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Book 6: Cutting the Chord

Chapter 1: Speaking Eyes – September 2, 2019

Pursing his lips to blow one wavy flaxen lock out of his eyes, Jamin stepped into his music theory class and found a seat in the front row of the auditorium.  Today was his first day of college in his final year, but now – because of a change to his major – he was required to take this freshman level course.  Not that he minded.  It should be an easy class to ace.  

The bell rang, but the teacher was nowhere to be seen.  Suddenly, a tornado came whirling through the back door of the auditorium.  For some reason, it landed right next to Jamin.  He glanced to his right as the whirlwind stopped moving momentarily to hunt through her purse for a pen.  She bent forward, and her straight dark brown hair fell in a curtain towards her lap.

Jamin’s bright blue eyes traced her pristine profile.  It was, in fact, perfect.  Her brow was high and noble.  So was her cheekbone.  She’d feathered a bit of blush along it too.  He smiled.  He liked a girl with a little color.  His gaze continued its perusal, sliding down the curve of her nose before traversing her lips.  They weren’t like his.  Hers were two perfectly thin bows.  Suddenly, they twisted in frustration.  Her eyes, as gray and stormy as the sea on a cold winter’s day, instantly turned his way.  As they slammed into his brilliant blue orbs, he felt an odd piercing of his awareness, like a shaft of light had suddenly broken through the darkness of his soul.

What darkness?  There was no darkness in his soul.  So why had he experienced such a fanciful thought?

“Excuse me,” she whispered, “but do you have a pen I can borrow?  Or a pencil?”

He nodded dumbly.  She was beautiful.  Though, her visage wasn’t as perfect as he had, at first, thought.  Her nose was a little off-kilter, like someone had broken it at some point.  Still, her face was absolutely fascinating to him.  He didn’t want to look away.

The storm in her gray gaze soon sent a thundercloud crashing down on her brow.  “Just one pencil!” she snapped, her annoyance apparent to all within the first three rows.  “I’ll give it back to you at the end of class.  I promise!” 

Pinky promise?  He smiled.  He thought about murmuring the words, but she seemed distressed, so his short fingers reached for the only pencil on his desk.  Accidentally knocking it off his desk, he bent to retrieve it from the floor.  As his fingers grappled for it, he glanced up at her.

She peered down at him and suddenly huffed.  The next thing Jamin knew, a heavy book was descending upon his head.  It thwacked him on the forehead, dazing him.  “Ow!” he exclaimed as he reached up to rub his brow.

Her indignant cry of “Pervert!” collided with his resentful challenge, “What’d you do that for?”  Their words tangled with each other.  Much like their gazes.

“You were trying to look up my skirt!” she accused him hotly.  And loudly.

Embarrassed, Jamin felt the warmth of his fair complexion flushing all the way to the roots of his light blond hair as his eyes slid this way and that to ascertain if anyone else had heard her.  “I was not!” he retorted defensively.  “I dropped my pencil on the floor.  I was picking it up.”

She eyed him suspiciously before tugging her short skirt closer to her knees.  She didn’t make much progress. 

Jamin grabbed his pencil off the floor.  He refused to look at her.  Sitting up, he kept his eyes trained on the empty stage.

“Well?” her peevish tone prodded him a moment later.

“Well, what?” he murmured irritably to his side, without looking at her.

“Aren’t you going to lend me your pencil?”

“I doubt you want to touch a pencil a pervert is holding.  You might get cooties.  I wouldn’t want to be accused of assault for trying to hand you a small stick.”

She sniffed.  “Whatever.”

As she stood up to move elsewhere, a tall thin woman walked across the stage.  “Young lady, please sit down!” came her commanding voice from above Jamin.  The piercing brown eyes that accompanied that voice – and matched it quite well – invaded the rude girl’s space.  The teacher on the stage was glowering down at her.  Reluctantly, the suspicious freshman sat back down in her seat next to Jamin.  The sharp voice continued to speak, this time addressing the entire class, “This semester you will all be writing a song to perform during the last week of school.  Say hello to the person sitting next to you.  You’re looking at your partner.”

Jamin and the peeved girl eyed each other with horror.  Would the teacher know if they changed partners?

“I’m going to give you all a few minutes to get to know your partner.  I want you to ask them a few questions.  I need a couple to demonstrate.”  Her beady eyes flew to the front row.  “You two,” she pointed at Jamin and his partner, “yes, you two!  Come up here!”

Jamin groaned but not as loudly as the girl seated next to him.  Simultaneously, they stood up and headed for the stage.  In opposite directions.  They bumped smack into each other.  Startled, Jamin backed up.

“Why can’t you watch where you’re going?” the disgruntled girl fumed.

“The stairs are right there,” Jamin pointed out.  “Of course, I’m going this way.  You should be too,” he hissed.

“There are stairs right there!”  She stabbed the air in front of his nose.  “Let’s just take them.”

“Students, we don’t have all day,” their teacher’s voice interposed, separating their fencing glares.

“Whatever!” Jamin responded under his breath.  He was clearly exasperated.  He turned towards the stairs the rude girl had indicated and ascended them ahead of her.

“Guys these days!  They have no manners!  No sense of chivalry!” she muttered sotto voce, but Jamin heard every word.  His sensitive heart was deeply offended by her sentiments.  He’d always been very respectful of girls.  At least, until he’d met this one.  She herself seemed to crave a lesson in etiquette.

Crossing the stage, he came to a stop near the teacher and gazed at her expectantly.  The girl reluctantly stepped up next to him before also glancing at the teacher.  The woman was quick to instruct them, “Now, find out each other’s names.”

“Jamin.”

“Zabel.”

Their voices dueled with each other, and several people in the audience snickered.  Jamin blushed.  The color along her cheekbones increased too.  However, the teacher seemed satisfied, “Good.  So, our first couple is Jamin and Zabel.  Now find out what year of study your partner is in.”

Zabel turned towards the teacher.  “But this is a freshman level course.  Surely, everyone is a freshman.”

“I’m not,” Jamin’s voice rang out.  “I’m a senior.”

Her eyes widened.  “How many times have you failed this course?”

Piqued, he drew his eyebrows down over his nose.  “Never!” he snapped at her.  “It was just added to my major this year.”  His eyes raked her.  “But I take it you’re a freshman.”

“What gave me away?” she hissed under her breath.

“Your rudeness,” he mouthed back to her.

Their instructor was speaking over them, “Now find out what genre of music is their favorite.”

“Pop,” Jamin responded.

“Ha!” laughed Zabel.  “Of course!  I should have known.”  She’d elongated the last syllable.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jamin demanded forcefully. 

Her eyes swept fiercely over him, but before she could answer him, the teacher pierced Jamin with her disconcerting gaze.  “Find out what she likes.”

Jamin glanced pointedly at the girl.

“Classical.”

“Of course,” Jamin mocked her as they descended the stage a moment later after being dismissed by their teacher.

The fierce freshman swung around on the steps and looked up at him, fire leaping in her eyes.  “What is that supposed to mean?” she echoed.

“Just that it fits a snob like you.”

“Oh?  I’m a snob, am I?”  She huffed again and headed for her seat.  She had to endure another forty-one minutes with this guy today…and several more weeks this semester.  She put her face in her palm.  God, help her!

—

Her first impression of him had been that he was quite cute.  He possessed a lovely straight nose and plump pink lips.  Several waves of flaxen hair kissed his forehead.  But it was his eyes that had grabbed her the first time she’d glanced at him. 

Jamin had speaking eyes.  Elongated.  Narrow.  Fringed by pale curling lashes.  The vivid, cerulean depths of those pretty eyes had called to her for some reason…until a few moments later when he’d looked up her skirt.  She should have known such a gorgeous guy would be a player.  With zero respect for girls.  It was just her luck to get stuck with him as her partner this semester!

Chapter 2: Elusive – September 4 – 6, 2019

Jamin sighed, attempting to release a little tension.  He was already working on his song, but he was nervous because he was going to have to play it for a girl who hated him.  When the teacher had called them partners, she should have more aptly named them enemies, for the purpose of their partner was to critique their work and suggest improvements.  However, he fully expected that bratty girl to criticize his work and demand perfection.  

He growled.  He didn’t need that snobby little freshman telling him how to write a song.  He’d been writing songs his whole life…and decent ones for over two years now.  He knew what he was doing.  What could he possibly learn from some ignorant girl who’d spent a sum total of two days in college?

This class was so elementary.  He couldn’t believe he had to take it.  Now he would be critiquing a novice songwriter.  It was bound to go badly.  He would surely offend her again.  Not that he cared.  He was, quite simply, ready to be done already.

—

Jamin stood outside the auditorium and laughed at Evvie.  Tate’s old best friend was so amusing.  Jamin was glad he’d run into her this morning.  He’d been in a foul mood as he’d headed to his music theory class.  He wasn’t looking forward to seeing Zabel, but Evvie had brightened his day for a few minutes anyway.  He glanced down at his phone to check the time.  He didn’t want to be late for class.  Not with that drill sergeant teaching it.

—

Her dark and stormy gaze at odds with the glorious summer sky above her, Zabel stood across the campus square, watching Jamin talking to a beautiful girl.  With a perfect nose.  Of course.  He probably had lots of girlfriends.  Brainless ones…but gorgeous, nonetheless.

The lovely girl smiled at him as she pecked him on the cheek before walking away.  She glanced back at him once, murmuring something Zabel couldn’t hear, but the expression on her face arrested Zabel.  The beautiful girl looked delighted to be speaking with Jamin.  Stupid girl.  Was she just completely clueless about his real character?  Or did she just not care because he was so cute?

Zabel despised such girls.  They made the world a worse place for girls with self-respect because such undiscriminating females allowed a cute guy any territory that he desired merely to be accepted by him, which made those jerks think they had a right to everything their eyes landed on.  Which they did NOT.

She drew a deep breath, releasing it through her mouth.  Loudly.  Yet the tension stringing her whole body refused to dissipate.  She couldn’t believe she had to sit near this guy for the next hour.  She prayed it would pass quickly.  She stomped into class, plopping herself down two seats away from him.

Jamin glanced up at her.  Great.  She’d returned, and she was already fuming.  Oh, goody!  What a fun way to start off this hour!

“Did you write your song yet?” she murmured.

“Yes.”

Her head snapped up.  “What?  You already wrote it?”

He nodded, smirking at her. 

“The whole thing?”  Astonishment echoed in her tone.

He turned to her with a smug smile on his face, and the chain hanging from his earlobe caught the lights above their heads as it swung back and forth, reflecting their shine towards her.  He bobbed his flaxen head precisely once, his captivating azure eyes mocking her.  

She shook her head.  Why did she have to think those eyes were so lovely?  It didn’t matter how stunning they were or how they spoke to her.  The soul behind them was corrupt.

“Have you written yours yet?” he quizzed her derisively.

“Uh…not the whole thing.”

Yeah.  He was betting she hadn’t written any of it.  “What instrument are you going to play?” he asked, well aware that this was a simple music theory class, which meant she probably couldn’t tell the bass clef from the treble.

“The piano.”

His eyebrows flew up higher than the F note on the top of the treble clef staff.  “You play the piano?”

She nodded.  “A little.”

He flashed that haughty smile again.  He bet she wasn’t even any good.  “You just dabble around middle C then?”

“No.  I prefer to play lower than middle C.  My voice isn’t high enough to handle it well.”  She blushed.

That sudden color intrigued him.  Why was she flushing?  “You don’t like your voice?” he queried curiously.

Her gaze left his to meander across the auditorium as she thought of her fellow music majors and several theatre students too, ones she’d known in high school – and a couple of girls she’d passed on campus.  All those girls had the most beautiful, clear, high-pitched voices.  They sounded like an army of angels singing.  Then, there was her.  She sounded like a guy when she sang.  Her voice was so low.  Too low.  It was truly embarrassing.  She made a point of never singing in front of any of them.  No one had ever heard her sing.

She ignored his question, instead asking anxiously, “We don’t have to sing for this project, do we?”

Their teacher suddenly interrupted any response Jamin had been about to make, so Zabel spent the remainder of the class period worried about the possibilities.

—

At the end of class, Zabel turned towards him, quizzing him sardonically, “So, when do I get to hear this masterpiece you’ve written?”

Jamin decided to ignore the sarcastic tone of her voice.  He’d expected it, anyway.  No surprises there.  He was determined to hide even the barest shred of anxiety niggling at him, so he donned a false bravado, declaring confidently, “Anytime.  Name the day.”

“How about right now?” she sneered.  She was utterly galled by this cocky guy.  He assumed he was so much better than her just because he was a senior.  So he had three years on her…so what?  She’d been composing songs on the piano for years, long before she’d ever entered a college auditorium.  Just because she didn’t like to sing for anyone didn’t mean she lacked an amazing ear for music.  She’d just never been able to read the stuff.  She’d always played by ear.  Or by heart.  She simply put her fingers to the keys, and marvelous melodies flowed through them.

She had lied to Jamin.  She’d already written her song.  The problem was…she had no idea how to write the sheet music for it, and that was a requirement for this project.  They’d been asked not only to compose a song but also to provide its sheet music.  She groaned as she considered the daunting task ahead of her.  Had they been friends, she would have asked him for help, but Jamin was definitely not her friend.  She shuddered at such a ridiculous notion.

“Right now?” he retorted, sounding uncertain.

“Yeah.  Unless you’re too chicken.”  She wasn’t sure why she’d said such an asinine thing.  What was she, a middle school boy?

His countenance was instantly suffused with anger.  “I’m not chicken.  I just don’t have my guitar with me right now.”  He thought for a moment.  “Why don’t you meet me at five o’clock in the student union?  I can give you a lift to my house.  I’ll play for you once we get there.”

She eyed him warily.  He wanted her to get into his car with him?  A perfect stranger?  And go to his house, where they would, presumably, be alone?  Was he trying to pressure her into doing something with him?

“I have plans.”  The words slipped reflexively from her lips as a frisson of fear snaked through her.  She was oddly disappointed.  Were all guys the same?  Were they all after something she’d rather not give them?  She wasn’t about to start trusting any of them now.  Certainly not this jerk sitting in front of her.  He’d been rude to her from the very beginning…and horribly condescending.  She wasn’t about to lower her guard now.  Not for Jamin.  Not after her old boyfriend….  She shuddered.

“Hey.”  Jamin peered down at this weird girl as his brow collapsed in sudden concern.  “What’s wrong?”

“Wrong?” she echoed, returning to the moment.

“You’re looking at me like I’m going to eat you.  I’m not, you know.  I prefer cows.”

She blinked.  What was he saying?  He made absolutely no sense.

“So, when are we going to get together?  We have to turn in phase one of this project on Monday.”  Jamin was piercing her with those gorgeous blue eyes again.

“Uhhh….”  Her phone began ringing, setting off a tinkling wind chime.  Saved by the bell!  She glanced down at it.  The call was from Mallory, her friend from Chicago.  “I have to take this call.”

“Can you, at least, give me your number so I can reach you?” he growled irritably.

“Give me yours,” she responded as she answered her phone.  “Hey, Mal.  Can I call you back in a sec?  Okay.  Talk to you soon!”  She opened her list of phone contacts as she ended the call.  “What’s your number?”  She glanced at Jamin.

He rattled it off to her.

“Thanks.  Gotta go!”  She gathered her bag and purse, leapt from her seat, jogged up the aisle, and disappeared around the corner after exiting through one of the auditorium doorways.  She was still a tornado.

—

Nearly two days had passed, and Jamin still hadn’t heard from Zabel, so this time he brought his guitar to class.  They were running out of time.  Tomorrow was Saturday.  The assignment was due two days after that.  After taking his seat, he watched the clock, impatiently waiting for her to arrive.  It ticked through several minutes, and their teacher stepped onto the stage, but Zabel was still nowhere to be found.

Jamin kept his eyes on his phone for the first fifteen minutes of class, silently counting down the minutes until the end of class.  With each passing one, he grew more anxious.  What should he do if she never showed up?  This assignment was a group project.  He couldn’t very well do it by himself!

Zabel finally slipped into her seat at twenty-two minutes past the hour.  Jamin took note of the time before glancing her way.  He didn’t speak to her, though he was itching to interrogate her.  Their teacher was quite loquacious today and spent the entire hour lecturing, affording him no chance to quiz his partner.  Towards the end of class, he bent to retrieve his guitar.  When he straightened, he turned towards Zabel’s seat to ask her a question but found it empty.  Alarmed, he swiveled to look behind him.  He caught sight of her slipping out the door at the very back of the auditorium.  She was in top form today, a rolling whirlwind again.  He knew he’d never catch her.  

He felt his frustration level hitting the vaulted ceiling above his head.  She was clearly avoiding him.  She hadn’t made eye contact with him even once during class.  Nor had she spoken to him.  He released an annoyed sigh and approached his teacher.  “Miss Kwan?  I’m sorry to disturb you, but I’m finding my partner to be the elusive sort.  I have all the elements of my project for Monday done.  Except the peer review.  Can I find someone else to fill it out this time?”

Over the edge of her spectacles, she peered down at him from her imperious height.  The woman was so tall!  She addressed him crisply then, “I’m sorry, but it must be reviewed by your partner.”

His anxiety shot up several notches.  “Do you have her phone number?  She refused to give it to me.”

Miss Kwan shook her head.  “Again, I’m sorry, but I’m not allowed to pass it on to you.”

He blew out another frustrated breath.  “Thanks,” he mumbled as he turned away dejectedly.  

Was this stubborn girl – and their equally obstinate teacher – going to ruin his grade point average?

“Mr. Cameron?” Miss Kwan prompted him.  He turned back towards her as she informed him, “I’ve seen her every day at four o’clock out on the green in front of the science building.”

His face broke into a wide smile as relief spiraled through him.  “Thank you, Miss Kwan!  Thank you very much!”

Jamin knew exactly where he’d be today at four o’clock.

Chapter 3: You Leave Me Weeping – September 6, 2019

Zabel sat down on the green grass, leaned back against a tree, and closed her eyes.  This was the one time each day when she stole a few minutes for herself, away from the mocking eyes of the boys as their gazes flicked over, first, her broken face and, second, her fleshy body.  What they didn’t know was that she’d gained the weight on purpose.  To keep them away.  Not that it always worked.  She thought of Jamin’s roaming eyes…and shuddered.  

She’d managed to avoid him for the past two days.  The problem was that they needed to evaluate each other’s progress before Monday.  She’d planned to tackle that problem in class today, but she’d been running late this morning.  Then the teacher had lectured throughout the entire period, even ending the class late.  Zabel’s tutoring session had started exactly five minutes after the end of their class period, which meant that she’d had to fly to her tutor’s side without speaking to Jamin.  She’d been doubleminded about this turn of events.  On the one hand, she’d been relieved that she hadn’t had to speak to him this morning.  On the other hand, she desired to ace the project, and she couldn’t do that without his input.  Now she was left with only one option.  To call him.

She picked up her phone to check the time.  It was nearly four o’clock.  She pulled up her contact list…and stared at his name.  Jamin.  She groaned.  Perhaps she could borrow one of her classmates’ phones to call him.  Then he wouldn’t have her number.

“Hey.”

Startled, she jumped, closing her phone abruptly as her gaze collided with his.  How had Jamin known where she was hiding?  Great.  This verdant spot was her refuge.  If he continued to seek her out here, she’d have to give it up.  She grimaced at the thought of such a sacrifice.

“Why do you hate me so much?” he quizzed her as she scowled at him.  For the umpteenth time.

“I don’t hate you.”  But it wasn’t true.  She did.  She despised him…for looking up her skirt…for trying to lure her to his house…and for having eyes that persisted in being so beautiful.  Like the sky on a bright summer’s day.  But they were lying eyes.  Hiding a monster.

“Whatever,” he blew out an annoyed breath before plopping his guitar case down next to her.  “Look.  I know you don’t want to work with me, but I need the easy A this class should be, so I’ll just play my song for you, and you can fill out the review form.  Then if you want, I’ll come listen to your song.  Wherever.  Whenever.  And I’ll fill out your form.”

She nodded.  Dumbfounded.  He seemed serious about his grade.  He opened his case, pulling out his guitar.  She stared at it.  It was the most exquisite guitar she’d ever seen.  It had a magnificent design carved into it.  Her eyes traced it in admiration.  “That’s a gorgeous guitar,” she breathed.  “Where did you get it?”

“It was my father’s,” he murmured almost silently.  She had to strain to hear him.  He pulled the guitar onto his lap and began to strum the strings a few times before tuning it. 

“Look,” she commented irritably, “I don’t have all day.”  He was already encroaching on her alone time, and she resented it.  She did.  “It doesn’t have to be perfect,” she grumbled.

“Okay, okay.  I just wanted to make sure it was tuned so you don’t dock my grade for being off tune.”

She grunted before leaning back against the tree trunk and closing her eyes.  He played a few chords, warming up, then the most captivating music she’d ever heard flowing from someone’s fingertips washed over her.  She was drowning in that mesmerizing melody.  Gasping for air.  It was astounding!  She found herself breathless.  She dared not open her eyes lest he see how deeply his music was affecting her now.  She also wanted to block out all else but those lovely chords.  She dove headfirst into that stunning music, immersing herself in its uplifting waters until she was overcome.  Who needed to breathe anyway?  Breathing was overrated.

Nervously, Jamin glanced up and was instantly transfixed by the expression of utter rapture on her countenance.  His fingers continued to play the melody his heart knew, but his gaze roved fervently over her beautiful face.  It seemed to him that her crooked nose served only to enhance her beauty.  It drew attention to the perfection of her stormy eyes and her lovely lips.  He savored that beauty while he finished playing his song. 

When he was done, he put his guitar inside its case before latching it shut.  He then reached inside his backpack and pulled out the critique form.  He held it out to her, but she was still hiding behind her eyelids.  “Hey!  Did you fall asleep?” he asked brusquely.

She opened her eyes, and Jamin noticed a sheen glazing them.  Were those tears flooding her eyes?  Had his music brought her to tears?  Of pity?  Or disgust?  Or something deeper…?  Something he’d dreamed of…. 

He bit his lip before demanding softly, “Can you just fill out this form right now?  Then I won’t bug you anymore.  At least, not until I have to.”

She reached for it.  Her fingers brushed his, and they each jumped away from the other, but her hand carried the paper with it.  She dug through her purse, searching for a pen.

“Let me guess,” Jamin intoned dryly.  “You need a pen.”

She didn’t even look at him as she began to withdraw items from her little bag.  A wad of unused Kleenex.  A packet of chewing gum.  A sticker – where had that come from?  A piece of hard candy.  “I’m sure I have one in here.  Somewhere.”  She was always losing them!  Where did they go?  She was certain that someday the lining would fall out of her purse, and she’d discover a pile of pens at the very bottom of her bag.  But today….

“Here.”  He held one out to her.  

Glancing up at him, she grasped it, sighing in exasperation as she proceeded to fill out the critique.  Then she folded it in half and handed it, along with his pen, back to him.  She grabbed the pile of junk in her lap, tossing it into her purse before jumping up.  She swung her backpack over her shoulder.  “See you around.”

“Hey!”

She stopped; though, she didn’t look back.

“When are you going to play your song for me?”

She peered down at him.  “Put your stuff away, and you can follow me right now.”  She didn’t want him to read her critique until she was long gone.  

Releasing a longsuffering sigh, he shoved the paper and pen into his backpack before tossing it over his shoulder and bending to pick up his guitar case.  “Where to?”

—

A few minutes later, Jamin followed Zabel into an empty music room.  A baby grand piano sat quietly in the far corner.  She made a beeline for it.  Jamin found a chair and sat down on it.  He watched her intently as she dropped her backpack onto the floor before seating herself on the polished bench in front of the impressive instrument.

She sat, her spine as straight as a ramrod, her fingers curled, poised over the keys.  An air of expectancy suddenly flooded the room.  Several seconds later, Jamin’s mouth fell open as her fingers coaxed the most fascinating melody from those keys.  He sat, again transfixed, as he gaped at her in stupefaction.  She didn’t play the piano a little.  The girl was a…virtuoso!  Or was it virtuosa?  This puny freshman had mastered that enormous instrument!  She didn’t belong in Music Theory any more than he did.  He was struck dumb.  Had he ever heard anyone play that beautifully?  Maybe one person.  Evvie’s brother, Yoon.  The man was a master at the piano.  But so was this bitter girl.  In fact, Jamin could almost like her when she was caressing the keys of a piano.  How strange.

––

She blocked him out.  It was the only way she could play.  She had learned to block them all out.  To concentrate simply on the keys…and the sounds flowing from them.  Then she could open her heart and let the melodies pour out.  Her fingers chased one another up and down that keyboard, chords exploding from their tips.  All the while, her eyes remained closed.  Only then could she pretend she was alone with the piano.  Just her and her first love.  Her only love.

But she wouldn’t think such sobering thoughts as she played.  She would think only of how much she loved the tinkling of the piano keys as well as their smooth cool texture beneath her fingertips.  How many hot summer days had she spent locked in an air-conditioned room while her fingers caressed those ivory and ebony keys?  The piano had been her one solace.  Her only true friend.  It had never betrayed her.  It consistently gave back all she put into it, unlike the people around her.  Her only fulfilling relationship was this one right here.  With a keyboard…and some hidden strings.

She inhaled deeply as she played the closing bars.  Then her fingers stilled on the keys…and she steeled herself for his inevitable reaction.  She’d played for only one other boy.  Him.  But she’d blotted him out.  Out of her heart.  Out of her memory.  At least, she’d tried to.  But memories were more difficult to let go of than feelings were.

Here it comes.  Here’s where he begins to ridicule every little thing.  He’ll pick at this and poke at that until he’s unraveled my entire song.  And robbed the joy from it.

Reaching into her bag, she yanked the review form from her binder.  She ran over to him, tossing it into his lap.  She wasn’t about to give him the opportunity to destroy her joy in this song.  “Fill out the form.  Just leave it on the chair.  I’ll be back for it.  I need to go to the restroom.  You don’t need to wait around for me.”

Then she was gone, spinning around and dashing through the doorway to disappear somewhere down the hall.  Watching from a faraway corner, Zabel stayed away until she saw Jamin open the door and glance around before walking down the hallway towards the exit.  He’d waited fifteen minutes for her to return before finally giving up.  Or…he’d spent a quarter of an hour critiquing her.

—

She’d never returned.  He felt oddly disappointed.  Why did he want to tell her how amazing she was?  That snobby little know-it-all.  That snooty freshman.  Yet.  He’d wanted to tell her that she had a rare gift that made him want to weep with joy.  He’d actually written that in the comments section of the review form.  He grimaced now as he thought of it.  Way to be dramatic, Jamin.  Would she think he was poking fun at her?  Or would she take his words at face value?

As he headed for his car, he suddenly remembered that she’d also filled out a paper for him.  He reached inside his backpack to withdraw her critique…and was astounded by what she had written.  She’d given him top marks.  In every single category.  The comments section boasted only three words: I love it.  Her compliment washed over him with a pleasing warmth.  Unexpected.  Unbelievable.  All the sweeter for the shock by which those three little words stunned him.  Zabel, the suspicious girl who loathed him, loved his music.  Why did he feel like crying?  

He’d never really shared his songs with anyone.  Except Tate, who was always urging him to play his music for others, but Jamin had just figured Tate was being kind.  Yet maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t been simply kind.  Maybe he’d truly meant those words.  One thing Jamin knew for sure.  Zabel wasn’t just being kind.  Cranky contrary girl that she was, she would have looked for an excuse to sting him, not to shower him with praise.

Zabel loved his music.

Did her words mean even more to him because he knew she despised him?  She wasn’t biased in his favor but rather against it.  Yet, despite her prejudice, she’d still adored the melody flowing from his fingers into his guitar strings.  Yep.  He was happy.  Jamin found himself sporting a grin that nothing would erase for the remainder of the day.

—

Zabel picked up the paper off the chair he’d occupied and sat down in it herself.  She trembled as her eyes glanced fearfully down at the review form.  His handwriting was pleasing, a very neat penmanship that was completely legible.  He’d given her the highest marks in every category, save one.  Volume.  He’d remarked that he’d like it to be a bit louder.  She grimaced.  Of course, he would!  He listened to pop music, not classical!

However, it was his comment at the bottom of the page that blew her away, making her burst into tears.  She’d been steeling herself against his criticism, yet she’d done nothing to prepare herself for his appreciation.  He’d penned five short sentences.  I have no words.  You are a….

What?  She couldn’t bring herself to read it for a few moments.  She closed her eyes to blot it out, along with all the other criticism she’d received over many years, but she finally forced herself to read the next word.  After all, her teacher was going to see it.  Zabel might as well find out how bad it was before she handed it over to Miss Kwan.

…virtuoso.  You left me breathless.  You have a rare gift.  It makes me want to weep with joy.

Those tender words did strange things to her heart.  At first, she simply stared at them in shock.  Disbelieving.  The instant she’d finally absorbed them, a sob escaped her lips as twin tears slipped down her cheeks.  Somebody loved her music.  Someone – a boy whom she’d thought disliked her – believed she was a gifted musician.  A virtuoso, even!

Stunned, Zabel sat in that deserted classroom for several minutes as tears rolled down her cheeks.  This time, for a beautiful reason.  For that classroom might have been abandoned, but she was no longer lonely.  Jamin’s words were keeping her company, their beauty filling up the space around her…and combating the dark voices which usually plagued her mind, robbing her of peace.  Tonight, at least, she would carry a little serenity home with her.

Chapter 4: The Ties that Bind – September 9, 2019

Jamin approached Monday’s class differently from the last two.  He was finding it hard to dislike Zabel now that she had praised his song.  He also felt oddly nervous.  Was it because of the words he’d allowed to flow out of him onto that piece of paper she’d be handing in today?

He repeatedly shifted in his seat during the first twenty minutes of class, often glancing towards the door at the back of the auditorium.  He was unable to concentrate on the lecture because Zabel had yet to arrive.  He kept anticipating the moment when he would finally have to face her.  However, he needn’t have been anxious, for she never appeared in class that morning.  When it came to its eventual end, he approached the teacher curiously.  “Miss Kwan, did Zabel hand in her project?”

She shook her head.  

He frowned.  Today’s project counted for ten percent of their overall grade.  “Do you know why she’s not here?” he pressed her again.

“I do not, Mr. Cameron.”  She looked vaguely concerned herself.

Jamin made an instantaneous – and compassionate – decision.  “Can I have another review form?  I want to fill it out for her again.  Will you allow me a couple minutes to do so – and to turn it in for her?”  After a second passed between them, he added, “She filled mine out for me.”

Eyeing him with interest, the teacher nodded her head and crossed the room to pull a sheet of paper from her bag before handing it to him.  Hastily, he scrawled his critique of Zabel’s song before giving it to their teacher.

“I hope Zabel recognizes what a good friend she has in you,” Miss Kwan murmured.  “You do realize that this piece of paper is all I required of you today.  You just singlehandedly saved her semester grade.”

His eyes grew round as excitement flooded his voice.  “Her music is beautiful, Miss Kwan!  When you hear it, it’ll blow you away.”

Her brow ruffling with care, she glanced at Zabel’s empty seat.  “I hope I get to hear it then.”

Jamin furrowed his own forehead.  She hoped she’d get to hear it?  Why wouldn’t she?  Surely, Zabel would return to class!

He attended the rest of his classes that day, but he was distracted throughout the lectures.  He remained troubled by Zabel’s absence.  Something just didn’t feel right.  At a quarter to four, he crossed the campus to see if she was in her usual spot.  Fifteen minutes later, he was disappointed to see it still empty.  He began to despair.  He had no idea how to find her. 

Suddenly, another girl appeared.  Her wispy white hair drew his attention.  His eyes widened in surprise.  She was either an old woman or an albino, but she didn’t move like a grandmother.  She ran up to the trunk of Zabel’s oak tree and glanced around.  Judging by her youthful countenance, she wasn’t a day over twenty.  Standing a few feet from her, Jamin studied her with interest.  “Are you looking for someone?” he asked inquisitively.

She looked at him, and he noted that, behind her glasses, her eyes appeared pink.  She nodded.  “My friend, Bella.”

His expression fell.  “Oh,” he muttered, kicking the dirt with the toe of his shoe.

“What’s wrong?” she quizzed him, noting his disappointed demeanor.  She wandered closer to him, and he realized that her irises were not actually pink but were instead a very light shade of blue.

He answered her with a sigh, “I’m looking for my friend too.  I was hoping maybe you knew where she was.”

She puckered her brow as she watched him.  “What’s her name?”

“Zabel,” he murmured as his mind raced.  Why was this girl always disappearing?  She’d blown into his life like a tornado, but now she’d disappeared without a trace, not even leaving behind a path of destruction for him to follow.  Although, come to think of it, she’d almost bombed her grade with her unexplained departure.

“Zabel?!  That’s who I’m looking for!” the girl gasped abruptly, drawing Jamin’s eyes back to her friendly face.

He blinked in confusion.  “Wait.  Zabel is Bella?”

“Yes, Bella’s her nickname.”  She narrowed her eyes at him.  “Why are you looking for her?”  She now eyed him carefully, piquing his curiosity.

“She didn’t show up to class this morning, and we had a big project due.”

Her eyes grew round.  “She didn’t come to her other classes either!  I haven’t seen her all day.  We usually hang out, eat lunch together…and she didn’t respond to any of my texts.  I’m worried.  This isn’t like her.  I want to go check on her, but I have a study group in ten minutes.”

Jamin’s gaze sharpened.  “Do you know where she lives?”

The girl blinked before bobbing her head.  

“Please…would you give me her address?  I’ll go check on her.  We’re partners in Music Theory.  I turned her project in for her today, so I hope I saved her grade.”

She assessed him cautiously for a moment.  “All right,” she finally capitulated.  “You promise me you’re a good guy?”  She cocked one white eyebrow at him as she drew up the same corner of her mouth, puckering that side of her face doubtfully.

Jamin’s eyes grew round, as round as they could achieve anyway.  Guilelessly, he nodded.  “I’m really worried about her too.  I have this…bad feeling.”

That decided her.  “So do I.  All right.  Can I see your phone?”  She held out her hand expectantly, and he gave her his phone.  She typed Zabel’s name and address into his list of contacts, handing him his phone before turning away, but then she pivoted sharply towards him.  “I’m Estelle, by the way.”

“Jamin.”

They smiled at each other before parting ways, but then she spun towards him once more.  “Can I see your phone again?  I’ll give you my number too.  Will you text me if you find out anything?”

“Yeah, sure.”  He handed her his phone one more time.  Once she’d given it back to him, he turned on his heel, headed for his car.  He had a girl to find.

—

Her neighborhood was not a good one.  Jamin drove slowly through it, searching for her apartment building.  He finally found the dilapidated structure, but it took him several more minutes to find a parking space.  After locking his car, he approached the building with trepidation.  He rode the elevator to the thirteenth floor, following its hallway to 1306.  Her apartment number.

He stood outside her door for a moment.  Nervous.  His heart was pounding now.  From dread.  He’d had this terrible sense of foreboding all day long, ever since she’d failed to appear in class.  That cloak of apprehension had grown heavier as he’d approached her apartment.  Seeing the conditions in which she lived…did not assuage his misgivings.  He was now plagued by the horrid fear that something bad had happened to Zabel…and to her wonderful fingers.

Swallowing back that burst of terror, he rapped on the door.  But he got no response.  He knocked again.  Still, nothing.  On an impulse, perhaps spurred by his anxiety, he reached out to grasp the doorknob before twisting it slowly to the side.  He was astounded to find it unlocked.  Stealthily, he pushed the door open.  Who left their door unbolted in this neighborhood?

He stuck his head through the opening, calling softly, “Zabel?”  He fell silent, listening for her voice.  He thought he heard a groan, so he stepped into the apartment, closing the door quietly behind him, and followed the sound.  He was shocked a moment later to find her lying on a couch.  Her eyes were both closed, but it was the state of those eyes that horrified him.  Someone had blackened them both.  Her face was pinched with pain.  “Zabel!” he cried out as he flew across the room towards her.  He flung himself down onto his knees before her.  “Zabel,” he whispered brokenly, “what happened?”

“I got between him and his bottle of beer,” she moaned.

“Who?” Jamin queried, perplexed.

“Baba.”  Her father had done this to her?

Jamin’s heart sank.  “Where is he?”

“Passed out in his room.  Though, he’ll probably wake up soon.”

Jamin’s eyes slid over her beautiful face, a face that had been battered by the man who should’ve loved her most in all the world.  Her father should have been the one protecting her from harm, not causing it.  Jamin’s tender heart couldn’t take it.  Her whole face was a swollen mass of blue and purple bruises.  Even her lip had been split.  A horrible thought struck him then.  Had her father – at some point – broken her nose?  Why that why it was crooked? 

“Zabel, where is your room?”

She pointed to a little room behind her, and Jamin whispered, “I’m going to get you out of here.  Let me just grab a few of your things first.”  He stood up.  He felt very uncomfortable, but he had to get her out of here.  He couldn’t just leave her vulnerable to that man’s punishing fists again, so he walked into her room and found her school bag, which seemed to have all her books inside it.  He glanced around.  He didn’t see any other books or papers lying about.  

He did, however, find another backpack.  Sheepishly, he opened the bottom drawer of an old dresser before pulling out shirts, shorts, and jeans.  He stuffed them into the backpack.  He felt most uneasy about opening her underwear drawer, but he wasn’t being a pervert.  It was just a fact of life that people wore underwear, so he grabbed a handful of them as he tried not to think about what he was doing.  Or what he was touching.  Then he withdrew several pairs of socks, cramming them into her bag.  When he was satisfied that he’d gathered enough clothes for the week, he added her jacket to the top of the pile, breathing a sigh of relief that the backpack was so big.  He zipped it shut before lifting both bags and heading for the living room.

He squatted down next to her.  “Zabel, please come with me.  I’m terrified he’s going to hurt you again.”  There was nothing left of her face that the man hadn’t broken, was there?  Unless next time it was her bones.  A horrifying picture of Zabel with a broken jaw bubbled up in his imagination, and he nearly dashed for the door, dragging her behind him.

She cracked open one bloodshot eye to peer dazedly up at him.  Her lips twisted bitterly, reopening one of her wounds.  “It’s okay, Jamin.  I know there’s no such thing as a knight in shining armor.  You don’t need to be mine.”

Her harsh words hurt his heart.  “Please, Zabel,” he whispered fiercely as he tossed a furtive glance towards her father’s room.  “Please…come home with me.”  He reached out to touch her hand, sliding his along the top of hers, his fingers curling around her palm.  “Please,” he beseeched her again, “I packed a bag of your clothes and got your school bag.  Do you have any other books or papers lying around your room?  Anything else you need?”

She shook her head.  “No, it’s all in my bag.  He…he hates…a mess.”

Jamin studied her poor face.  Apparently, her father didn’t mind making a mess.  “Come on,” Jamin tugged lightly on her hand.  “Please.”

Those beautiful blue eyes were pleading with her.  This boy had played such mesmerizing music for her.  Could the heart that produced such stunning beauty truly be all that deceptive or dangerous?  More treacherous than her own baba?  She suddenly doubted it greatly.  “Do you live alone?” she quizzed him then, still apprehensive despite her musings.

He shook his head.  “I live with my grandmother.  Above her secondhand shop.  We have a spare room.  It’s tiny, but you can stay there.  No one will bother you.”  What she didn’t know in this moment wouldn’t hurt her.

She gazed into his eyes.  Eyes which, a week ago, she’d found so cold, an icy blue.  Eyes which, today, were flooded with warmth, their brilliant azure appearing to be her sanctuary.  His gorgeous eyes were like a bright cerulean sky in summer, carrying not one speck of cloud, no echo of thunder, promising only laughter and liberty.  What a contrast to her own gray orbs!  Her storm-tossed eyes, full of terrifying waves and howling winds, lightning strikes and rolling thunder, could never be calmed by the sweet summer sky found in his own.  Could they?  It seemed to her that what she read in Jamin’s gaze now was true.  He was full of sunshine and rainbows…conviction enough to rescue the abused…and the faith to try to move a mountain.  Both his eyes and his music spoke of a pure heart hidden beneath that once-tart surface.  Had she so terribly misjudged him?

She had.  She must have, for his beautiful eyes were now brimming with such compassion that looking into them made her want to weep.  She hadn’t even wept when her father had repeatedly punched her, beating her black and blue.  So what was it about this gentle boy here – on his knees before her – that made her want to throw herself against his chest and bawl like a baby?

“Please,” he whispered again.

Suddenly, a loud moan erupted from the room opposite hers.  Her tempest-tossed eyes, full of black terror now, flew to Jamin’s.  He grabbed her backpack, stuffed full of clothes.  Her bookbag was already clinging to his shoulders.  His other hand pulled her up off the couch, and she hissed, clenching her teeth, as his eyes immediately flew to her face.  She cradled her ribs as she bent over.  “Go!” she breathed desperately.  

As tenderly as he dared, he drew her out the door towards the elevator and, when it arrived, inside it to travel past twelve interminable floors before finally finding the freedom of the ground floor entryway.  Then they traversed an entire city block to reach his car.  She winced the whole way there, but they made it.  Unpursued.

Once they were safely settled inside his car and he was driving her out of that scary neighborhood – and away from that even more terrifying apartment – he glanced at her to ask the question that had been burning in his heart for several minutes, “Did he break your ribs?”

“Maybe,” she mumbled, her face pale.  “He kicked me twice.”

It was Jamin’s turn to wince.  “I’m taking you to a clinic.”

“No!” she sounded purely petrified.

Jamin glanced at her sharply.

She quickly explained, “They’ll want my name.  They’ll want to know who did this to me.  Just…stop at a pharmacy and get some tape to wrap my ribs.”

His gaze turned sorrowful.  She sounded like a pro at treating this condition.  How often had she suffered physical violence at the hands – and feet – of her own father?  No wonder she’d suspected Jamin of ulterior motives!  If her own father so mistreated her, what man wasn’t a threat?

Chapter 5: An Angel of Light – September 9, 2019

He stopped to buy the tape – and some painkillers and ice packs – before driving all the way home.  To his dear Nan.  She, of course, was busy serving customers, so after parking his car at the back of the adjoining parking lot, he snuck through the back door of her little shop and crept up its staircase to their apartment, tugging Zabel along with him.  They took the steps slowly.  She was really hurting. 

They entered the closest bedroom, and Jamin shut the door.  He set her bags and his own backpack down onto the floor next to her new bed after releasing her hand.  Reluctantly.  Then he bent his beautiful blue eyes upon her as he considered her wounds.  “Would you…would you let me help you bandage your ribs?  I realize that’s asking a lot because you’ll have to lift your shirt….”

Everything hurt so much right now that she wasn’t sure she cared if he saw her in her bra, so she nodded.  She was even willing to endure his hands on her skin if he could rob her of a bit of this excruciating pain.  She just wanted it to stop.  Or, at least, to lessen.  However, it increased a moment later as she attempted to pull her shirt up over her head, causing her to groan.

“Stop!” Jamin admonished her sharply.  “Here.”  He lifted her shirt up slightly, exposing her chubby midriff, before twisting her T-shirt until he could tie it into a knot that revealed just her bare tummy.  He bit back a smile of satisfaction: he’d prevented her from feeling further pain while also maintaining her modesty.  He reached for the kinesiology tape in his pocket.  As he withdrew it, he glanced at her for instructions.  “Can you give me any pointers?”

Speaking haltingly, she explained what to do.  Delicately – with infinite gentleness – he began to tape her ribs.  His warm fingers slid slowly up her side, across her bare skin, as he pulled the tape around her body to cover the wound.  His tender touch was surprisingly soothing, distracting her from the worst of the pain.  When he finally finished, she inhaled hesitantly, but the pain was so much better that she felt instantaneous relief flooding her.  She peered up at him gratefully.  “Thank you, Jamin.  That’s better.  I don’t know why you’re helping me, but thank you.”  She winced suddenly as she sat down abruptly on his bed.

“You should take some ibuprofen.  Let me grab you a glass of water.”  He spun around, quickly leaving her alone.

She closed her eyes, biting back a whimper.  She hadn’t lied to him.  Her ribs did hurt less now, but she still felt like her body was one giant bruise.  She grabbed a pillow, propping it up against the wall at the head of the bed.  Then she scooted closer to it.  Drawing her feet up onto the bed, she leaned slowly back until her spine was resting against that cushioned wall.  Then she straightened out her legs.  She sighed, thankful that she could, at least, sit propped up on his bed without too much discomfort…as long as she ignored the throbbing in her head.  There was no tape that could help a bruised face.  However, everything seemed to hurt less when she avoided movement, so she allowed her eyes to flutter shut again as she began breathing shallowly….

Just as she’d begun to relax, Jamin returned carrying a glass of water.  She heard him twisting the cap off the medicine bottle…then the tinkling of pills shaken against one another…and, finally, his voice hesitantly addressing her in a whisper, “Zabel?  Are you awake?  I’ve got your ibuprofen.”

Painstakingly, she cracked open one swollen eye before lifting her arm to reach for the pills.  As tension flooded her countenance, a groan escaped her lips.  Jamin rushed to stop her, rebuking her softly, “Put your arm down!  I can feed you the pills.”

“Thank you,” she muttered as he held two tiny brown pills up to her mouth.  His fingers brushed her lips as he awkwardly popped the pills into her mouth before holding the glass of water up to her lips and tipping it towards her mouth.  She took a tiny sip and managed to swallow the pills.  She glanced up at him, hovering over her.  Apprehension instantly struck her countenance.  “Please don’t tell anyone,” she suddenly begged him.  “No one knows….”  Before he could respond, a deep valley appeared between her eyebrows, and she demanded perplexedly, “How did you find me?”

“Your friend…Estelle.”  Jamin took a step back, setting the glass down onto the nightstand.  “I ran into her at your favorite spot.  She was worried sick about you, but she had study group, so she couldn’t go look for you.”  He shrugged nonchalantly then as he explained, “So I offered to check on you.”  His voice trailed off as their eyes met in a flash of lightning that startled them both.  “She gave me your address,” he mumbled as he stared at her, stunned by that odd something that had just arced between them.

“Don’t tell her.  Please.”

He scowled.  “You can’t exactly hide two black eyes, Zabel.”  

“Sure, I can.  Sunglasses.”  Suddenly alarmed, she speared him with an anxious gaze.  “Where’s my phone?”

“I didn’t see it in your bedroom.”

“Did you find my purse?”

He nodded.  “It was in your backpack.”

“Then my phone must be in my backpack.”  She slipped gingerly off the bed.  Groaning, she bent to retrieve her backpack.

“Zabel!  What are you doing?” he exclaimed, flustered.  She was clearly causing herself pain.  “What do you need?  I’ll get it for you.”

She stood up.  “My purse.  It should be in my backpack.”  Suddenly dizzy, she reached out to clutch the nightstand as she drew a deep breath to steady herself.  As her lungs expanded, she winced.  “With my books,” she added breathlessly.

“It is,” Jamin replied.  Squatting down, he began to rummage through her bag.  He pulled out her purse, handing it to her.

She checked its pocket, sighing in relief as she located her phone, then she tossed her purse towards her backpack.

Jamin watched her in concern, a tiny tick forming to the side of his mouth.  “Zabel, why won’t you tell anyone?  It’s nothing to be ashamed of.  It’s not your fault.”

She shook her head as tears filled her eyes.  “I shouldn’t have gone into the kitchen when I did.  I know better.  He was already enraged about something that happened at work.  I should’ve just stayed in my room…but I thought he might want dinner,” her voice wavered, and two fat tears rolled down her cheeks.

Jamin couldn’t take it.  He reached out as gently as he could and wrapped his right arm around her shoulder, tenderly drawing her close to his heart.  Their chests weren’t touching.  He didn’t want to brush up against those aching ribs.  Tentatively, he lifted his left arm to wrap it softly around her other shoulder.  She stood awkwardly within the circle of his arms as he instantly tried to soothe her with kind words, “It’s not your fault, Zabel.  You were just trying to do something nice for him.  You did nothing wrong.  Nothing to deserve being beaten like this.  Real men don’t even kick their dogs.  Let alone their kids,” he grumbled, fury at her father bubbling up in his heart.  “Your dad is the one with the problem.  Not you.  You’re,” he searched for the right word, “…precious.”

She reached up then and planted her forearms against his chest, her fingertips resting on his shoulders.  She stood, still awkward, clinging to him as she tilted her head to bury her nose below the crook of his neck.  Quietly, continuing to absorb his sweet words, she sobbed against his collarbone.  If Jamin was devious, he was also an excellent actor.  If he was a player, all he was getting for his efforts was a wet shirt.  If he was…a sweetheart, then she might have just made a friend.  She truly hoped so.  She dearly needed a friend right now.

Jamin held her close.  He buried his face in her hair and inhaled.  Lemons?  Her scalp was releasing the faint scent of lemons.  It wasn’t strong enough to be a perfume.  A shampoo, perhaps?

He wanted to tighten his hold on her, but he was afraid he would hurt her, so he kept his arms loosely encircling her.  More than anything, he longed to comfort her.  Resting the very top of her forehead – which had somehow evaded her father’s punishment – against Jamin’s collarbone, careful not to apply any pressure to her bruises, she wept against his chest for a long time that afternoon.  But once she grew quiet, Jamin asked her another question that had occurred to him a few minutes ago.  “Have you had anything to eat today?”

She shook her head, which was still pillowed against his collarbone.  She felt unpleasantly self-conscious in his arms.  She bet she outweighed Jamin, even though he was several inches taller than her.  He was a lightweight, but she was not.  And their posture was still awkward.  He was but lightly touching her shoulders and back as she leaned tenderly against him, her forearms separating her body from his.  However, despite all these uncomfortable circumstances, she still found herself relaxing because, although she was embarrassed, he was making her feel safe right now.  “Jamin, I’m sorry,” she suddenly murmured.  Her voice was muffled by his shirt.

“What?” 

“I’m sorry I misjudged you that first day in class.  You were just trying to be nice, but I misunderstood you.  I’m…sorry.”

“Never mind,” he responded instantly.  “It’s forgotten.  Water under the bridge and all that.”  Jamin supposed that if his father had beaten the crud out of him, he would have suspected – and feared – the whole world too.  “I just want to make sure you’re safe, Zabel.  You can stay with us for as long as you want.  But….”

Alarmed, she glanced up at him.

“I have to tell Nan the truth.  I can’t lie to my grandma.  Besides, she’ll take one look at you, and she’ll know someone hurt you.”

Sighing, she nodded her head.  “Okay.  Just…don’t tell her it was my dad.”  She paused a moment before

adding, “Thanks, Jamin.”  She started weeping softly again, her tears leaving silent tracks down her cheeks.  She rubbed her nose against his shirt.

“Hey,” he whispered into her ear, “you hungry?  Can I get you something to eat?”

She smiled tremulously.  “I am hungry.”  She lifted her head to gaze up at him.

His countenance brightened.  “I turned your project in today.  To Miss Kwan.”

Her face flooded with uncommon tenderness.  “You did?”

He nodded.  

She stood on tiptoe and planted her bruised lips against his cheek.  “Jamin, you are so good to me.  Thank you!”  She sighed with relief.  “That was the only class I had a major assignment due in today.  The others I can make up.  You just saved my grade.”  She peered up into his bright blue eyes.  “What can I help you with?”

He appeared thoughtful for a moment, his pale red lips twisting into a pout before replying, “My song.  You can listen to me practice it tonight.  And tell me if I need to tweak anything.”

She tittered softly.  “Jamin, your song was already perfect.”

“I haven’t sung you the lyrics yet.”

She quirked a dark eyebrow at him.  “Have you written them?”

He shook his head.

She smiled.  “They’ll come to you.”

They already are.  “Does your song have lyrics?” he asked as he gazed down into those beautiful silver orbs of hers.  For the first time, they seemed tranquil – no longer weather-beaten – like the still waters of a private pond reflecting a pale winter sky.

She nodded.

“Can I – will you sing it for me?”

Her face flooded with trepidation, and the peace in her gaze instantly shattered, as though someone had tossed a boulder into that serene pond, disturbing its quiet.  “No!”  She pulled away from him.  “No.  I don’t sing for people.  My voice – it’s not good.”

“I don’t believe you,” he murmured quietly.

Defensively, she glared at him as she clenched her fists.  “It doesn’t matter if you believe me or not.  It’s true.  It’s not good.  I can’t sing high notes – only those in a lower register.”

“So?  That doesn’t mean it’s bad.  Please,” he sounded like a small boy whining now, wheedling a piece of candy from his mother.  His cerulean eyes joined in the act, beseeching her to acquiesce to his demand.  “Would you reconsider singing for me?  I promise not to laugh.”

Their eyes dueled.  Finally, she caved, “I’ll think about it.”

Jamin beamed at her, then he drew a deep breath before announcing, just as his stomach rumbled loudly, “I’m going to get us some food.  I’ll be back.  Feel free to lie down.  Or get settled.  Whatever you want.”  Curiously, he glanced back at her after nearly tripping over her bags.  “Did you find your phone?”

She nodded.  “Yeah.”

“Oh, good!” he gasped with relief as he bent to retrieve his own backpack from the floor.  He didn’t want her to go back to her apartment.  Her father scared him.

––

After leaving Zabel alone in his bedroom, Jamin stepped into the compact living room, dropping his backpack onto the floor before plopping down onto the couch.  It would be his bed for the foreseeable future.  He’d lied to Zabel.  He and his grandma didn’t have a spare bedroom.  This tiny apartment boasted a small kitchenette, a bathroom, two tiny bedrooms, and a minuscule living room.  They barely had space enough to breathe here, but at least their home was clean and comfortable…and in a safe neighborhood.  That last was more than he could’ve said about Zabel’s apartment.  Of course, given her father’s propensity toward violence, even had their neighborhood been safe, their apartment still wouldn’t have been. 

Jamin bent to untie his shoelaces before removing his shoes.  Tossing them under the coffee table, he stood up and headed for the kitchen.  It was time to make dinner….

“Jamin?” Zabel greeted him a few minutes later when he stepped into his bedroom again, this time carrying two plates laden with food.

“Hmm?”  He glanced her way as he walked towards her.

“Is this your room?”  Her eyes slid around its walls before meeting his gaze.

He stopped in his tracks.  Gulping, he drew his eyes away from her.  They traversed the room, spying his guitar case in the corner, his desk just a couple feet to its left, his nightstand, the bed.  As he slowly lifted his gaze to meet hers again, he smirked, retorting softly, “I suppose it was the posters on the wall that gave me away, eh?”

She giggled.  “I didn’t peg you as a Justin Bieber fan.”

He cocked one dark blond eyebrow at her.  “You didn’t?  But I told you I love pop music.”

She nodded.  “Yes, you did.  It was an oversight on my part, I suppose,” she sighed.

He chuckled, holding out a plate to her.  “Hungry?”

Ignoring the food, she held his gaze, her gray eyes steady.  “You don’t have a spare bedroom, do you?”

He chewed on his lip as his eyes slid away from hers again.  He cleared his throat…and set her plate on the nightstand.

“Just where exactly are you going to sleep?” she quizzed him, making him uneasy.

He harrumphed again.  “On the couch,” he finally muttered.

“Jamin!” she gasped.  “You cannot give up your room for me.”

Suddenly flaming, his fiery eyes clashed with hers.  “Why not?” he demanded hotly.  “It’s mine.  I’m free to give it to whoever I want.”

Her broken lips trembling, she breathed menacingly, “Jamin….”

But his eyes would brook no argument.  “Zabel….” 

A tense moment simmered between them.  Jamin ended it with a soft reply, “You’re hurting.  I’ll be perfectly fine on the couch, but it is arguably not as comfortable as my bed.  Your body doesn’t need any more challenges today.  I really don’t mind sleeping on the couch.  Besides,” he grinned crookedly at her then, stealing her heart, “I’ll have the TV all to myself.  I can even watch it at three in the morning if I want.”

She eyed him silently for several seconds before a tiny smile teased the corners of her purpled lips.  “I cannot believe I ever thought you were unkind,” she mumbled in a small voice.

“Looks can be deceiving, eh?” he quipped, that lopsided smile stretching wider.

But as she gazed at him, she mused on his appearance…and the tender heart beneath it.  They complemented one another.  The boy looked like an angel of light, and he possessed a heart to match.

Chapter 6: Beautiful Rose – September 9, 2019

Halfway through dinner, Jamin heard Nan climbing up the back staircase.  He glanced at Zabel as she sat at the head of his bed chewing on a bite of her sandwich.  “That’s my grandma coming up the steps.  I’m going to get her some dinner.  I’ll be back soon.”

He was true to his word.  He reappeared in the doorway ten minutes later.  With Nan in tow.  “Zabel, this is my grandma, Nan.  Nan, this is my friend, Zabel.”

A very concerned woman peeked her head through the doorway.  Her merciful blue eyes studied Zabel’s broken face.  “Oh, my poor dear!” she burst out as she rushed into the room.  Zabel could see where Jamin had gotten his stunning eyes…from the same place he’d inherited his compassion.  Unlike Jamin’s flaxen hair, the woman’s short soft curls were pure white, perhaps like her grandson’s wavy locks would be fifty years hence.  They tumbled across her forehead as she bent forward to reach out a hand towards Zabel’s own fingers which were lying on the bed to her left.  Nan’s soft fingertips curled gently around Zabel’s hand, giving her fingers a slight squeeze.  “My darling girl, if you need anything, you come straight to me, all right?” 

Before Zabel could answer, Nan’s cerulean eyes grew round, and she plunged onward, “Oh!  I think I have just the thing!  It’s a cream,” she eyed the girl’s face carefully, “that should help the bruises heal quickly,” her gaze met Zabel’s then, “and it should help ease the pain too.”  She cocked her head to the side like an inquisitive little bird.  “Who did this to you, my dear?”  Of course, Nan already knew the answer to that question.  Her grandson hadn’t been forthcoming about that particular detail, but it didn’t take a genius to figure it out.  Still, she waited patiently for the girl to answer.

Zabel swallowed.  “I’d rather not say.”

“You needn’t protect him, sweetheart,” the woman’s voice was soft…yet unyielding.

“What?”  Bewildered, Zabel gazed up at Nan fearfully before her gaze snapped to Jamin’s.  “You promised!”

But he simply shook his head.  “I didn’t tell her, Zabel.  I swear.”

Nan continued speaking as though neither of them had spoken.  “If he’s man enough to beat a tiny wisp of a girl, he’s man enough to own up to the consequences,” she declared staunchly.

A tiny wisp of a girl?  Zabel swallowed.  “I don’t want to––”

“Make him own up to what he’s done?” Nan queried quietly.

Zabel inhaled sharply before wincing just as sharply.  She bent over and moaned.

Alarm flew across Nan’s countenance.  “Oh, dear!  I didn’t mean to upset you, child.  Of course, you don’t feel good enough to deal with any of these details right now.  You need rest tonight, that’s what you need.”  She bobbed her head as if convincing herself of this too.  “You’re safe now, darling.  He can’t touch you here.  Rest assured.”  She patted Zabel’s hand before instructing her, “Finish your dinner.  Then take a good long nap.  Things will look better in the morning,” she insisted bracingly.

Zabel sent her a flimsy smile, and Nan cast a particular glance at her grandson before exiting the room, but Jamin knew what that glance meant.  He smiled at Zabel and reached for her glass.  “I’m going to get you some more water,” he remarked before following his grandmother. 

When he found her in the kitchen a moment later, she bent towards him, whispering, “Once she’s lying down and has her eyes closed, snap a couple pictures of her face.”

He frowned.  “Why, Nan?”

“For the police.”

Startled, he started to argue, “Nan—”

“Don’t you ‘Nan’ me, young man.  The only way to make sure that man doesn’t touch her again is to report him to the police.  We’ll do all we can to keep her safe here.  But she needs to file a report – at the very least.”

“You think she should press charges against him.”

“Darn right, I do.”  She lanced him with those piercing blue eyes, so like his own.  “Don’t you?”

He gulped.  His Nan was right.  As usual.

––

Zabel was falling asleep sitting up.  Jamin could tell she was in pain too.  Her face was twisted with it.  “Zabel, lie down,” he suggested as he reached for her empty plate.  “I’ll take your dishes to the kitchen.  You look…tired.  Why don’t you take a nap?”

Tired was an understatement.  Zabel was exhausted.  She didn’t even have enough fight left in her to argue with him.  As he left his room, she grabbed the other pillow, shoving it inside the gap behind her back.  Jamin didn’t realize it, but she needed to sleep in a semi-reclining position for the sake of her ribs.  She closed her eyes, prepared to rest.  But a few seconds later, her eyelids flew open.  For the darkness was descending again….

––

After peeling off his shirt and hanging it over the back of the couch, Jamin cast his slender frame down onto its welcoming cushions before reaching for his notebook and pen.  He fanned his face.  It was so hot in here!  He opened the book and frowned as he gazed down at the empty page.  He chewed on the end of his pen as he considered the task before him.  After a few seconds, he tossed the notebook and pen onto the coffee table.  He drew his slim legs up onto the couch and scooted back to lie down.  He lay there gazing up at the cream-colored popcorn ceiling…and examined his feelings for Zabel.  They were rapidly changing.  She wasn’t the fierce creature he’d met last week.  She was a girl who had been deeply hurt.  Traumatized.  Repeatedly.

Over the past few days, he’d been struggling to write lyrics for his song, mostly because irritation had been his driving force around Zabel last week.  Until she’d played the piano for him.  His feelings had begun to shift then.  They’d taken a violent U-turn when he’d read her assessment of his own song.  And then earlier today, when Jamin had discovered her secret pain – when he’d found her beautiful face beaten to a purple pulp – her father’s ill treatment of her had forever severed Jamin from any feelings of annoyance he’d been fighting.

Something sweet and tender towards her was blooming in his heart now.  Her kind words about his song had fallen like fruitful seeds into the soil of that heart, and today her tears had watered that soil.  The sun of her appreciation had shone down upon that ground, causing those seeds to sprout, and her apology had killed the weeds of bitterness she’d planted there last Monday.  Now Jamin had a happy garden blossoming in his heart.  But for one thing.  His fear for her.

Would her father come looking for her?  If he found her, what would he do to her?  Could Jamin keep her safe…here with him and Nan?  Nan was right.  He needed to accompany Zabel to the police station, to help her file a report against her father.  When she was ready.  But even once that was done, there would be hard work left to do.  Zabel had suffered intense trauma.  She needed deep healing.  Jamin was prepared to stand beside her the whole way.  But…would his friendship be enough to steer Zabel safely through the turbulent waters threatening to overwhelm her soul?

Out of the depths of his emotions that night, as he lay alone on the couch, staring up at that ceiling, words began to bubble up from his blossoming heart.  He grabbed his phone and began to sing into Voice Mementos.

A barren garden I came upon,

Covered in weeds, broken seeds.

No one had tended it for so long,

Trailing branches, fruitless patches. 

Like a desert, its soil was arid,

Dried out petals, crackling leaves,

Sunburnt greenery, its air acrid,

Shriveled tree trunks, everyone leaves.

Then he worked on the second verse, to match the pattern of the first.  After about an hour, he began to ponder the chorus.  He didn’t think it would come easily, but as he thought of Zabel, the words simply flowed from his heart in a sweeping song of such passionate grace that Jamin felt a tear sliding down his cheek.  

He wondered if she was sleeping.  He was so full of emotion right now that he didn’t want to wait to share his song with her.  When he finished the recording, he slipped from the couch and pulled his T-shirt on.  Then he wandered down the hallway towards his bedroom, the hem of his shorts nearly hitting his knee.

He stopped outside her doorway and craned his ears towards her.  Was that sound someone sobbing?  He pressed his ear to the door.  It was definitely the sound of weeping!  His heart released a sharp pang.  No wonder he’d felt impressed to come see her!  He rapped very lightly on her door before opening it a fraction.  He closed his eyes to maintain her privacy as he called softly to her, “Zabel?  Can I come in?”

Zabel suddenly stilled in mid-sob.  What was that noise?  She glanced up.  Straight into Jamin’s sweet face.  

“Zabel, may I come in?” his voice sounded quietly.  His eyes were closed.

She smiled as she wiped the tears from her cheeks.  “It’s all right, Jamin.  You can come in.  You can open your eyes too.”  She sniffled.

His eyelids slid open as he turned to close the door firmly behind him.  “Can I play my song for you now?” he whispered as he bent to retrieve his guitar case from the corner of his room.

She frowned.  “Won’t you disturb your grandmother?”

He shook his head.  “She’s accustomed to me playing at night.  It’s never bothered her.”  He grinned suddenly.  “Or perhaps I’m just her favorite, and she simply tolerates it.”

“No one could simply tolerate your music.”  A tiny smile appeared to tease her bruised lips.  “I’d love to hear your song.”

“First….”  He set his guitar case down before approaching her.  He grabbed a Kleenex from its box on the nightstand next to his bed, brandishing it before him as though he were handing his sword over to a queen.  Again, the corners of her mouth lifted as she reached out to accept his offering.  She wiped her face and blew her nose while he grabbed a chair and settled his guitar on his lap.

After a few moments, he asked, “Are you ready?”

“More than that.  I’m giddy with anticipation.”  Her gray eyes lit up, turning silver.

He laughed.  Her choice of words was quite amusing sometimes. 

He closed his eyes as he began to play the familiar strains of his most beautiful song, but then the voice of an angel joined those strumming chords, and Zabel almost fell off his bed.  Jamin’s voice stunned her!  He’d apparently been given the high-pitched voice she’d coveted.  His voice alone was music to her ears.  Soothing and lovely. 

Her eyes feasted upon his expressive face.  Every emotion he was feeling played out across his glowing countenance as he sang his song for her.  Then the words began to soak into her heart, moving it, and tears streamed down her face.  Once more.

“A barren garden I came upon,

Covered in weeds, broken seeds.

No one had tended it for so long,

Trailing branches, fruitless patches. 

“Like a desert, its soil was arid,

Dried out petals, crackling leaves,

Sunburnt greenery, its air acrid,

Shriveled tree trunks, everyone leaves.”

He strummed a few chords of the interlude while he vocalized in that heavenly voice before beginning the chorus.

“But in its center, there blooms a rose.

Where did it come from?  Nobody knows.

But in its soft heart, there thrives a rose. 

How can it live still?  Somehow it grows.

“Beautiful rose, do not give up.

Wonderful rose, lift your head up.

Beautiful rose, drink in the rain.

Wonderful rose, I’ll steal your pain.

“Beautiful rose, bask in the sun.

Wonderful rose, my precious one.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks as Jamin once again played a short, captivating interlude.  The melody was so haunting, utterly gripping.  Then he continued, singing the second verse in that sweet voice of his.  Like liquid comfort to her parched soul.

“Desolate garden, I stumbled on,

Home to possums, dead blossoms.

No one singing it their cheering song.

No bubbling brook, no second look.

“Hot sun destroying this wilderness,

Cracked fountain, a dried-up well.

None to embrace, nor give it a kiss.

None to any its great love tell.”

She blew her nose during the next interlude, for the tears were still flowing in a mighty torrent out of her eyes to stain her cheeks, but then Jamin’s stunning voice picked up the chorus again.  And this time she knew he was singing it to her, for he opened his glorious eyes and stared deeply into hers.

“But in its center, there blooms a rose.

Where did it come from?  Nobody knows.

But in its soft heart, there thrives a rose. 

How can it live still?  Somehow it grows.

“Beautiful rose, do not give up.

Wonderful rose, lift your head up.

Beautiful rose, drink in the rain.

Wonderful rose, I’ll steal your pain.

“Beautiful rose, soak in the sun.

Wonderful rose, my precious one.”

He ended the song with a mesmerizing bridge.  Short but sweet.  It echoed in her heart even when Jamin ceased to sing.  “Don’t give in.  Let me in.  My precious rose.  Beautiful rose.”

Jamin stopped singing, but his fingers kept strumming the closing bars of his song, and his beautiful blue eyes kept probing hers.  Promising something wonderful.

Don’t give in.  Let me in.  My precious rose.  Beautiful rose….

Chapter 7: Sweet Breath – September 9 – 10, 2019

Tears began to slip down her face again.  “Jamin!  You’re making me cry!” she rebuked him, embarrassed.

“Why?” he frowned, furrowing his brow.  He set his guitar back in its case.  “Is it that bad?”

“No!  It’s that beautiful.”  She began to sob.

For a moment, he felt intensely uncomfortable and sat unmoving, unsure what to do, but then, overcome by her tears, he crossed the room, skirting her queen-sized bed as he approached its empty side.  He sat down next to her near the head of the bed.  “I’m sorry, Zabel.  I didn’t mean to make you cry.  I wanted to encourage you.”

“You did.  That’s why I’m crying.”  She sniffled and then hiccupped.  “That’s the most beautiful gift anyone has ever given me!”  She turned towards him before throwing her arms around him, which was quite awkward since they were sitting side by side on her bed, but Jamin remained undaunted.  Slipping his arms loosely around her, he drew her close to him.  Gently.  He didn’t want to hurt her damaged body.  

Breathing in the sweet fragrance of lemons, he simply held her for a little while, yet even he was uncomfortable in that position, so he was certain she must be too.  He drew away from her before asking, “Zabel, you can say no, but can we lie down so I can be near you…more comfortably?”

She shook her head, and his heart fell.  “Actually, I was going to ask you for help.  I need to sit propped up against the wall tonight.  I can recline a little, but because of my ribs, I can’t lie flat.  Do you have any more pillows?  Maybe we could prop them up against the wall, and you could sit next to me?  You can move closer to me.”

A bright smile instantly illuminated his countenance.  She wasn’t pushing him away!  “Yes!” he gasped.  “I’ll be right back!” 

He leapt off the bed and tore out of the room, leaving Zabel to giggle over his enthusiasm.  Even that warmed her heart.  She felt the glow of his smile – and his exuberance – tunneling deep into her heart, and she fought another tear as it spread out to enlighten her whole body.

He soon returned with several couch cushions.  “Will these work?” he asked, but he didn’t wait for her to respond, instead heading straight for her.  “Can you scoot forward a bit?  I’ll try to position them so they’re comfortable for you.”  After a little maneuvering, he managed to make her as comfortable as possible. 

Then she patted the bed next to her.  “Come sit down.”  Obeying her command, he crossed to the other side of the bed, positioning the remaining pillows to make himself comfortable before he sat down next to her.  “You can move closer,” she whispered.

He inched closer to her, rolling over onto his left side to face her.  He tucked his left arm up against his side to avoid touching her, but the back of his hand still brushed the outside of her thigh.  She turned her head until she was looking at him.  Their faces were less than a foot apart now.  “Are you hurting?” he whispered.  “I mean…from this position?”  He wanted to hold her, but he was afraid to put any pressure on her body. 

“A little,” she answered truthfully, “but it’s better than before.”  Her eyes remained trained on his face.

“Could I…put my head on your shoulder?” he asked hesitantly as he set his right arm against his own hip, his fingers splayed across the side of his thigh.  He was too timid to rest it across her waist.  He might hurt her. 

“Okay,” she breathed before he gingerly rested his temple against the corner of her right shoulder.

“Am I hurting you?” he breathed in concern. 

“No.”

Now glancing down at her right arm, he realized how close it was to his own.  He took courage then, reaching down to curl his fingers around her hand.  “Is this okay?” he murmured, his breath stirring the skin under her chin as he peered up at her.

“Mm-hmm.”  He could almost hear a smile in her voice.

Jamin began to sing his song over her again.  Very softly.  He sang the first verse before stopping to whisper, “I think your heart must have felt like a withered garden.”  He recalled the barren apartment from which he’d rescued her, “Like a dry wasteland.  Like all the good things in your life burned up…but I know that deep within that charred garden, there blooms a rose.  That’s the real you, Zabel.  And no amount of wind…no storm…no fire…no flood…can destroy that tough girl.  You are resilient.  You will overcome everything life has thrown at you.”

She began to weep as she rested her chin against the top of his head.  He lifted her hand and brushed his lips across her fingers.  She felt that tender touch, and something inside of her burst open.  Had anyone ever touched her like that?  Indescribably gently.  Had anybody ever made her feel the way Jamin was right now?

“You are that beautiful rose, Zabel.  My precious one.”  As he drew her hand back down to her side, he opened his mouth again, and this time his pleasing melody flowed from it, accompanied by the words he’d penned for her.

“But in its center, there blooms a rose.

Where did it come from?  Nobody knows.

But in its soft heart, there thrives a rose. 

How can it live still?  Somehow it grows.

“Beautiful rose, do not give up.

Wonderful rose, lift your head up.

Beautiful rose, drink in the rain.

Wonderful rose, I’ll steal your pain.”

He sang the last two lines, “Beautiful rose, bask in the sun.  Wonderful rose, my precious one,” then he breathed, “Promise me, Zabel.  Promise me you won’t give up.  Promise me you’ll lift your head up.  Drink in the rain.  I meant it.  I will steal your pain.  Let me, please.” 

He lifted his face then, and his lips brushed her cheek.  Tenderly.  Like the kiss of a butterfly’s wings.  Her pain had been making his heart roil in his chest ever since he’d found her broken on her couch earlier today.  The sight of her, battered, had shattered something inside of him.  He could not fathom how anyone could be so cruel to another human being, let alone how a father could do that to his own daughter.  Blacken her eyes.  Break her bones.  Mar her beauty.  It broke Jamin’s gentle heart, and he began to weep against her cheek.  A tiny sob escaped his mouth a few moments later. 

Zabel stilled.  As his tears fell, hers suddenly dried up.  What was happening?  Was Jamin weeping over her pain?  She turned her head, watching as tear after tear leaked out from between his closed eyelids and slid down his adorable face.  His chest was convulsing now too.  Then a sob broke loose from his lips.  She stared in wonder at him.  No one had ever wept over her secret pain.  Nobody had ever come to rescue her from her father.  Not until today.  Not until…Jamin.

She was eighteen years old.  Her father had beaten her throughout her entire life.  She’d learned early on that no one cared.  Her screams had shattered the stillness of the apartment building, yet no one had come for her.  Her body had thudded when it had hit the wall, but nobody had listened and intervened.  Her sobs had saturated the airwaves, yet no one had stepped between her and her father to shield her from his wrath.  So she’d grown silent.  Locking her pain deep down inside her soul.  It had leaked out only in desperate moments through bursts of temper and icy glares.

Yet…somehow, the desperate cry of her heart had reached Jamin’s ears.  She had found someone who cared.  Somebody had come for her.  At long last.  Someone had listened to her silent cries and intervened.  Jamin had stepped between her and her father.  She’d finally found someone who was broken by the things that broke her.  Jamin.  The sweetest name she’d ever heard.

But she couldn’t take it.  She’d withstood years of her own abuse, yet she couldn’t tolerate his brokenness.  Somehow Jamin’s pain hurt her more than her own pain did…as though the broken shards of his heart had pierced her own, causing them to bleed.  Perhaps their blood was pooling together to make of them one heart.  She didn’t understand, but she felt closer to him than she’d ever felt to anyone. 

She reached up, cupping his cheek with her hand.  Her thumb brushed delicately across his soft skin, sliding through the wet tracks of his compassion for her, the moisture of his broken heart.  She leaned over until her face was hovering near his own, then she bent to plant her lips against his cheek.  She remained there, her bruised mouth branding him.  

Jamin ceased to breathe.  Was Zabel kissing him?  

He couldn’t have been more astounded had she punched him in the face.  Actually, that would’ve been more expected than this.  He lay utterly frozen, not certain what he should do.  Finally, he simply gave in to that sweet pressure on his cheek.  He relaxed, reveling in the touch of those soft lips…and instantly remembered how attracted to her he’d been that first day.  Before she’d hit him over the head with her book.

He swallowed.  His heart was pounding inside his chest.  He could feel his blood rushing to his limbs…and to his head, making him giddy.  But reclining on a bed with her was dangerous, so he didn’t move.  He didn’t respond.  He just enjoyed the feel of her lips against his cheek…and the flow of her breath across his skin…and the subtle scent of her.  There it was again.  Lemons.  He could hear the sweet sound of her breathing, the gentle inhalation and exhalation of air that sustained her…the promise that she’d be here tomorrow morning when he woke up thinking about her…and remembering tonight.  When his heart had been joined to a girl he’d known for only a week.

––

Eventually, her lips slid off his cheek.  She leaned her forehead against his for a moment before she settled back against her pillow.  His fingers caressed hers again.  Her heart was thundering inside her chest.  She couldn’t believe what she was going to ask him, but she was terrified of being alone.  Usually, she was fearful of being alone with a man, but there was something about Jamin that made her heart feel safe.  And tonight, she needed him.  His presence comforted her.

She whispered into the dim light surrounding them, “Every time I close my eyes…I see him coming at me.  I feel his boot cracking my ribs…his fist in my eye.”  She released a tiny sob, and her voice wavered.  “My eyes are so swollen, I can barely crack them open, but…I can’t close my eyes.  I’m terrified every time I do.”  She was trembling now.  “I relive the whole scene over again.  I need to keep the light on.  Do you think it’s possible to sleep with your eyes open?”  Silence embraced them as she paused a moment before confessing, “Before you came into the room, I kept imagining him trudging up the stairs, barging into this room, and kicking me again.  But…as soon as you came through the door…light filled this room, and I felt…safe.”  That difficult admission finally brought her to her request.  “Will you – will you stay with me tonight?”  She drew an unsteady breath.  “Can you stay here…next to me?  Like this?  I feel safe with you here.”  A sob escaped her again before she rushed to add, “I know it’s a lot to ask.  If it’s too uncomfortable, you could move the cushions and lie flat.  I just…need you here with me.”

His fingers tightened infinitesimally around hers, yet just enough that they both felt that subtle pressure.  She snuggled closer to him, then she shivered.  Jamin reached down to pull the covers up over them both.  “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured into her ear.  “I’ll hold your hand all night long, and we’ll keep the light on.”  He smiled at her, announcing, “I recorded my song on my phone.  I can play it on a loop.  If you think it will help you sleep.”

His sweet offer touched her heart, and she would’ve smiled at him, but her bottom lip was really hurting where it had been split open by her father’s fist.  “It will, Jamin.  I love your song.” 

Jamin chewed on his own perfectly healthy bottom lip for a moment, gathering his courage.  “The thing is, Zabel, it feels too personal to sing it for our class, so…I think I’m going to write another song for class.”

Her heart melted.  Was it possible for her to love him already?  Because she felt like she did.  She wanted to kiss those plump lips of his and draw him even closer to her heart.  “It’s up to you,” she whispered.  “It’s your song.  No one would know you wrote it for me.”

“I have another idea, Zabel.  Is it okay if I talk?  If I share my thoughts with you tonight?  Or would you rather sleep?”

She shook her head.  “No.  Honestly, Jamin, I’m in so much pain right now that it’s hard to sleep.  Please…talk to me.  The timbre of your voice is comforting.  What’s your idea?”

“What if we asked our teacher if we could collaborate on a song?  What if we played your song?  I could write some lyrics and maybe add a bridge or two.  You could play the piano, and I could play the guitar.  And we could alternate singing the lines.”

“Wait.”  She went cold on the inside.  A winter wind was whipping around her soul, chilling her to the bone.  “We have to sing?  In front of the class?”

“Well, she didn’t say it’s a requirement, but I thought it was expected.”  He could feel her tensing.  “What’s wrong?”

“I told you.  I don’t sing for anyone.”  Her voice was a testy tendril of air.

“I hope someday that changes.”  The bed creaked beneath him as he suddenly shifted his weight.

Bewildered, she quizzed him, “What do you mean?”

“I hope someday you sing for me.”  He lifted his head and ran his nose through her hair.  Her dark brown locks brushed her shoulders.  They were silky soft and straight as a board.  She possessed no bangs, so her hair softly framed her face when it was hanging down like it was tonight.  “What do you think, Zabel?  If Miss Kwan is okay with it, would you want to write a song with me?”

“I would love to write a song with you.  Especially if we have to sing it in front of the class.  At least, I wouldn’t be alone.”

“You’ll never be alone again, Zabel,” he murmured sweetly.

Her hand was resting in his.  Did she know that her thumb kept tracing a heart pattern over his thumb?  It would normally be driving him nuts, but there was something about the sweet brush of that digit that was filling him with delight tonight.  “I like holding your hand, Zabel.  I…I’ve never been this close to a girl.”

“W-what?”  Astonishment echoed in her voice.

“It’s true.”

“You’ve never had a girlfriend?”  She couldn’t believe it.  What about that girl out in the quad the other day?

“Nope.  Not even close.  I don’t think girls notice me,” he muttered self-consciously.

She knew that was not true.  “What about the girl you were talking to before class the other day?  The one that kissed your cheek.”

Her amazement now leapt into his voice, “A girl kissed my cheek?  Where was I?  Why don’t I remember this?”  Then the light bulb came on.  “Oh!  That was Evvie!  She’s engaged to my best friend’s brother.  We’re just friends.  I’ve never been even remotely interested in her.  Not my type at all.”

“What is your type?” she asked in a tiny voice.

You.  Zabel, you’re my type.  “Tough on the outside.  But soft on the inside.  Resilient.  Brilliant.  Talented.  Beautiful.”  He spoke every adjective he could think of to describe her.  “Fearless.”

Her heart sank.  None of those things sounded like her.  Except maybe the first one.  “I hope you find the one your heart longs for, Jamin.  Someone with all those amazing qualities.”  Her voice, utterly disheartened, was but a mere wisp of a whisper now.

She’d misunderstood him, and his words had hurt her.  He could feel her withdrawing from him, and he hated it.  He didn’t want her to pull away.  He wanted her to draw near to him.  Like he had drawn near to her.  He was, after all, lying in bed with her.  “Zabel.  You do realize I’ve never lain in bed with a girl before, right?  Or held her in my arms.”  He thought of earlier when she’d wept against his chest as they’d stood together next to his bed.  “Or stroked her fingers with my finger.  Or buried my face in her hair.  Or written her a song.”  She didn’t say anything.  So Jamin did.  “I have found someone with those qualities.  All of them.  Every…single…one.”

Her heart was sliding further down that sad slope.  “Oh.”  He could hear the weight of her disappointment in that tiny puff of air escaping her lips.

He smiled.  “It’s you, Zabel.  You’re the girl I was describing.”

“What?”  Her uneasy heart started to pound.  “I am?”  She nearly sat straight up in shock.  She couldn’t wrap her mind around his words.  Jamin thought she was resilient?  Brilliant?  Fearless?  Talented?  Beautiful?  Her voice was still just a breath, “But I’m not brilliant.  Or talented.  Or fearless.  Or beautiful.”  She knew she wasn’t beautiful. 

“Zabel, that’s just not true.  You are beautiful.  So beautiful.”  He sounded like he meant those kind words.

“You – you don’t think I’m fat?”  She knew she was overweight. 

Surprised, he quirked his eyebrows at the wall behind his head.  “No.  You’re not fat, Zabel.  What on earth makes you think that?”

She buried her face against his hair.  Could she hide from him?  Would the bed do her a favor and swallow her whole right now?  “I gained weight.  On purpose,” she admitted, chagrinned.

“I don’t understand.”

“To protect myself.”

Jamin glanced up at her through the blond locks that had fallen across his brow.  He had no idea what she was talking about.  “How could you protect yourself by gaining weight?”

“To protect myself from boys.  So they wouldn’t notice me.  Or ask me out.”

“What?  Why?”  He drew his eyebrows together as he squinted up at her cheek.

She buried her nose in his flaxen hair as she spoke to the top of his head, “I had a boyfriend once.  He wasn’t very nice to me.  He pressured me to do stuff with him.  The last time I refused, he slapped me in the face.  I guess – I guess he hit me just right…because he broke my nose.  I’m sure you’ve noticed that my nose is crooked.  I used to look okay.  But I know I’m ugly now.”  A little sob shook her.

“Zabel, you’re not ugly,” Jamin spoke in a soft yet firm voice.  “You mean because your nose isn’t straight?”  She nodded as she wept into his hair.  He was getting wet.  “Zabel, I think your nose gives your face character.  It’s not unpleasing.  You really are a beautiful girl.  I noticed you on our first day in class.  I was – I was instantly attracted to you.”

She lifted her head in shock.  “What?  You were?”

He nodded.  “But then you bashed me over the head with your book.”  His lips twisted wryly.

She flushed as she remembered how attracted she’d been to him that day too.  “I thought you were cute,” she confessed shyly.

He lifted one intrigued eyebrow as a smile spread slowly across his face.  “You did?”

“Yeah.  But then you made me mad.  Well, I mean, I got mad at you.  When I thought you were trying to look up my skirt.”

He chuckled ruefully.  “I remember.  So does my forehead.”  He rubbed it as he recalled the pain that had exploded throughout his head as her book had come into hard contact with it.

“I’m sorry, Jamin.  I’m sorry I took my fear out on you.  You didn’t deserve that.”

“It’s okay.  You had good reason to be afraid.  I mean, all you’ve suffered has taught you to fear men.  I get it.  But I’m – I’m not like that, Zabel.  I would never raise my hand against you.  Or try to force you to do something you don’t want to do.”

“I know that, Jamin.  Don’t you think I know that now?” she whispered.

He quirked the corners of his lips.  “I hope so.”

“I do,” she asserted definitively.  “You’re sweet.  You’re gentle.  I don’t believe you could hurt me.  But you are the first man I’ve ever felt that way about.  And that I’ve felt safe around.”

That was a very sad statement.  He didn’t know what else to say, so he fell silent.  She yawned and rested her cheek against the top of his head.  Her eyes fluttered shut.  A few moments later, her breathing deepened, and he was happy to realize that she’d fallen asleep.  Snuggled against him.

––

“Jamin, want to work on writing our song together?”

“What if Miss Kwan won’t accept it?”

Zabel shrugged.  “Let’s do it anyway.”

They were eating breakfast together, and Jamin could feel the shift that had occurred between them last night.  What was it about sharing the same air with someone while you both slept?  Their level of intimacy had increased ten-fold, yet they hadn’t done anything.  They hadn’t even kissed.  He’d just held her hand.  And surrounded her with his comforting presence.  But it was more than that.  They’d also bared their souls to each other last night as they’d snuggled together in his bed, his hand clinging to hers.  She’d opened her heart to him, revealing some of its very painful secrets.  And they’d both admitted their true feelings to each other.

Now he smiled at her.  Then, slowly, so as not to startle her, he lifted his hand to tenderly brush a dark lock of her hair behind her ear.  She glanced up at him in surprise, but there was, thankfully, no fear in her face.  “I’d like that,” Jamin responded happily.  “Are you going to come to school with me today?”

She nodded.  “I’ll wear my sunglasses…and a ton of makeup.  And walk slowly.”  Her ribs still ached.

“I have a break from noon to two.  Want to meet me in the piano room then?”

Zabel nodded.  “All my classes are over by noon.”

“Perfect.”  Jamin had to resist the very strong urge to lean over and kiss her lips.  He almost did it without even thinking about it.

—

Outside across the quad, the bell of the clock tower struck the twelfth hour, announcing lunchtime.  Jamin and Zabel, however, were not headed to the cafeteria.  “I know the inspiration for our song,” he asserted as he opened the door to the piano room, his gesturing hand encouraging her to slip inside ahead of him. 

She turned back towards him.  “What?”

“Your name.”

“What?”  Why were her eyes filling with tears?  He hadn’t even said anything yet.

He peered down at her backpack as he set it onto the floor.  He’d insisted upon carrying it for her today.  He’d even walked her to all her classes.  “I saw your notebook earlier.  Your name.”  He glanced back up at her.  “It’s Zabel Perle Leblanc, right?”  She nodded, utterly unenlightened.  “But your friend called you Bella.”

Another nod.  “Yeah, I go by that sometimes.”

“Well…Bella means beautiful in Italian, and Perle means pearl in French, doesn’t it?  So that means Bella Perle means Beautiful Pearl, right?”

She shook her head, dispersing several sudden bright bursts of emotion, and one of those stubborn tears slid down her cheek.  Was Jamin drawing yet another analogy between her and something beautiful?

Jamin saw that tear and reached up to tenderly brush it away.  He leaned towards her.  “You’re not just my beautiful rose.  You’re my beautiful gem too.”

More tears leaked out to plummet to their deaths upon the classroom floor.  

Jamin stepped even closer to her…until he was standing directly in front of her, leaving not even an inch between their chests.  He moved until his cheek was resting tenderly against hers, then he breathed into her ear, melting every single fiber of her soul, “I mean it, Zabel.  You are my beautiful pearl.  You are so beautiful.  So beautiful.  So beautiful.  Bella.”  Each sentiment liberated another tear, and they flowed, unimpeded by embarrassment or bitterness.  Jamin had broken through her walls last night, and she felt like putty in his hands today.  His words were simply undoing her.  

So was the brush of his cheek against hers…and the sweet breeze of his breath flowing over her ear.  Suddenly, his hand slipped around her waist to press against her lower back.  Gently, he drew her closer.    He swallowed.  Then he turned his face towards her.  The bridge of his nose brushed against hers.  “I…I love you, Bella,” he breathed the words over her lips, his breath tickling her skin and awakening so many tender emotions in her soul. 

She began to weep again.  He pulled her closer, and she pillowed her forehead against his chest.  “No one’s ever said that to me before,” she whispered a while later.

“Not even your mom?” he whispered, horrified. 

Jamin could not imagine never having heard anyone say, “I love you,” to him.  He could not imagine any existence without those precious words.  He told his friends often that he loved them, but something was different with Zabel.  His feelings went deeper…and flowed wider.  They grew taller, and they swam longer.  He felt like there was no end to his love for her.  He was even willing to face her father, if it came down to that.  

What so drew Jamin to her?  Was it the aching vulnerability that had lain hidden beneath her brittle façade until he’d gently unearthed it last night?  Was it her deep and unspoken need for his affection?  Or the knowledge that she had been horribly abused her whole life?  Something had made his heart susceptible to hers.  Jamin now wanted to wrap himself around her and become her shield.  To shelter her with his presence until his peace overwhelmed her, and she could finally rest.  Free from fear.

“I don’t really remember Maman,” Zabel remarked softly.  “She disappeared when I was five years old.”

“What!?” Jamin gasped, aghast.  “What do you mean, she disappeared?”

“I don’t really know.  I just remember that one day she was there, and the next she was gone.  And she never came back.  My father told me that she left us.”

Jamin buried his face in the crook of her neck, and a sob escaped him a few moments later.  “No, no.”  He shook his head.  “Bella, what pain have you not endured?”  His voice was breaking.

She felt oddly calm in the face of his obvious distress.  “It’s all right, Jamin.”

“No,” responded that gentle soul.  “None of this is all right.  You should have had a mother.  You should have been told you were loved.  Repeatedly.  You should have had a father who used his strong arms to shelter you and his big feet to carry you while you were borne on his shoulders, far above the cruel world.  You should have been so loved, Bella.  I’m so sorry that you weren’t.  It breaks my heart.”  His lips found her forehead, brushing featherlight kisses from one side to the other.  “I love you, Bella.”  He kissed her cheek.  Once more, he whispered, “I love you.”  Burying his face in the crook of her shoulder again, he simply breathed on her for a little while.  “I’m here, Bella.  I’m not going anywhere.”  He lifted his head to stare down at her.

“I believe you, Jamin.”  She gazed up at him, at his gorgeous face and his magnificent blue eyes.  Those speaking eyes.  They were saying so much more today than they had the morning they first met.

Chapter 8: My Beautiful Jewel – September 10, 2019

After a little while, they sat down, she at the piano, and he with his guitar, and they began to play together.  The music, its melody, its rhythm, its harmony…they all flowed nearly effortlessly, as though Jamin and Zabel had been made for each other, as perhaps the piano and the guitar had been fashioned to waltz together.  The chords cascading from his fingers into the strings of his guitar complemented each stroke of her piano keys.

“My beautiful jewel,” Jamin began to sing, “I searched all the treasure troves – treasure chests?”  Questioning his choice of words, he composed lyrics aloud as she continued to play the piano.  He played around with more words as they practiced together, but nothing satisfied him.  He groaned, muttering, “I have so much I want to say to you, Bella.  My heart is overflowing.”

“Say that then,” she whispered as their eyes locked.  Opening his mouth, he began to sing in that clear sweet voice that always wrapped around her, reaching deep down inside of her to pull her towards him.  A lone tear slid down her cheek.  “Jamin, was your voice woven into my soul when I was born?  It feels like you’re drawing me to you when you sing to me.”

“I am,” he smiled.  “Come here,” he breathed.

Her eyes collided with his.  Embarrassed, she blushed.  “Jamin…we’re at school.”

“Alas, we are,” he sighed.  “But someday I want you to sit on my lap.  If you’re comfortable with that,” he hastened to add.  He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.  That was for sure.

A smile teased her lips.  “Someday.  Maybe,” she added with a quirk of her dark eyebrow.

He smiled at her before following her earlier suggestion.  He turned on Voice Mementos to capture anything good he stumbled upon.  Strumming his guitar again, he began to sing in those dulcet tones that transported her to heaven. 

“My heart is overflowing.

Your heart is always glowing.

Now my heart is racing, see?

’Cause your heart is facing me.”

Her response was immediate.  “Jamin, that’s beautiful.”

“Just like you,” he grinned.  Then he strummed his guitar as he tentatively sang another stanza.

“I searched all over the world

To find that one special girl.

Looked in ev’ry treasure chest,

Searching for the very best.

“My heart was always hunting,

Willing to be confronting

All the woes that do chase you,

As long as I could face you.

“I did travel far and wide

To bring sweet you to my side, 

I was seeking treasure

Worth far more than I could measure.

“Jamin!  That’s really good!”  Her chin bobbed up and down enthusiastically.

He frowned.  “I think I’ll split those stanzas over verses one and two.”  He hummed while he strummed the strings, and inspiration seemed to hit again.

“Longed to find a resplendent ruby.

Something very fine that could truly

Brighten my life with its kind color.

Wouldn’t settle for something duller.

Want to find a glittering diamond 

That would light up my heart like you did.

“I desired a shining sapphire,

Sparking with the bluest of fire,

Carrying me to freedoms boundless.

Wanted to be always limitless.

Needed an amusing amethyst.

Looking for real love, not just some tryst.

“I needed a glowing garnet

Like the finest wine incarnate.

Wanted an elegant emerald. 

Who would have thought I could be so bold?

I desired a fiery topaz; 

Fill my soul with its passionate blaze.”

Jamin paused before musing, “I’ll have to work on that part.  I think I need to divide those lyrics up over the first and second verses too.  But I’ll need another couplet.  Ahh!”  He shook his head in disgust.  “I’ll come back to it later.”  His flaxen head bent forward, he smiled at her as his fingers continued caressing the golden strings of guitar while she played the piano.

“But you are my…beautiful pearl…not simply an…average girl…I just need you.

I don’t need…precious stones…or sparkling tones…I just need you.

I don’t need…rubies red…opals instead…I just need you.

I don’t need…emeralds green…or garnets keen…I just need you.

I don’t need…sapphires…cyan fires…I just need you.

I don’t need…diamonds…lonely islands…I just need you.

My beautiful pearl, my whole wide world…my beautiful pearl.”

He vocalized for a few bars.  Then he added a bridge at the end.

“For I found them all…when I found you.

The colors of the rainbow…I see them all in you.

Bouncing off your sheen, red, orange, yellow, green.

Shining through you, purple, indigo, and blue.

My beautiful pearl, my whole wide world…my beautiful pearl.”

Her fingers silent on the keys, her eyes wide with wonder as they flooded with tears, Zabel sat, still as a statue, staring at him in awe.  She had written the basic melody for this song, but Jamin had fashioned it into something so much more, and her love of his lyrics was now flowing down her face in crystal streams.

As Jamin hummed the last few chords of the song, he glanced up to see the tears sliding down her beautiful face.  He just wished she’d take off the sunglasses, so he could see her speaking eyes in all their silver glory.

––

As his fingers came to rest over the humming strings of his guitar, Jamin suddenly glanced up at her.  “Zabel, you don’t have any lines in this song.  We need to change it so that the beautiful pearl responds.  It wouldn’t have to be very many lines…so you don’t have to sing much.”

Panic engulfed her countenance.  Her face paled beneath the makeup covering her bruises, instantaneously becoming a blank slate.

“Please,” Jamin begged her.  “Sing for me.”  When she yet remained silent, he whispered, “Just one line.”  He didn’t think she was going to respond.  She sat quite still for a very long time.  He closed his eyes as his heart dipped.  She still didn’t trust him fully, and that hesitancy on her part made him quite sad, but he would give her time….  

Then, without warning, she opened her mouth in a haunting melody, singing just one line, but that one line was enough to give him chills.  The good kind.  No, the magnificent kind.  “Please…just look at me,” Zabel’s voice spiraled up out of her chest to wrap around him in ecstasy.

Stunned, Jamin gazed, wide-eyed, at her.  “Bella,” he breathed, “your voice is so….”

“Repugnant?”

“Rich.”

His response arrested her.  Rich?  Her voice?  Was the beautiful boy deaf? 

“Listen,” she retorted, “I know it sounds like I’m crunching on gravel when I sing.  You don’t need to mock me.”  She’d heard his singing voice.  It had startled her.  She’d wondered if God had made a mistake when they were born.  Had He accidentally switched their voices?  Jamin had been given the clear high voice she coveted, and she’d obviously been handed the voice of a man.

Bella’s voice was deep and rich, comforting him like a soothing cup of hot cocoa on a cold winter’s day.  That mellow tone had wrapped around him, reverberating with beauty.  He gazed at her in amazement.  This was the voice she so despised?  His astonishment tumbled from his mouth, “Your voice is magnificent.”

She blinked at the sincerity echoing in his sweet tone.  Jamin truly believed her voice was magnificent?

“Please, Bella, sing again.  Even if…only for me, then sing for me!  I want to hear your voice.”

As though overcome by his words, she bowed her head and sat, still and silent as a statue.  He set his guitar down in its case and crossed the few feet separating them.  He sat down next to her on the piano bench.  Right next to her.  She could hear his breathing.  Like last night….  

The intimacy of those moments stole stealthily over her once more.  She was being wrapped up in his breath.  Like a cocoon protecting her from the onslaughts of the cruel world around her, his breath surrounded her completely.  Or so it seemed to her.

Then a new sensation distracted her from his breath.  The warmth of his hand slid over hers as his palm came to rest over the top of her hand in her lap.  She’d splayed her fingers on her thigh.  Now they were happily trapped beneath his own…and his palm was radiating heat.  Its warmth was now engulfing her too.  Was he seeking to completely envelop her with himself?

She turned her head slightly towards him as he bent his own near her ear, whispering, “Bella…sing for me.”  His breath flowed across her skin, making her shiver with delight.  

In that mesmerizing moment, Zabel would have given Jamin anything he asked of her.  She closed her eyes to concentrate on his breath, still teasing her ear.  Without accompaniment of any kind, she opened her mouth and began to sing a song she’d sung for years.  One her voice knew by heart.  One she’d written long ago.

Jamin sat, stunned, as the strength of her voice surrounded him, probing the depths of his soul.  He was shaken to his very core as he listened to her.  How on earth had she not realized that she’d been gifted a voice from the heart of heaven itself?

Deep and mellow.  Soothing and rich.  Dulcet and pure.  It stirred his soul, making him want to claim her lips with his own…to capture that voice in his own mouth and release it himself.  It was simply stunning.

“Please just look at me…tell me what you see.

Don’t look away…do not delay.

Set your eyes on me…tell me I’m lovely.

Come set me free…please just love me.”

She sat, ramrod straight, on the piano bench as her voice echoed around him.  Her dark brown tresses cascaded past her shoulders, a few errant tendrils brushing his arm.  As she fell silent, she bent her head, and a curtain of those long glistening locks swung forward to shield her shy face, protecting her from his intent perusal.

“Bella,” he breathed.  “I don’t have…the words.  I don’t know who lied to you.  I don’t know who told you your voice was ugly.  But it’s not….  Your voice is angelic!  It’s wonderful!”

He was trying to comfort her, but as Jamin gushed, Zabel was reliving a nightmare.

“Who do you think you are to speak to me that way, you little bitch!?  No one wants to listen to you!”  Her father sneered at her.  “Get rid of those stupid dreams in your head!  You’ll never be a singer!  I can’t stand your whiny voice.  Just shut the hell up!”

His stinging slap had then exploded across her cheek to reinforce the power of his devastating words.  As if the words alone had not been enough, though they had been.  They had been too much.  She’d been a mere fourteen years old, and he’d broken her heart that day.  She’d become accustomed to him breaking her body, but the shattering of her soul had reached new depths that evening.  It had left scars on her sensitive spirit.  Ones that yet cut her so deeply. 

Her head still bent forward, she pressed her lips together, but a strangled sob still managed to escape her miserable mouth.

“Bella?”  Jamin’s brow creased with both concern and alarm.  “What is it?  What’s wrong?”

“It was my father,” she gasped.  “He told me my voice was awful.  That no one would ever want to hear it.  That I should just shut up.  So I did.  Around him.”  She inhaled a steadying breath.  “But when he wasn’t home, I would still sing my heart out.  I can’t stop singing.”  She drew her hands up to cover her face before sobbing against her palms.  “It’s like air to me.  I have to sing, even if no one will listen.”

“I’ll listen.  I will always listen to your voice, Bella.  It’s beautiful.  So beautiful.”  He paused a moment before querying, “You believe me, don’t you?”

She seemed to freeze in front of him for several seconds.  Finally, her bruised lips thawed, and she mumbled, “It’s so hard to believe that anyone wants to hear me.  He never did.  And he said….”

“Don’t pay any attention to what he said.  He’s wrong.  He’s a liar.  He’s deaf, Bella.  He cannot hear the beauty in your voice…but I can.”  Jamin grabbed both of her hands in his and tugged her towards him…which was awkward since they were still sitting side by side on the bench.  He stood up briefly to straddle the end of the bench, so he was facing the side of her body.  She, however, was still facing the piano.  He released her hands before reaching up to gently remove the sunglasses from her face so that he could stare into her eyes.  After setting the glasses on the piano, he tenderly grasped her hands again as he gazed deeply into her stormy gray eyes.  “I will always listen to you.  I promise.”  He cleared his throat then before changing the subject.  “Where did you learn this song?  Did you write it yourself?”

She nodded.

His bright grin stretched across his sweet face.  “I think it’s perfect!  We can use the part you just sang to me as the intro to My Beautiful Pearl!”

Her eyes grew wide.  “What?”

“You’ll sing only those four lines.  Then I’ll sing the rest of the song.  My voice will pale in comparison to yours.  You’ll be a hard act to follow.”  He frowned momentarily before unleashing a mighty grin on her.  “But I’m okay with that.”  His earnest gaze pierced hers.  “What do you say, Bella?  Will you sing with me?”

Chapter 9: My Beautiful Pearl – September 10, 2019

Zabel swallowed.  She was terrified.  But Jamin seemed to think she sounded wonderful.  “Do I really sound amazing?  Or are you just being sweet?”

“You really sound phenomenal!  I can’t believe I’m the first person to hear you sing!”

“The first person who appreciates my voice, for sure,” she murmured dryly.

“Please, Bella!  Say you’ll sing with me.”

She inhaled deeply until her chest expanded, and she winced.  Her ribs still hurt.  “All right,” she sighed.  “We’ll try it now.  So you want me to weave my four lines into the beginning of the song that we already put together?”

He nodded.  “You practice that for a couple minutes.  I’m gonna grab my notepad…and jot down the lyrics we already wrote…and finish that one couplet.  When I’m done, we’ll play it all the way through.  Okay?”

She bobbed her head at him, and they both set to work on their tasks.  An hour later, they had finalized the song.  She played the opening bars on the piano, then her lilting voice joined the music flowing from those keys, and she filled the room with such beauty that Jamin felt like weeping.

“Please just look at me…tell me what you see.

Don’t look away…please won’t you stay?

Set your eyes on me…tell me I’m lovely.

Come set me free…please just love me.”

Jamin’s guitar didn’t join the mix until she’d finished her lines.  Then a few chords in, his high voice answered her deep one. 

“My heart is overflowing.

Your heart is always glowing.

Now my heart is racing, see?

’Cause your heart is facing me.

“I searched all over the world

To find that one special girl.

Looked in ev’ry treasure chest.

Searching for the very best.

“Longed to find a resplendent ruby.

Something very fine that could truly

Brighten my life with its kind color.

Wouldn’t settle for something duller.

“Want to find a glittering diamond 

That would light up my heart like you did.

I needed a glowing garnet

Like the finest wine incarnate.

Wanted an elegant emerald. 

Who would’ve thought I could be so bold?”

Together, they vocalized as they played the airy interlude.  Then Jamin’s clear tones could be heard again as he sang the chorus.  He threaded all the echoing reverberations of “I just need you” through the song like he was weaving a line of color into a knitted blanket.  Each time that line resounded, his voice almost sounded like a third tone, as though it were his inner voice echoing his outer one.

“But you are my beautiful pearl…not simply an average girl…I just need you.

I don’t need precious stones…or sparkling tones…I just need you.

I don’t need rubies red…opals instead…I just need you.

I don’t need emeralds green…or garnets keen…I just need you.

“I don’t need sapphires…cyan’s fires…I just need you.

I don’t need diamonds…lonely islands…I just need you.

I just need you, my beautiful pearl,

My whole wide world…my beautiful pearl.”

Her voice haunted his as they vocalized together again in preparation for the coming second verse.  Then Jamin’s smooth voice reverberated off the walls of the music room.

“My heart, always on the hunt,

Ready, willing to confront

The many woes that chase you,

As long as I can face you.

“I did travel far and wide

To bring you, sweet, to my side, 

Seeking a worthy treasure,

Worth more than I could measure.

“I desired a shining sapphire,

Sparking with the bluest of fire,

Carrying me to freedoms boundless.

I wanted to be always ground-less.

“Needed an amusing amethyst.

Looking for real love, not just some tryst.

Desired a fiery topaz;

Fill my soul with the passion it has.

I looked for a tempting tanzanite.

Wanted someone to make it all right.”

Now she hummed as Jamin vocalized before he sang the chorus through again in the purest of tones.  She got chills just listening to him, yet at the same time his voice was melting her.

“But you are my beautiful pearl.  

Not simply an average girl.

I just need you.

“I don’t need precious stones 

Or sparkling tones.

I just need you.

“I don’t need rubies red, 

Opals instead.

I just need you.

“I don’t need emeralds green, 

Or garnets keen.

I just need you.

“I don’t need sapphires,

Cyan’s fires.

I just need you.

“I don’t need diamonds,

Lonely islands.

I just need you.

“I just need you.

My beautiful pearl,

My whole wide world,

My beautiful pearl.”

Then after just a few bars, he added a beautiful bridge as he stared at Zabel, singing his heart out to her.  Only to her.

“For I found them all, 

Every single hue,

When I found you.

The colors of the rainbow,

The truest of the true,

I see them all in you.

“Bouncing off your sheen,

Red, orange, yellow, green.

Shining through you too,

Purple, indigo, and blue.

My beautiful pearl, my whole wide world,

My beautiful pearl, my beautiful pearl.

“Whoa-oa-oa-oa.  My beautiful pearl.”  Jamin’s voice came to a standstill, and Zabel’s heart stopped as another voice, a commanding one, spoke from the doorway to the music room.

“You two are collaborating?”

Jamin turned to look at Miss Kwan as Zabel’s eyes flew to her face.  The girl was glad she’d put her sunglasses back on.  Jamin nodded.  “We each wrote a separate song, but we were going to ask you if you would let us work together.”

“Yes,” Miss Kwan responded unhesitatingly.  “That was one of the most beautiful pieces of music I have ever heard from a student.  And your lyrics…just stunning.  You both sing like angels.”  Her praise was quite effusive.

Astonied, Zabel gaped at her.  “You – you heard me singing?  You liked my voice?”  She was trembling.

Miss Kwan’s pointy chin bobbed as she gestured towards the hallway.  “I was walking by and heard you through the door.  I heard you sing about three lines.  Was there much more?”

Zabel shook her head.

“More’s the pity,” mumbled Miss Kwan.  “That’s a shame.  Zabel, your voice is beautiful.  I would love to hear you sing more.”

“Are we required to sing along with our song?” Jamin asked, thinking of Bella.

“No, but singing earns you bonus points.”  Miss Kwan quirked a dark eyebrow.  “I’m looking forward to your performance.  Thanks for the preview.”  She gazed pointedly at Zabel.  “I missed you in class yesterday.”

Chagrinned, Zabel replied, “I’m sorry.  I was sick.”

Jamin’s gaze slid her way, but he didn’t say anything.

“Sick, eh?”  Miss Kwan walked across the room towards Zabel.  When she was just a couple feet from her, Miss Kwan asked, “Is that why you’re wearing sunglasses inside?  Because the light is hurting your eyes?”

No.  It’s the darkness that hurts my eyes.  Zabel swallowed anxiously as she fought to maintain eye contact with her teacher.  Why did she feel like she wasn’t able to hide anything from Miss Kwan?

Suddenly, the woman reached out and tugged on the sunglasses until they slid down the bridge of Zabel’s nose.  Miss Kwan got a good look at the bruises crowning Zabel’s eyes.  She winced, sucking air through her teeth.  “Baby, you weren’t sick yesterday, were you?  Who did this to you?”

Zabel started shaking.  Visibly.

Miss Kwan’s face flooded with compassion.  “Sweetheart, I’m not going to hurt you.  I just want to make sure that you’re safe.”

“I am.  Now.”  Zabel glanced at Jimin.

Miss Kwan tenderly quizzed her again, “The person who did this to you can’t reach you any longer?”

Zabel shook her head.

“Is this person aware you’re a student here?” Miss Kwan asked explicitly.

Zabel nodded.

“Does he have your class schedule or access to it?”

Zabel shook her head again.

“Could he get it from the registrar?”

This question gave Zabel pause.  Finally, she nodded, cringing.

Miss Kwan spun on her heel.  “Come with me.  Right now.  Let’s go visit the office and put a lock on your file.”

Zabel felt trapped.  Her eyes darted towards Jamin.  He saw her distress and stood up.  “It’s a good idea, Bella.  Have him barred from finding you.”

She didn’t say anything.  A few moments passed silently as she stood, uncertain of what to do.

“Bella.”  Jamin had gotten quiet.  Now he spoke very softly, “Will your father come for you?”

“I don’t think so,” she whispered.  “I’ll be okay if I never go back.”

“Did you leave anything in your apartment?  Anything important to you?” he inquired gently.

There was one thing.  She nodded, frowning.  “Just one thing.”

Jamin was quick to reassure her.  “Then, we’ll go get it.  When you know for certain he’s at work.”

Her head bobbed her agreement.

Miss Kwan’s face was a study in tenderness as she addressed the girl again, “Zabel, will you let me help you?  There are steps we can take to increase your chances of staying safe.”  

The girl simply stared at her.  Zabel felt so uncomfortable.  After a moment, she dropped her gaze to the linoleum floor.

“I know how you feel,” Miss Kwan whispered.  “Are your ribs broken?”

Zabel’s eyes darted upward towards her teacher’s.  “S-someone hurt you?” she stuttered.

Miss Kwan nodded.  “Repeatedly.”  She paused.  “Until I put a stop to it.”  Her keen eyes seemed to pierce Zabel’s.

“How did you do that?”

“The first thing I did was pack up and move out.  I found a friend to stay with.  And I told that friend what I was going through.  Then I put blocks on my father’s access to as many areas of my life as I could.  I also started carrying pepper spray in my purse.”  Her lips twitched before flattening out again.  “And I always kept my phone on me, so I could call someone if I needed to.  But moving out mostly solved the problem.  For me anyway,” she concluded softly.  “I got away from him.  And his horrid temper.”  Bitterness lined her face, momentarily aging her a decade.

“He knows I’m a music major,” Zabel admitted anxiously.  “He could haunt the music building.”  She chewed nervously on her lip then winced as she bit into her wound.

Miss Kwan nodded.  “But if the teachers know about your situation, at least we’d be alerted and better able to help you.  We can call security.  Do you think he’ll follow you here?”

“I honestly don’t know.  But I feel like it would be too much trouble.  He’s already overwhelmed with work and comes home to get drunk each night.  He doesn’t have a car, so he’d have to take public transportation.  And he doesn’t live anywhere near here.  Seems like too much trouble to me.”

“Does he know where you’re staying?”

Shaking her head, Zabel glanced at Jamin.  “He knows nothing about the friend I’m staying with.”

“That’s very good.”  Miss Kwan’s gaze bounced back and forth between her two students.

“Honestly?  I think he sees me as his dog to kick around,” Zabel admitted sheepishly.  “If I’m not there, he’ll forget about me.”

“Let’s hope so,” Miss Kwan murmured, “but let’s plan for the worst, okay?”

Finally, Zabel nodded.  “Okay.” 

“Have you filed a police report?” Miss Kwan suddenly challenged her.

Zabel inhaled sharply as her stomach tumbled.  “No.  And I don’t want to.”

“You need to.  If you want, I’ll go with you to the station.”  As Miss Kwan saw her hesitancy, she rushed to add, “You need to get something on file.  Just in case he does come after you.  You’ll be able to get a restraining order.  You should go to the police now…while the bruises are fresh.”

Jamin’s eyes widened in alarm as he remembered Nan’s advice.  He’d forgotten to take pictures!  He gazed fervently at Zabel as he prodded her, “She’s right!  Your body is evidence right now.  Please, Bella, listen to Miss Kwan.  Protect yourself.”

Zabel pressed her lips together as she stared at Jamin.  She cringed again, both from the painful pressure on her mouth and from the fear spiraling through her.

Miss Kwan took a step towards her, reaching out to slip her fingers around Zabel’s.  “Sweetheart, I know this is scary, but you’re not alone anymore.  You’ve got us.”

Zabel dragged her eyes from Jamin’s face to meet Miss Kwan’s steady gaze as the woman continued, “I can clear my schedule this afternoon.  Will you let me drive you to the police station?”

Dread flooded Zabel’s eyes as Jamin encouraged her, “I can go with you too.”

Zabel turned her reluctant gaze upon him.  “Don’t you have another class?”

“I’ll skip it,” he responded unhesitatingly. 

She shook her head, and his heart dipped, but her words alleviated his concerns, “No, Jamin.  Don’t miss your class.”  Zabel met their teacher’s compassionate gaze.  “Miss Kwan will be with me.”  Courage seemed to fill her soul then, and Zabel lifted her chin as a steely glint lit her eye.  “I can do this.”  She gave a tiny yet definitive bob of her chin to strengthen herself.

Both Miss Kwan and Jamin smiled at her.  “You can,” Miss Kwan assured her, squeezing her fingers again.  “First, let’s head to the registrar.”

Drawing a deep breath to fortify herself, Zabel nodded before following Miss Kwan towards the door.

“Bella Perle, where do you want me to meet you at four thirty?” Jamin called to her as he packed up his guitar.

“Right here.  I’ll come back to practice.  If we’re done at the police station.  If not, I’ll text you.”

He nodded as she and Miss Kwan left the room.  After the two ladies had stepped outside of the music building, Miss Kwan turned towards Zabel.  “Jamin isn’t the one hurting you, is he?”

A horrified expression flew across Zabel’s face.  “No!”

“I didn’t think so, but I had to ask.”  Miss Kwan slid a surreptitious glance towards Zabel.  “Is he the friend you’re staying with?”

Zabel nodded.

“He seems like a really good guy.  He saved your grade yesterday.”

“I know.”

“And here I thought the two of you despised each other when I pulled you up in front of the class last week.”

Zabel’s head snapped around so she could face Miss Kwan.  “You knew we didn’t like each other, but you made us partners anyway?”

The teacher shook her head.  “I had no idea you didn’t like each other when I told everyone their partner was the person sitting next to them.  But you two were fighting like cats and dogs while we stood on the stage.  Did you know each other before my class?”

Zabel shook her head.  “It was a misunderstanding.  We’ve resolved it.”

“I can see that.  I’m glad.”

Zabel smiled.  “Yeah, me too.”

She thought of Jamin as she walked to the registrar’s office with Miss Kwan.  He’d found Zabel’s sore spot and done his best to assuage it.  He even called her Bella now.  Beautiful.  And once, he’d called her Bella Perle.  His beautiful pearl.

Chapter 10: What Are Best Friends For? – September 11 – November 6, 2019

The next day after their music theory class, Jamin and Zabel headed to her father’s apartment.  As they rode the elevator, Jamin glanced at her.  “You’re sure your father’s at work?”

She nodded.  “I called and asked to speak to him a minute ago.  They put him on the phone.”

“Did you talk to him?”

She nodded her head.  “In a weird nasally voice, I claimed to be calling from a doctor’s office.  Turns out he didn’t have an appointment with that doctor.”

Jamin laughed.  “You are one clever girl, Bella.  Remind me never to cross you.”

“Don’t cross me, Jamin,” she retorted sternly, but then she ruined the effect by smiling at him.

“Still, I want to take one more precaution.  If you don’t mind.”

“What?” she cocked an eyebrow at him.

“You hang out around the corner, and I’ll knock on the apartment door.  If no one answers, we’ll know we’re safe.”

She agreed.

––

Leery of facing her father, Jamin nervously rapped on the apartment door, but no one answered.  He knocked again, for good measure, before waiting nearly a full minute for a response.  Still, no one appeared.  After a few moments, Zabel slipped around the corner and slid her key into the lock, but it wouldn’t turn.  Distressed, she tried again as disappointment warred with apprehension in her countenance.  “He changed the locks,” she whispered, disheartened.  Her face crumpled.  

Jamin noticed.  “What’s so important that you would risk coming back for it?”

“Maman gave me a doll on my fifth birthday…never mind,” she dismissed her distress in a tiny voice.  “It doesn’t matter.”  She spun slowly around, headed towards the elevator.

“Of course, it matters!” he responded passionately, realizing that the doll was probably the only thing she had left of her mother.  “Is it the only doll in your room?”

Still facing away from him, she nodded, and he watched as her long dark tresses bobbed up and down against her shoulders.  “It’s the only doll I was ever given.  But Maman told me it looked just like me.”  He could now hear a smile in her voice.  “She called it Minizabel, a mini version of me.”  Tears were now flooding her eyes as she glanced back at him.  Not that he needed any more proof of the doll’s importance to her.

“Bella, I promise you, I will get that doll back for you.  If it’s still in your room, I’ll find it.”

“You promise?” she asked him with puppy dog eyes, tears trembling on her lashes.

In that moment, Jamin would’ve done anything to get that doll back.  “Better than that.  I pinky promise.”  He held up his tiny pinky.  He’d always been embarrassed by his small hands, but as Zabel held her larger pinky up, not one giggle escaped her lips as their fingers locked around each other.  

Adoringly, she gazed up at him out of reddened eyes and smiled.  “Thank you, Jamin.”  Then she stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek before reaching for his hand and tugging him towards the elevator.  

“Bella,” he asked as they rode alone down to the bottom floor, “are you okay with never setting foot in your apartment again?  And never seeing your father again?”

She stared blankly at him for a few thoughtful moments as memories cascaded through her mind before finally murmuring soberly, “I think it’s time to cut the cord.  Baba hasn’t been my friend.  Ever.  Not once in the last eighteen years.  Not that I can remember.”  Sorrow settled over her features then, like an old worn coat that had seen too many days and had outlived its usefulness.

Jamin’s heart ached for her.  She had no one.  She was all alone in the world now.  No mother.  No kind father.  “Do you have any siblings, Bella?”

She shook her head.

“A grandmother, a grandfather?”

Another shake of her head.

“An auntie, an uncle?”

“Maybe,” she shrugged.  “But if so, I don’t know.  Baba never took me to meet any family.  He’s estranged from his parents.  He disgraced them as a teenager, I think.  He mumbled something about it once when he was drunk.”

“So…you’re all alone in the world?  Except for your father, I mean.”

“No.  You had it right the first time.  Baba definitely doesn’t count.  I am alone in the world.  Or I would be if….”  Her voice trailed off, but her mind finished the thought.  Not for you.

“If what?”

“If I didn’t have you.”  She squeezed his hand as she lifted the corners of her mouth before looking at the floor.

“You’ve got that right, Bella.  You’ve got me.  Now.  And forever.”

She glanced up at him then…and smiled tremulously.  That tiny smile somehow devastated his heart.

––

Later that night as Jamin lounged on his couch, he called his best friend, Tate.  Jamin kept his voice quiet as he quizzed him, “Wanna do a little investigative work with me?”

Tate raked his fingers through his copper curls as his lips slowly spread into a wide grin.  “Sounds fascinating.  When and where?”

“Tomorrow.  Six o’clock.  Meet me at the shop.  Wear a pair of jeans and a plain white T-shirt.”

“Six o’clock in the morning?”  Astonishment echoed through Tate’s voice.  So did reluctance.

“Tate?”

“Hmm?” 

“When have you ever been awake at six in the morning?”

Touché.

“And, Tate?”

“Hmm?”

“Bring your dad’s toolbox.”

––

Tate followed Jamin’s instructions implicitly.  He arrived at Nan’s shop dressed sparely in a white T-shirt and a pair of faded jeans.  He’d even donned a pair of tan hiking boots.  He was definitely dressed for his role.  Now all Jamin needed was for him to play his part perfectly. 

As they rode in Jamin’s car towards Zabel’s old apartment, Tate questioned him.  “So…what’s all this about?”

“We need to get into Bella’s father’s apartment.”

“Who’s Bella?”  Tate was clearly lost.

“My girlfriend.”

Tate turned shocked eyes towards Jamin.  “You have a girlfriend?  Since when?  I don’t talk to you for a week, and you get a girlfriend!?”

“Not exactly,” Jamin mumbled, “but I hope to.  Soon.”

Tate frowned, glancing at Jamin like he was nuts.  “Why did you call her your girlfriend then?”

“That was the most succinct way to answer your question,” Jamin muttered as he watched the stoplight, waiting for it to turn green.

Tate shook his head.  “What’s gotten into you?  You love words.”

Jamin sighed.  “I made a friend at school.  Bella.  She’s staying in my room.  Her father—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Tate held up his hand.  “Back up.  Did you just say she’s staying in your room?  Like…your bedroom?  You mean you’re sleeping with her?”  Tate’s jaw dropped towards the floor.

Jamin paused in mid-thought, his eyes rolling towards his car’s ceiling as he considered Tate’s question.  Technically, he and Bella had slept together.  But not in the way Tate meant.  “No, I’m not sleeping with her,” he snapped.  “She’s staying with me and Nan.  I gave her my room.  I’m sleeping on the couch.”  That was the plan anyway.  However, after visiting her old apartment building yesterday, Bella had been a little spooked when they’d returned to his room in the evening, so Jamin had spent another night sleeping next to her. 

“Anyway,” Jamin continued, “she couldn’t live with her father anymore.”  He’d promised Bella he wouldn’t tell anyone what her father had done to her, so he glossed over the reason.  “He…doesn’t know me, or that she’s staying with me, and it needs to stay that way.  But she left something important in their apartment, and he changed the locks after she moved out, so you and I are going to retrieve it for her.  Without letting her father know that I’m the one she’s living with now.”

Tate was royally confused.  “Why on earth can’t he know she’s staying with you?”

“Let’s just say…he wouldn’t be happy.  And leave it at that.”  Both Jamin’s voice and his gaze shot a warning salvo in Tate’s direction.  “The point is we need to get into her bedroom without him finding out who we are.”

“And just how exactly are we going to do that?  And why did I bring the toolbox?”  Tate drummed his fingertips against the metal lid of his father’s toolbox.  Not that his father had ever used this toolbox.  His father had men for that.  But it was stored in a handy corner of their garage, so Tate had liberated it on his way out to see Jamin.  Hopefully, no one would notice over the next hour that it was missing.

Jamin sought to explain himself.  A little.  “So that we can retrieve her doll undetected.”

“Her doll?”  Tate stared at his friend, wondering if the guy had finally lost his marbles.  “So you’re telling me that we’re pulling a Mission: Impossible to extract a toy?”

—

Still questioning his best friend’s sanity, Tate knocked on the door after they arrived at the apartment.  They both knew he was the better actor.  Keeping his gaze trained on the floor, Jamin tugged his hat down over his eyes.  A moment later, the door opened, and a man they could only assume was Zabel’s father stood staring up at Tate.

“Excuse us, sir,” Tate addressed him politely as he pasted a friendly smile onto his face.  “Your super called us.  Said your toilet was leaking.  The apartment below yours,” he jabbed his thumb towards the floor, “is flooded.  We need to take a look at your toilet and see if we just need to tighten a pipe or if we have to replace the whole works.”

“What?”  The man seemed confused.  “Nobody told me about a leak.”  Carelessly, he took a swig from the beer bottle in his hand.  He already seemed a tad unsteady on his feet as he stood before them weaving slightly.

“Were you at work today?” Tate kept up his act.  “It just happened a little while ago.”

The man nodded.

“Sorry to disturb you, sir.  We’ll just be a few minutes.  Hopefully.”  Tate glanced at Jamin before turning his attention back to the man.  “If you could just lead the way to your bathroom, you can go about your business as usual.  The sooner we get to that toilet, the sooner we’ll be out of your hair.”

Jamin was holding his breath even as he marveled at Tate’s acting talent.  He was positively brilliant!

Another draught of beer passed down the man’s gullet before he shoved the door open with his shoulder and stepped backwards.  “Come on.  Hurry up!” he hiccupped.  “The bathroom is that way.”  He threw his arm out to guide them but mostly succeeded in sloshing beer onto the floor as he staggered to the side.

A few moments later, Jamin and Tate were awkwardly standing in a bathroom that hadn’t been designed to hold two grown men.  Zabel’s father was watching them from the doorway as he helped himself to a bit more of his ale.  Tate was staring at the toilet.  Jamin, on the other hand, was still hiding his face as he examined the wall dividing the bathroom from Zabel’s old bedroom.  Suddenly, a stroke of genius struck him.  His back still facing her father, he nonetheless quizzed the man without looking at him, “Sir, is there a bedroom on the other side of this wall?”

“That wall?”  Another swig of yeasty beer passed between Mr. Leblanc’s lips as he nodded his head.  “Yeah.”

“Would you mind if I examine the other side for water damage?”  Jamin was amazed at his own ability to play it cool.  Especially since his heart felt like a rocket on the verge of exploding before hurtling into outer space.

A nod of the man’s head followed Jamin’s question.  “Go on.  The door is right there.”  Again, the beer bottle pointed the way. 

Jamin followed that gesture while Tate squatted down next to the toilet, garnering the attention of Zabel’s father as he exclaimed, “Ah!  I think I see what’s loose.  Let’s try tightening this up a bit.”  He began to dig through his toolbox, looking for the right wrench.

Meanwhile, Jamin slipped into Zabel’s room.  His eyes darted around it, first checking the bed where the doll usually rested.  Though the bed was still crisply made, no doll appeared to be sitting on it.  Jamin’s heart released a pang as his eyes slid over that well-kept bed, and he made a promise to himself.  He would never force Bella to be that neat.  Though, if she were, he wouldn’t complain.  His gaze traveled around the remainder of the room, searching yet still coming up empty. 

Where could her doll be?  His eyes slid towards the bed again.  Walking up to it, he bent over to pull the covers away from the floor to see if the doll had fallen off the bed.  Nothing on this side.  He wandered over to the other side.  That was when he spotted the little doll lying on the floor next to the wall.  He bent over, reaching out to scoop it up—

“Hey!” Mr. Leblanc suddenly hollered. 

Jamin jumped as the wall separating him from the bathroom suddenly seemed to explode behind him.  His heart slamming against his lungs, he swung around to assess the damage and found…none.  He glanced at the wall.  He stood studying it for a moment as he heard Tate’s voice addressing Zabel’s father, “Are you all right, sir?”

Jamin turned, rushing towards the doll.  He grabbed it before shoving it inside the long sleeve of the shirt he’d tied around his waist.  He knotted the wrist of that sleeve so that the doll couldn’t fall out.  Then he walked over to the wall and rapped on it.  “All clear in here!” he hollered before he emerged from the room and stepped into the bathroom once more.  “No leak in the bedroom.”

“All is well?” Tate asked in coded language.

Jamin nodded as his eyes slid towards Zabel’s father.  The man was now propping up the wall.

Tate finished tightening the already-tight bolt.  Then he turned towards Zabel’s father.  “I think, sir, that’ll do it.  It should be as right as rain now.  But a whole lot drier!” Tate chuckled.  He stood up and placed his wrench inside his toolbox before following Jamin, who was already headed for the front door.  

Jamin stepped into the hallway as his questing fingers brushed against the heavy sleeve of the shirt knotted around his waist.  The doll was still hidden inside it.  He breathed a sigh of relief as the freedom of the hallway embraced him.  Tate slipped through the doorway behind him before turning to address the silent, inebriated man.  “Thank you, sir.  Have a good evening, sir.”  

Without another word, Zabel’s father shut the door in his face.  Tate swung towards Jamin as a huge grin blossomed in that undaunted face.  “Come on.  Let’s head for the elevator.”

—

Once they were safely alone in the elevator, and it was descending, Tate turned towards Jamin, but before he could speak, Jamin demanded, “What was all that noise?”

Tate snickered.  “He lost his balance and crashed into the wall.”

Jamin tossed his hand up over his heart.  “He scared the living daylights out of me.”

“I wondered about that.”  Still chuckling, Tate queried, “You did get the doll, right?”

Jamin nodded.  “I’ll show you in the car.”

Tate was still grinning.  “That was even easier than I anticipated it would be.  Turns out that Mission: Impossible was possible after all.”

Jamin admitted happily, “At first, I couldn’t find it.  But then I realized it must have slipped off the bed.  It was lying on the floor on the opposite side.”  Jamin leaned against the wall of the elevator.  He let loose a huge sigh of relief.  He was ecstatic that he was going to be able to give Bella her doll.  “Thank you so much, Tate.  I owe you big.”

“You owe me nothing.  What are best friends for?”

––

Zabel gazed down at the tiny doll in her hands.  Tears filled her eyes.  She glanced up at Jamin, then she threw her arms around him, her chest bumping his.  In her joy, she ignored the pain that radiated through her ribs.  “Thank you, Jamin!  I love you!”

His arms had come up around her reflexively but, at the sound of her words, his heart flipped over.  Bella loved him?  She’d just spoken the words that no one had spoken over her.  Until he had.  He hugged her close.  Gently.  “I love you too, Bella.  I was happy to rescue your little dolly for you.”

He drew back, smiling down into her eyes.  Her smile faded, and her gaze strayed…to his lovely lips.  She swallowed.  She knew that if she kissed him, she would change the dynamic between them, and she wasn’t certain she was ready for that.  Especially since she was living with him.

They were friends.  The best of friends.  Living down the hallway from each other.  She wasn’t sure that she could handle more than that right now.  Still, she wanted to brush her lips across his, so she compromised.  Pushing herself up on her tiptoes, she planted her lips against his cheek, then she turned her head to whisper into his ear, “You’re the best, Jamin.”

—

Zabel sat down in class.  Next to Jamin.  Like always.  The bell rang, and she began to dig through her bag, looking for the ever-elusive pen.  Where did they all go?  She replaced them each night, just to make sure she’d have one for class the next day.  But without fail they always seemed to disappear.

The problem was that she was running out of money to buy any more.  She’d been living with Jamin for several weeks now.  Her resources were stretched thin.  Without his help she would never have made it on her own.  No matter how desperately she’d wanted to be free from her father and his abuse, she hadn’t possessed the means to make the separation…not until Jamin had come riding into her apartment on his white charger and rescued her, taking her back to his castle so he could guard her and keep her.  Even now, he was feeding her and housing her.  He and his grandmother.  Zabel felt bad about it.  She was trying to get a part-time job to pay for her food, at least, and to contribute towards the utilities.  But so far, they’d refused to accept any money from her.

Suddenly, a hand – one which boasted a tiny pinky – slapped a box down onto the notebook in her lap.  She followed that hand up its arm to the smiling eyes of the boy her heart had chosen to love.  The boy whose heart had, quite inexplicably, chosen her.  “Now you’ll have enough,” he murmured.

She glanced down at the box as questions filled her mind, then she gasped as she read its label.  48 black pens.  Jamin had bought her an entire box of pens!  Instantly, she wanted to throw herself at the sweet boy and kiss him.  But…they weren’t doing that yet.  So instead, she grinned at him, remarking, “Wow!  You must have a lot of faith in my ability to lose a pen.”

“Oh,” he nodded sagely, “I do.  I really do.”  Then he grinned at her.

“Thanks for the pens, Jamin.”  She blew him a kiss.  It was the only one he was getting today.  From her, at least.

His deep smile was her reward.  That…and forty-eight pens.

––

“Jamin,” she addressed him later that day, “we just need to cut that last chord out of the song.  Then it will be perfect.  Repeat the first chord in the bridge instead.”

“This chord?  You want me to cut this chord out of the song?”  He strummed his guitar.

She nodded.  “Try it the other way.”

Jamin played the last few bars of the song through with the new chord combination.  His face lit up.  “You were right!  That is perfect!  Bella, you have such an ear!”

She blushed, and he chuckled, delighted.  He loved it when her cheeks blossomed with embarrassment.  He wondered if her face would flush in that wonderful way if he brushed his mouth across those pale pink lips of hers.  He released a long-suffering sigh.  Every time he thought about kissing her, something stopped him.  He had this feeling, more of an impression, that she just wasn’t ready for more than friendship.  Not yet.  So he would bide his time and hope for the best. 

For the moment, he’d find his happiness in being the best of friends with his adorable Bella Perle.  In his heart, she would always be his beautiful pearl.  Hopefully, someday, she’d be more than that….