    “If you don’t do this,” I said in a small voice, “I won’t graduate.”
    Now he’d say “Yes.” I was sure of it. However many hearts he’d broken, however many classes he’d missed, he was still human. He wouldn’t just let me fall.
    But he sighed and looked away. When he looked back at me, I could see real pain in his eyes, as if he wanted the answer to be different. “I’m sorry,” he said at last.
    I couldn’t breathe. This was the one thing I’d never imagined. I’d thought that he might laugh. I’d even considered that he might want money. But never that he might just flat-out refuse. “There must be something I can say,” I told him, hearing the panic rising in my voice. “There has to be something I can say that’ll—You have to!”
    He closed his eyes for a second, as if considering.
    And then he pulled the door open.
    When I got up off the stool, my legs felt like they weren’t strong enough to take me. I walked slowly to the door and, just as I left, put the beer he’d given me down on the table.
    “You can keep the beer,” he said, sadness in his voice.
    “I don’t want your stupid beer!” I said viciously, tears filling my eyes. And then I was blundering down the corridor, feeling the wetness rolling down my cheeks.
     
    ***
     
    I found a door that led out to the street and pushed through it. Natasha and the others were still back in the bar, but I could always call them. I needed to be alone.
    Outside, the clouds had finally decided to give up their snow and thick white flakes were blanketing everything. Snow can make anything look beautiful, even an alley filled with overflowing dumpsters.
    That was the moment, I thought. That was the moment my entire life to date ended, and some new one began. One spent in Boston. One without music.
    Professor Harman had been right—it had been a stupid plan all along. All I’d done was prolong the inevitable for a few hours. I wasn’t even angry with Connor, really; I was angry with myself, for believing in miracles.
    I stumbled on, the snow crunching underfoot. I was only wearing the little strappy top and jeans and I knew, in an abstract way, that it was bitterly cold, but somehow it didn’t seem to matter. There was a burning pain inside that pushed the cold back, leaking out through my tears to scald my face. The life I’d wasted, ever since I was a kid. All the things I’d given up to practice, practice, practice. All for nothing.
    I came to a set of iron railings, and realized I was looking out over water. The bar backed almost onto the river, with just the alley separating them, and the water shone like black glass, reflecting the colored lights of the bars and stores. Further out, away from the glare, it was just a black, gaping maw.
    I leaned against the railings and cried, hot wracking sobs that left me breathless. Cried until there were no tears left, but I didn’t feel better. I felt like I’d been broken open, my stupidity exposed for everyone to see, and I had no idea what to do next.
    “Alright.” It came from right beside me and when I jerked around, I saw Connor was standing next to me at the railing.
    Numb shock. The tiniest sliver of hope, but I couldn’t allow myself to even acknowledge it without being sure. My voice was little more than a croak. “What?”
    “Alright.” And this time I knew he was serious. I could hear in his voice how deep he’d had to dig, how he was going against every instinct he had.
    I wiped my hand across my eyes. I didn’t want him to see me crying, even though I knew it was too late. “Why?” I asked.
    He gave me a look that made me catch my breath. He looked like he was screaming inside, as if he wanted to do something, but had to hold back.
    “It’s the right thing to do,” he said at