Virtuosity by Jessica Martinez (romancière.)

Author:Jessica Martinez (romancière.) [Martinez, Jessica]
Language: fra
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781442420533
Google: oac2MQEACAAJ
Amazon: B00740GQN4
Publisher: Hachette
Published: 2012-06-19T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

I told Heidi you’d be taking the next two weeks off,” Diana informed me Monday morning when I came down to the kitchen table, French textbook in hand.

“What? Why?”

My question wasn’t dignified with a response, unless a raised eyebrow over a sip of coffee counts. Diana had an unwritten ask a stupid question, answer it yourself policy.

I tossed my textbook on the counter. I needed to see Heidi, to talk her into being my alibi for Wednesday night.

Diana turned to the next page of the travel section of the Tribune and gestured to the stack of blueberry pancakes on the counter. “Clark was feeling domestic this morning.”

I ignored the pancakes and poured myself a glass of orange juice. “But I might get behind …” I started feebly and then stopped.

“Carmen, are you kidding?”

It was a lame excuse. “I don’t know. I guess.”

“Let me remind you that you’ve got a full scholarship to Juilliard for this fall,” she said, “which you’ll hopefully be deferring. And besides, you’ve already completed your required courses. I’m glad you’re enjoying physics and French, but you don’t need them.”

“What do you mean, deferring?”

She looked up over the rims of her reading glasses. “You know if you win the Guarneri you’ll have performance obligations for the year. That’s worth more than the prize money.”

“Well, yeah,” I said, unable to keep the annoyance out of my voice. “But I just assumed I’d be able to do both.”

Diana sighed. “Life at Juilliard won’t be like it is now. No Heidi, no days off. You’ll have to go to classes.”

“I know I’ll have to go to classes. I’m not an idiot.”

It had been like this since Saturday, with every interaction escalating from fine to furious in seconds. The pile of things we were sitting on but not talking about—Inderal, Jeremy, her scary apology—was getting uncomfortable.

“You can see Heidi as soon as the Guarneri is over.”

“But Heidi invited me to spend the night on Wednesday,” I lied. Diana leaned back, folded her arms, and stared at me. Heidi’s trendy Wicker Park apartment was slightly larger than a walk-in closet. And not only was it small, she had a roommate.

But it wasn’t totally implausible. I’d spent a weekend sleeping on the floor, crammed between Heidi’s bed and the bathroom door, last summer when Clark and Diana had gone to Montreal for their tenth anniversary. “Jenna’s going out of town,” I added. That wasn’t unlikely either. Jenna, the roommate, was always traveling for work.

Diana opened her mouth, then hesitated. She was dying to say no, but couldn’t. It was too much. I could see it in the way she had her arms folded and tucked around her, like they were holding her body together, and in the uneasiness around her eyes. I worried her. Good.

She shrugged. “That’s fine. That’s the night of the CSO function, so we won’t be here anyway.”

The fake indifference was stupid, but I didn’t need to call her on it. I had to phone Heidi immediately. I picked up my French book and turned back to the stairs.

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