It turned out that Philip was on the right track with buying secondhand. In fact, there were entire groups on CappieAppie dedicated to just that. The realization made Kaitlyn groan.
You mean I could have bought all this for like, half the price? This entire time?! Her thumb swiped along the screen to scroll further. That stockpot’s way cheaper than the one I got! And look at that blender! And laptops… It took a significant effort to suppress an even larger groan as she kept looking. It made her already light wallet feel even lighter.
It’s ok. It’s already done. And some of this stuff is in pretty bad shape. A particularly dented frying pan and set of chipped plates caught her eye. Yet scrolling through the entries revealed a plethora of items for sale, not just kitchen supplies and electronics. Next loop though, I’m totally trying this out. Anything to make my funds go further.
Although she’d already purchased most of her necessities and wishlist items, that didn’t mean the discovery was completely useless to her right now. After all, she still wanted to learn music. Part of her was tempted to set the goal aside for later, to try it out after mastering programming. But Kaitlyn fought that urge down. Giving in would feel like toeing the line between focusing her priorities and obsessing over one thing. Better to struggle with juggling multiple things and stay firmly on the side of healthier behaviors.
That’s how, the very next week, she found herself as the proud owner of an old and only slightly banged-up electronic keyboard. The thing had obviously been unearthed from some attic or garage based on the layer of dust coating its surface, not to mention the slight musty smell. But Kaitlyn didn’t particularly care. It was hers now.
After cleaning the thing off, she set the long tray-like instrument on her desk. It jutted out a bit past the table’s edges, but that was ok. It was good enough for now.
Hesitantly, she turned it on and poked at a key. A clear note rang out from a tinny speaker in the thing's surface, far louder than she'd expected. Wincing, she turned the volume knob way down and tried again. That's better.
Straightening, she began plinking away at the keys for a little bit just to get familiar with them. A strange little discordant tune rewarded her efforts. It didn’t sound good, exactly, but it wasn’t making her ears bleed, which was a definite positive.
After about ten minutes of just messing around with the keyboard and its various settings - one of which changed the sounds of keys into other options like a synth, trumpet, or even dog barks - Kaitlyn decided it was time to actually try learning for real.
Ok. Where do I even start?
Luckily, there were guides for that. Soon enough she'd picked out a few promising videos on piano for beginners. Her hands hovered above the keys as she squinted at her phone, trying to mimic the positioning shown there.
Wait. I don't have to squint at this little thing. Kaitlyn nearly smacked herself. I just bought a laptop! I have a big screen for this!
After adjusting her setup, she tried again. She was in the middle of clumsily navigating through a few basic exercises when the door swung open energetically.
"Hey, Kate! Oooh, what's that? A piano?" Heather whirled into the room in a flurry of lavender and cream, her blonde curls bobbing along behind. "Omigosh, I didn't know you were a pianist! I like, played a little as a kid, but totally forgot most of it. How long have you been playing for?"
"About twenty minutes." She grinned up at her roommate. "I figured I'd take up a hobby, and playing an instrument seemed fun."
"Really?!" Heather's blue eyes widened in surprise. "That's like, sooo awesome! Gosh, Kaitlyn, you're making me feel like a slacker, here! I dunno how you even juggle all this stuff. Like, seriously!"
She just shrugged, suppressing a chuckle of her own. "I've got more free time than you'd think. Plus, it's nice to have a hobby."
"Ugh, I wish I had time for hobbies." The girl spun toward her desk, collapsing into her chair heavily. "My International Relations class just assigned another paper. Can you even believe it? The midterm is in, like, two weeks!"
Kaitlyn nodded in commiseration. "That sucks."
"It does! It's totally not fair. Like, I've got other classes to study for, y'know?" The girl pouted. "Are you ready for them? I'm so dreading Psych. They've been just throwing research papers at us, and I dunno how, like, actually important they are…"
She listened to the blonde ramble on about the familiar topic for a while, nodding and interjecting almost on autopilot. She'd heard it all before, and certainly would hear it again. In the meantime, her mind wandered to her own midterms.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
I'll still show up to my real exams. No point in letting all that time and effort go to waste, not when I can get an easy win under my belt. But the Programming one… She frowned slightly in thought. They'll probably let me take it, right? I mean, they probably would treat it like the assignments and wouldn't grade it, but that's still valuable feedback I can get.
Secretly, she knew that most of that valuable feedback might be "you suck at programming". But at this point, what did it matter? She'd gotten kind of numb to that. As long as she could improve, she would. It was just a matter of stubbornness and will.
Eventually, Heather's rant came to an end. "Oh, wanna grab dinner? I'm like, starving."
"Sure." Flicking off the keyboard's power switch, she scooted back from the desk. "I haven't eaten yet. Cappy's?"
"Of course!" Heather beamed. "Oh, you gotta show me that salad you were talking about the other day. I tried to make it myself, but it just didn't seem quite…" She gestured widely with her hands. "Exciting enough, y'know? Like, it didn't have that signature Kaitlyn kick. I think I was missing something?"
"Hmmm, maybe. How did you make the dressing? The ratios are kinda hard to get right, and if you forget the pepper it throws off everything…"
The pair continued chatting as they left the dorm, flicking off the lights as they left.
***
The moon shone bright and full, hanging in a cloudless night sky. Its light shone gently through the large windows of Chella's Italian Bistro, reflecting off the white tile of the dining area. The leftover confetti, plates, and empty bottles of wine that marked the previously raucous party had all but disappeared, leaving behind a bare line of pushed together tables and haphazardly scattered chairs.
Kaitlyn walked through the front of the restaurant, glancing around. Dishes are done. Philip's got most of the confetti. I already took care of the balloons, too. Which means…
“That’s the last of it,” Scarra grunted as he emerged from the kitchen, tying up a trash bag. “The rest we can take care of tomorrow.”
"Are you sure? I can stay to help if you need it…" Kaitlyn knew the couple would refuse, but it never hurt to ask. At worst it did nothing, but at best it earned some easy brownie points.
Chella dusted her hands off behind the counter. "Oh, heavens, no. Don't worry about it, dear. We've kept you for quite long enough already." She turned to the front door, where Philip finished sweeping the floor. "That goes for you as well, Philip! You should get going, as well."
Philip nodded. “Once I’ve finished this up, I will.”
“Dear, really. You work too hard sometimes.” She gently removed the broom from his hands and bustled him toward the back. “I’ll take care of it. Though I'm fairly certain you've already gotten it into fine shape.”
“Mrs. Anatonia-”
“Ah-ah-ah!" Chella waggled a finger at the well-dressed server. "No buts. I’ve got it.”
I watched the usual back and forth as Scarra approached the guy, telling him in no uncertain terms that he was done with work for the day. After a bit more hesitation on Philip's part, he relented and headed toward the kitchen to collect his things.
The group made their way through the swinging door into the more brightly lit back area. Just as Kaitlyn picked up her jacket, Chella spoke up again. "Kaitlyn, dear, you live on campus, right? How do you get home usually?"
Here we go. "I usually walk."
“You walk? In the dark?” Chellas blanched.
"It's no big deal. It's not far, and I've never had any problems." She just shrugged. Not in all my years doing this.
“Well, be that as it may, you’re not doing it tonight. Not at this hour.” Mrs. Anatonia crossed her arms. “Philip, would you be a dear and help Kaitlyn get home?”
Yes he will. It was pointless to object here as well, she knew. She'd tried getting a bit more stubborn with her resistance a few times, but all that had accomplished was bringing Scarra down on her. As much of a softie as the guy was, she couldn't help but shrink back a bit at how threatening he could be. Especially when he threatened to toss her in his own car and physically drag her to the dorms. After that loop, she'd just chosen to accept her fate.
Besides, she admitted, watching the grey-eyed boy. There's no real reason for me to refuse. I don't mind being around him like I used to.
“Of course.” Philip nodded to the woman and shouldered his faded yellow backpack. “It’s on the way. It won’t be a problem.”
“Perfect.” Chella's features warmed with gratitude. “Thank you. That puts my heart at ease."
Philip turned to her, cold eyes meeting hers. "Are you prepared to leave? I've parked out back."
"Ready whenever you are."
With that, the pair headed out the back door. Chella bade them a good night as Scarra simply grunted at their departure. Kaitlyn stepped into the cool night air, breathing it in as Philip led her to his car. Its fading blue paint and the inexpertly fixed dent in its trunk made it resemble a rustbucket more than anything, but despite all appearances the thing did run. It sounded like it would keel over any second, but it ran.
The guy opened the passenger side door for Kaitlyn. "After you."
She smiled in thanks, settling into her seat. With more than a little surprise, she realized that she was actually looking forward to this ride.
Come to think of it, this has always been one of the few times where I can talk to Philip while he's not working or tutoring me. It hasn't really mattered in the past, since he's been so guarded. We just kind of made small talk. But now… She glanced over as Philip settled into the driver's seat. This time, he's been a bit more open. Maybe this is my chance to really learn something.
A small bit of excitement built within her as the engine gave a wheezing lurch and thudded to life. Then, they set off into the night.