Wrecked (Dirty Air 3)

I can’t take my eyes off Elena, smiling despite her wet hair clinging to her face. She shouldn’t be attractive to me at that moment since she resembles more of a drowned cat than a human. Caleb and Elena dance in the rai

n, laughing despite the thunder rattling the window next to me.

Her smile snatches away my oxygen. I want to steal her for myself while owning her lips, her smiles, and everything in between.

Elena laughs into the dark sky as Caleb twirls her in a circle. They ignore everything around them as they both dance terribly together in the middle of the storm.

Something in me snaps. I want more time with Elena. More stolen moments and intense kisses. More of her struggling to finish puzzles and me silently helping her.

Staying away from her is impossible, no matter how hard I try. Not only because of our undeniable chemistry. It’s stupid to deny the pull I have toward her, this endless tug of war between my sanity and my desire. I want to be different—to change my life path for her.

Most of all, I want to be normal with her.

It’s not about our attraction to one another, but rather something deeper. Something I can no longer turn a blind eye to.

I want Elena and I’m done pretending otherwise.

After an hour of tossing and turning in bed, I make my way toward the kitchen, wanting a glass of water.

The light sound of the piano playing steers me toward the living room. Mum rarely plays the piano nowadays, and I’d love to catch her tinkering away next to Dad like when I was a kid. Instead, I’m surprised to find Elena in the dimly lit living room.

Elena sits at the piano bench by herself with her back facing me. I recognize Yiruma’s “River Flows in You,” but the sound is off.

Elena swipes her sleeve across her face, sniffling over the music.

I take a hesitant step toward her. “I didn’t know you played the piano.”

She jolts. I close the gap between us, finding her phone resting on the music rack, playing the melody from YouTube.

“Why sit at a piano and not play?” I wave my hand for her to scoot over.

She offers me a weak smile. “I don’t know how to.”

I’m tempted to find out the reason for her tears, but I choose against it after she looks away to wipe her face with the sleeve of her jumper. “Why this song?”

“My mom loved it. She played but couldn’t convince me to try because I wanted to focus on ballet instead of her afternoon lessons. I wish I had, though.”

I don’t miss her usage of past tense. Instead of pulling more information from her, I pause the video. I run my fingers across the keys before starting the song over again.

Her eyes expand. “You play the piano?”

I nod. “You’re lucky I know this one. It’s a classic.”

Elena adjusts her body enough to get a view of me playing. I take a moment to gaze over her tear-stricken face. Her sadness makes me scowl. When a few tears fall down her cheeks, I turn back toward the keys, offering her privacy.

The melody wraps around us as I play the song for her again. When I get to the second chorus, I amp it up, adding more notes. My fingers dance across the keys as Elena watches me.

I only ever perform in front of Mum, but playing for Elena is invigorating. A moment I want to keep, unwilling to part ways with cheering her up. To erase the pain in her face even if it’s only for a few minutes.

When the song ends, she moves to get up, but I grip her wrist. “Wait. One more.”

She sits down again, looking stunned. A thrill shoots through me as I begin playing the first notes of a song that I think is perfect for her.

Her face brightens once she recognizes Ed Sheeran’s “Photograph.”

“I’m honestly not sure if I’m dreaming right now. Pinch me?”

I pause the song and tug on her hair instead. “Do I usually appear in your dreams?”