In Harmony Read Online Free Page A

final distance. A few could even scrape through and graduate without it. For me, it was make or break.
    I sat there stewing until my phone buzzed to remind me I had advanced theory class in five minutes. I had to have an alarm for everything, or I’d miss a class because I was too busy stressing about missing classes.
    Why couldn’t I just be normal?
     
    ***
     
    Dan, my duet partner, had saved me a seat in the lecture theater. It was the biggest room we musicians got to see, and after all the hours spent in tiny practice rooms we tended to sit there overwhelmed by the sense of space, like battery hens in a football stadium.
    Dan was a cheerful, round-faced Canadian and the single most dependable person I knew. I’d chosen him as my duet partner without hesitation—he might not have been the best violinist at Fenbrook, but I knew he’d practice the Brahms until he had it polished, and wouldn’t fall to pieces on the day; with my whole future resting on the recital, I needed a guaranteed good performance, not the chance of a great one. He was friendly, generous, thoughtful…exactly what I’d want in a boyfriend, if he didn’t have a boyfriend of his own.
    Doctor Geisler clapped his hands together, his booming Danish accent filling the room. “Okay! We’re starting today by looking at Schenkerian analysis—”
    The door opened and Connor walked in. Halfway through the door, he stopped and frowned.
    Geisler paused and stared at him. “Are you in this class?” he asked mildly.
    Connor looked genuinely confused. “I don’t know. Am I in this class?”
    Everyone laughed—everyone except me. It was alright for him—he was going to flunk out and he didn’t care. Meanwhile, it felt like I was being crushed under the weight of everyone’s expectations.
    “Why don’t you join us anyway?” said Geisler. “Maybe you’ll recall whether you’re taking this course. And you’ll learn something either way.” It was always hard to tell whether he was being nice or dryly sarcastic.
    Connor nodded and vaulted over the front row of desks so that he could sit down next to a blonde oboist, who giggled even though she probably knew his reputation. Or maybe because she knew his reputation.
    “Okay,” Geisler said again.
    I didn’t have a lot of time to look down to Connor’s row over the next hour, but what I did see amazed me. First, he borrowed paper from the girl sitting next to him—because he hadn’t brought any of his own. Then a pen, because of course he hadn’t brought that either. I didn’t know why he bothered, because he proceeded to take no notes whatsoever, slouching back in his seat and gazing everywhere but at Geisler.
    Once, I thought he was looking at me and immediately felt myself flush. He was probably remembering me almost falling down the stairs.
    Unbidden, little details swam back to me. That outdoorsy scent, so cool and clean you wanted to fill your lungs with it. The way his jacket had hugged his shoulders, before flowing down to his tight, trim waist.
    Oh, stop it! You sound like one of his groupies!
    “So, can anyone tell me where the development section of the first movement begins? Karen?”
    Oh God! Geisler was calling on me! I knew the answer: Bar 231. Maybe if I got it out quickly, before my body had a chance to react—
    “Stand up, so we can hear you better.”
    No, don’t make me stand! He thought he was being nice, giving me thinking time, but he was just giving the fear time to take hold. I got to my feet, my legs like wet paper. My brain’s gears jammed and froze.
    “Now, where does Beethoven begin the development section?” Doctor Geisler asked, smiling kindly.
    Bar 231. I knew it, I just couldn’t get the words out. What if I’m wrong? What if they laugh? I could feel my throat closing up, soft flesh locking tight as a nut.
    “You did analyze this piece?” asked Doctor Geisler, looking a little annoyed now.
    I nodded. Yes, of course I did! I’ve even done extra