Travis introduces me to Jenny, the girl at the piano, who scoots over and pats the spot beside her on the bench. “Sit,” she says. When I do, she gives me the same flirty smile I saw her giving Travis earlier. “You’re a cute one. How long have you known Travis?”
I duck my head and grin as Traounds up the class. “A few days,” I say, though that isn’t true. I don’t know Travis at all, really, but I want to. Doesn’t that count?
Jenny trails her hand over the piano keys, picking out a solo note here and there. The way she does that makes me think she knows how to play, and the whole scene with her messing up earlier was just a charade to get Travis to touch her.
I don’t like her.
Then she changes my mind. “Really?” she asks. “I thought you two went way back. The way he talks about you…”
Wa
