"Time," Aaliyah said. "And a teacher who doesn't let you skip the boring parts. And somebody at home who says again. You can still play around. I do. The boring parts are how the playing around gets a place to stand."
Ruth's hand settled on her shoulder, proud and a little fierce. "We are going to eat this pizza before it becomes a science experiment," she said. "Say goodbye to your audience. Audiences end. That is one of their best qualities."
Aaliyah lifted a hand, small, to Jordan behind the counter. He lifted the rag, a ridiculous salute. She nodded to Lauren and to Marcus. She looked once more at the black piano, which had gone back to being furniture except for Malik's careful notes, and she felt a tenderness toward it that surprised her. It was out of tune in the way public things are out of tune. It had done its job anyway. She picked up her backpack. The beads clicked. The new shoes carried her toward a table where the pizza waited, ordinary and hers.
Behind them, the atrium let the fountain rise again in the mix. The phones on the railing lowered. A security guard who had drifted closer drifted away. The plaque about fifteen minutes gleamed unread. Saturday continued, which is what Saturdays do when they have been briefly interrupted by the truth.
They ate at a table with a view of the piano and a view of the exit, because Ruth liked options. The pizza was too sweet. The hot chocolate was exactly sweet enough. Aaliyah's hands had the faint ache of real action after weeks of the home keyboard's softer lie, and she kept flexing them under the table as if checking they still belonged to her.
"Are you mad?" she asked.
Ruth chewed, considering the question seriously enough to honor it. "I am several things. Mad is not the loudest. I told you to look, not to hold a recital. You stretched the instruction." She pointed a crust at her. "I am also proud in a way I am going to have to sit down to finish feeling. And I am wary. People filmed you. Filming is not neutral. A video can make a girl into a lesson for strangers. I don't want you to be a lesson. I want you to be a person who studies piano and owns more than one pair of shoes."