Ch. Piano boy Ch 3 Piano boy Ch 3

The fallout was epic. Everyone was talking 

about it. High school relationships imploded 

anvuL IL. I 

all the time, sometimes with parental 

intervention, but it usually ended with a 

tearful breakup and awkward avoidance in the 

hallways. Occasionally, someone transferred 

schools. 

Sarah, focused on her art portfolio and 

convinced she could charm her way into any 

college, refused to transfer. She’d been 

wronged, humiliated. Ethan, convinced he was 

the one who’d caused her pain, went on a 

hunger strike. He trashed his Steinway, 

defying his parents at every turn. 

I didn’t see him again for weeks. Then, one 

night, I heard the familiar sound of the piano. 

It had been silent since he and Sarah had 

gotten together. The music stopped abruptly. 

Minutes later, an ambulance wailed down the 

stract My parents rushed out to see if they 

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street. My parents rushed out to see if they 

could help. Mr. and Mrs. Miller came 

stumbling out of the house, carrying Ethan. 

His right hand, his piano hand, was covered in 

blood, soaking through his white shirt. As they 

passed, he looked at me, a strange triumph in 

his eyes. “This life,” he whispered, “I live for 

Sarah. Don’t get in my way, Quinn. You know 

what will happen.” 

I stood frozen, like I’d been hit by a stun gun. 

Ethan’s fingers were shattered. Even with surgery, he’d never play like he used to. His 

parents, defeated, finally gave in and let them 

be together. 

Ethan didn’t seem to care. He said it was 

proof of his love for Sarah, a testament to his 

youth. But I knew what he was throwing away. 

The music he could make. the sold–out 

く 

concerts, the adoring crowds…it was all 

gone. 

They were officially a couple now. I heard 

whispers of breakups and makeups, of Sarah demanding expensive gifts, of Ethan’s 

parents cutting him off financially. They’d 

moved in together, living off the prize money 

Ethan had won over the years. I tuned it all 

out, burying myself in my studies. It wasn’t easy, switching tracks, but I managed to pull 

off decent grades, enough to get me into a 

good college. Ethan, with his injured hand and 

his neglected studies, barely scraped by. 

After graduation, we had a class dinner. 

Sarah and Ethan showed up. She was dressed 

to the nines, all designer labels and perfectly 

coiffed hair, looking way older than her years. 

Ethan wore his usual white shirt, but his hair 

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His usual wine SHIT, NUL HIS Hall 

was now dyed silver, apparently Sarah’s latest 

obsession. 

The teachers left early, leaving us to our own 

devices. The post–graduation confessions began. One of my friends, glancing at Sarah, muttered, “Look at her, dressed like she’s… well, you know. All that designer stuff can’t 

hide the trashy vibe.” 

Sarah, who never missed a beat, shot back, 

“Jealous much? At least I have a boyfriend. 

Unlike some people who resort to sneaky little 

tactics.” 

She glared at me. She still blamed me for 

telling his parents, even though I’d told her it 

wasn’t me. They were hardly discreet, though. 

Everyone knew. 

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My friend bristled. “Honey, you’re the only 

one who thinks Ethan’s a prize. Especially 

now that he can’t even play the piano 

anymore. 

99 

Sarah wrapped her arm around Ethan’s. “So 

what? He’s got the looks. He can make a killing in Hollywood. You nerds will be working 

dead–end jobs while he’s raking in the 

dough.” She turned to Ethan, her voice 

dripping with fake sweetness. “Kiss me, 

Ethan.” 

He glanced at me, a flicker of something in his eyes. “Not here, Sarah. Too many 

people.” 

She laughed, a nasty, sharp sound. “What? 

You’re all over me when it’s just us, but now 

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that Quinn’s here, you’re too shy?” 

Ethan frowned. Before he could respond, I 

stood up. “Sarah, this is a class dinner, not 

your bedroom. If you want to make out, go 

somewhere else. And leave me out of it.”