Author's Note: Bpov
Full Sum: Bella's mom has died six months before hand. She was a gifted pianist, and Bella just isn't. Bella wants to bring the talent back alive in herself, so she's desprate for help. When all else fails, she askes the Senior Class player, Edward Cullen. What happens when her father dies, and she has no one to turn to? Edward Cullen, as shallow and jerkish as he may seem, he has a heart, and it seems to plead for Bella. He can't take it anymore, and one day, they run away together. All Human.
As I walked downstairs, still in my pajamas and wild bed head, I couldn't help but notice the grand piano in the family room. All it was doing was collecting dust, no one has ever used it since my mother died. She was amazingly talented, and everyone knew it, but she was so modest, everyone stopped telling her how great she was. Her best and sometime worst quality was just that. You might even be able to call her hardheaded.
When I was little, she would always let me sit on the bench with her. She would always strain herself trying to teach me how to play, but it never sparked and interest in me. I would listen for a couple minutes, sigh, and just walk away. She always laughed at me when I grew defiant about the whole thing.
Now that I'm 18, it's a Saturday, and I have almost no life, the big black piano seemed to call my name. I don't know why, because there have been millions of weekends like this, but it still didn't seem to attract me like it did now.
I walked down the last couple stairs, and over to the piano. I ran my finger across the top, making dust fly everywhere, and stick to my finger. I pulled the bench from under it, and blew the dust off. I stared at the familiar bench for a moment then sat down, making it creak.
I wracked my brain for any song I could remember all those years back, but only one tiny song stuck out, and it was probably the only song I could play.
Mary had a Little Lamb.
It felt like the little girl sitting on the bench with her mom came back in me, for it was the only song I ever really listened to. I could remember her fingers moving slowly across the black keys with ease, the smile on her face when she found I was actually listening. It was nice to have that memory stick out.
My fingers glided over the keys, searching for the perfect spot to start the song. I didn't know what the names to any of the keys were, so I picked one, hoping I got lucky. I pressed it repeatedly, making the little ping sound over and over again.
It didn't sound quite right, then I finally saw I was pressing a white key, and not a black, as I had remembered, she always played with the black keys. I heard a heavy sigh come from the stairs. I turned around to see my dad.
'' You know, she always used to say you'd come around. '' He lightly spoke as if I were still that little girl sitting on the bench next to mom. '' I can still hear her voice sitting in that chair, right there, trying to convince me you'd come around to play it without her. '' He smiled weakly, and sighed again.
'' Really? I don't know if you should count on her persuading. '' My voice was soft, trying to hide the tears on my face, as I searched for the spot I lost on the piano. It hadn't been that long ago that she'd passed away, it was still hard for us to talk about her. Charlie said nothing more about the subject, but I still wanted to play the one song I could remember.
I found the key I had lost previously, after searching for another five minutes,and started to play. The song sounded nothing like I remembered it, but that's probably because I paused a lot trying to find the next note.
I tried to play the song more fluidly than the first time, but I couldn't seem to remember the notes I'd pressed before. I got all frustrated and jammed all my fingers into the keys, getting up in a huff. I heard Charlie chuckle in the kitchen.
'' Yeah, you're right. I shouldn't count on you becoming a pianist. Even when you were little, you never had the patience to sit down and learn. You would sit there for 10 minutes at most, and try to play like your mother; you would always try to have some of her talent rub off on you. '' He took a sip of his coffee, a stared at me.
'' You mean I had the patience, no matter how little it was, to sit down without her there? Without her hands across mine? Where was she when I was doing this? '' It made no sense; I can remember her being there every time I sat down, apparently there are holes in my head.
'' Kimo. '' He whispered. He turned his head, not wanting me to see the tear I knew were there. '' You knew about her.... condition, and you tried to become a better player for her. '' He choked on his last words, then he left the room.
I started to randomly press in the keys, trying to get the pain out of my head. The tears, the months, the lonelyness. I sat down at the bench, and fingered the keys, staring at them, wondering how my mother was a master at this thing.
Then I thought that when you actually look at it, all it is, is strings, wood, and keys. It can't be enitrely too hard to learn how to play this. The only thing is, I've heard from many people that if your over the age of ten, it's even more difficult to learn how to play. They all say it's the attention span, and how you get tired of things too quickly.
I didn't care, I opened the phone book and started dialing the numbers of the people I knew who could play the piano. I called all the classes, all the students, all the teachers, and found no one. No one knew how to play the piano. No one could teach me.
'' Edward Cullen knows how to play. '' Charlie walked down the stairs again, and I stared straight at him.
'' How do you know? '' I asked, he seemed so sure of himself. I really wondered how he knew Edward could play.
'' Carisle told me when I busted up my knee last week, remember? We got on the concept of our kids and he said the boy can play. Not that I'm happy it's a boy that could potentially be your tutor, but, if you really want to. Go ahead. '' He shrugged and walked back up the stairs. Then called back; '' But I want to meet him first! ''
I laughed, and turned the pages in the phone book to the C's. The I remembered;
Edward Cullen is the player of the senior class.
I know, not the best of my stories, or it might be, depending on how you like this one and the others. But anywho... This was written by Sparkling Fangs96. One of Edward's Personal Stalkers.