Riana's Cavatina (Sonata of Love Book 2)

  Riana's Cavatina[A1]

  By

  Amy Lee Peine

  The Sonata of Love Series

  Disillusioned Love

  Riana's Cavatina

  Cavatina—A short and simple melody performed by a soloist that is part of a larger piece.

  CONTENTS

  Movement One

  Movement Two

  Movement Three

  Movement Four

  Movement Five

  Movement Six

  Movement Seven

  Movement Eight

  Movement One

  When I was sixteen, after barely making it through being fifteen, I heard something that would forever change my life. It was D.M.A.’s first single, Warrior Cry. D.M.A. was a new, young, American pop-rock band made of three, absolutely adorable, teenage boys. As the harmonized sound filtered through the speakers of my car I focused in and turned it up. Their voices were smooth and soulful, but the lyrics calling for an awakening of one’s strength were the final element that branded me a D.M.A. fan. I soon became part of a world overtaken by three of the most beautiful and talented guys we had ever known, save for the lucky teen girls around when The Beatles hit. There was no reason for me to ever believe I was something special enough to be part of their personal, intimate world but I—and at least a million other teenage girls—imagined what it might be like.

  D.M.A. became my happy place.

  I needed a happy place.

  I opened my text book to the page dictated by Ms. Schaffer as I tuned her out. Instead of taking notes on the social structure of Ancient Egypt I started yet another letter to him. My mother was beginning to think that it was unhealthy—my love for D.M.A. and my excessive writing to Matthew Sullivan, the front-man of the band, but quite frankly I didn't care. She had no idea what I was dealing with, nor did my dearest friend, Lexi—not really. Even though as my best friend I told her everything, Lexi would never really be able to understand. Which actually made me happy. I never wanted her to be able to relate to the psychological torment I had been enduring since being sexually assaulted just before I turned fifteen. No one deserved that kind of pain. Which led me to wonder what I had done so early in life to deserve such punishment. It would be years before I realized it wasn’t a punishment, but rather a catalyst in my becoming who I was meant to be.

  Matthew had never written back, not that I ever expected him to. My mind often fantasized about what might possibly play out if he did though. Granted, it was likely over dramatic and grossly romanticized—what did you expect from a sixteen year old girl? Those far-fetched daydreams kept me going sometimes when nothing else did. I imagined what it would be like to be loved, supported, and cared for by Matthew, how different it would be from my on and off, volatile relationship with Brandon, my boyfriend for the previous seven months. Brandon had been a new student my sophomore year, his junior, and therefore hadn’t had his opinion of me tainted by the rumor mill after the assault. His naivety regarding my past gave me hope for a normal teenage relationship but normal just didn’t seem to be in the cards for me. Brandon was moody, temperamental, and indecisive. He pretty much exhausted me.

  Sometimes the fantasies about Matthew weren't even romantic or sexual, but just the dream of hanging out with him and the other two band members, Alex and Derek Jennings. They were always so wonderfully entertaining in interviews and videos. Being friends with them would be such a vast improvement upon the boring small-town life I had to endure with my mom after my dad left. Maybe then the snide whispers and comments would stop echoing off the walls of the school hallways, maybe then I would be able to carry my head high and feel some kind of importance and value. God, how I yearned for something better than this.

  Even though the teenager that raped me left the community after the trial, I couldn’t escape how the whole ordeal branded me. My mother was desperate in her quest to keep the proceedings hush-hush but even her political power couldn’t make it go away. The only saving grace I had was my age, as it prevented it from being an open court. Everyone still knew though, how the mayor’s daughter had gotten drunk underage and was “crying rape.” It was a small-town circus.

  “Riana?”

  I snapped my head up from my notebook to face Ms. Schaffer. Shit, how long did it take me to notice her calling on me? I innocently scrunched up my nose and raised my eyebrows in question.

  “Why were the ancient Egyptians so successful?”

  Oh good, an easy one. “Their success was mainly due to their ability to use the Nile River to their advantage in their practice of agriculture.” She nodded then turned back to her lecture notes. I let out a sigh of relief and glanced at Lexi. She hastily scribbled a note and passed it to me.

  I don’t know how you do that, but that was a close one. Whatcha doing?

  I contained a small laugh—I was almost notorious for not paying attention in class, and yet I always seemed to be able to know what the teachers were talking about.

  I know right!? Writing to Matt. =)

  I passed the note back to Lexi and she gave me a knowing smile after reading it. While my mom might have thought I was crazy for writing to Matt so often, Lexi was just as big of a fan of D.M.A. as I was and fully supported my use of writing to him as a way to process my life. She was also always willing to entertain my wild imagination of what life would be like if we were ever so lucky as to meet them. Sometimes such daydreams were the only thing that could distract me from the nightmares, the paranoia of continued whispers and rumors, and the desire to end it all in the most final of ways. I needed those daydreams, and I needed to write. I figured why not combine them and write to the one I daydreamed about?

  The minutes passed easily as I tuned the rest of the class out of my mind and continued to tell Matthew about prom shopping and the dynamics of high school dating. I revealed the extreme levels of my nerdiness and admitted to him that I would much rather curl up in a comfortable recliner with To Kill A Mockingbird and immerse myself in the social struggle of racism and the fight for equality in the justice system than get all gussied up in some slinky dress to inevitably compare myself to everyone else in school. Lexi promised it wouldn’t be nearly as traumatic as I was envisioning, and I caved to her endless pleading that I go to at least keep her company. Brandon absolutely refused to go, so that left me to go alone. I would have asked one of my guy friends, but with Brandon’s jealousy issues I knew that would go over like a lead balloon.

  The bell shook me from my thoughts and I flipped my notebook shut.

  “Ri!” Lexi called as she jogged to catch up to me. “You’re still good to dress shopping tonight, right?”

  My nose wrinkled up and I let out a pained groan. “Ugh, if I have to.”

  “Yes. You have to.” She leaned up against the locker next to mine. “Come on Ri, you promised.” She started to pout and I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Okay, fine! Stop pouting. You know I can’t say no to that face.”

  “Of course I know.” She leaned in and pecked me on my cheek. “I’ll come pick you up at four!” she called as she headed to her last class of the day.

  “Can’t wait.” I mumbled through a small laugh.

  I’ll admit it, Lexi was right—as she usually is. Dress shopping wasn’t horrible, in fact I might even describe it as fun. But then, doing anything with Lexi was always a good time.

  “Seriously Ri, don’t ever let anyone tell you that lace doesn’t work for you. I can’t get over that ivory lace overlay on the nude. I wish it would have looked half as good on me as it did on you.”

  I scoffed in response. “Sure, but that yellow is freaking perfect for you. Not everyone can
pull off such a bold look.” I sipped on my soda. “You’re sure that Trent doesn’t mind that I share the limo and such?”

  “You’re Trent’s favorite non-romantic female.” Lexi laughed. “Of course he doesn’t mind. The real question is, how is Brandon handling the fact that you didn’t cave to his whining about you going without him?”

  I rolled my eyes. “It’s his own fault. If he would have just said yes to me asking him to go then he’d have no reason to be a whiner.” I smiled softly to myself as I thought that Matthew would be a perfect prom date. I mentioned that exact thought in one of my letters to him; how fun it would be if he took a break from being a rock star and explored life as a normal teenager by going to prom with me. I’m sure it did nothing but just reinforce to him how delusional I was.

  Going as what appeared to most to be Trent’s second date wasn’t terrible. He and Lexi both made sure I didn’t feel like a third wheel. If anyone felt out of place, it was probably Trent. Lexi kept me going on the dance floor and Trent laughed while taking pictures I would treasure for years to come. Lexi was magical in the way that she was able to make me believe that the only people in the world—or at least the only ones who mattered—were me and her. She was my fail proof buffer against the world.

  That night, our Junior Prom, was one of the very few highlights I had in high school. I had dreaded it when I first agreed to go, but was saddened at how quickly the night passed. Before I knew it, we were being ushered off the dance floor to gather purses and jackets. Lexi, Trent, and I shuffled into our limo and I laid my head in Lexi’s lap after she snuggled into Trent’s side.

  “See? Didn’t I tell you it’d be fun?”

  “Do you even know the meaning of the word modest?” I teased. “You could have at least waited until tomorrow to gloat about how much fun we had.”

  We made it through another three weeks of school, and then we were free for another summer. Lexi and I spent most of the summer at my mom’s vacation home on Round Lake. I never understood why we actually had such a large house on the lakeshore, especially seeing how my mom rarely ever found time to take me up there when I was younger. It was a fantastic get away though for Lexi and me once we were older and could head up there without my mom. We even snuck Trent and Brandon up without any parents finding out. It was some of those trips that exposed me to the stark differences between my relationship with Brandon and Lexi’s relationship with Trent. Where Trent was supportive, helpful and funny; Brandon was rude and entitled. Where Trent would take initiative and bring out an extra throw blanket for Lexi to snuggle into at the bonfire, Brandon would demand that I get him another drink when I went in for my own blanket.

  “You know, that kid could stand to have a lesson in how to treat a lady.” Trent said as he stepped in from the deck shortly behind me.

  I contorted my lip and gave a small shrug. “It’s fine.”

  “Ri. It’s not.” He grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniel’s from my hand. “And I don’t think he should drink any more tonight.”

  “Really? Then you can be the one to tell him.” I placed the glass in front of him and a can of Coke. “I’m sure he’ll be real understanding.”

  Turned out, he didn’t have to be understanding at all. Trent literally gave him a glass of Coke and ice and Brandon was never the wiser. Seemed Brandon was drunk enough to not even notice he was no longer being served. I almost laughed in realizing that he really wasn’t all that bright. I watched him from across the fire wondering what it was exactly that drew me to him.

  Brandon was good looking, no question. He was rough around the edges, a gear head always tinkering with cars, a chain-smoker and a budding alcoholic with absolutely no ambition in life. He was my mother’s worst nightmare. I grinned knowing that was exactly what drew me to him. That and that small detail of him not being privy to the theatrical display that were the court proceedings. Brandon was my rebellion. I’m sure he would have drug me down the same empty future that was in store for him had Lexi not kept me in check. She knew I needed the freedom that being with Brandon often led me to believe I had, but she always anchored me to what I was meant to be.

  Sometimes I’d go up to the lake house with only Kona, my wiggly, energetic, but ever faithful mutt, and spend hours at a time with my nose in a journal, writing. There was something about the freedom of poetry or pose, rambling, un-focused free-writing that seemed to soothe me. I explored the nightmares that still plagued my nights, I dove into fantasies that left me blushed, and glamorized a future filled with friends and freedom. Having Kona with me kept the flashbacks and panic attacks at bay for the most part, but when I was unable to escape them she worked tirelessly to pull me back to reality.

  “One more year, Kona. Just one more, then I can get the hell out of here.”

  Summer passed too soon, as it always does, but the promise of senior year brought along a tingling sensation of impending change. The biggest part of my liberation of sorts, was that Brandon had graduated the year before. With hindsight being what it is, I realize now that the sense of liberation that came with Brandon not sharing my academic space anymore should have enlightened me to the fact that maybe we shouldn’t have been together.

  Senior year brought more college applications, more community service—as per my mother’s demands to enrich said college applications, and more D.M.A. music. More and more it seemed that D.M.A. music would literally be the soundtrack to my life. Not that I would complain about it, their musical range fit everything I experienced—joy, sorrow, pain, humor, longing, love, and everything in between. There had been rumors over the summer that the guys were planning a fall tour, and I was hell bent on going.

  “You have to come home with me.” I said as I leaned against the locker next to Lexi’s.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yep. Mother dearest just called me and said I had to go straight home after school.” I rolled my eyes. “Whatever it is, I’m sure I’m not going to want to deal with it by myself. Therefore, you need to come home with me.” I gave her a hopeful grin.

  “For sure.” She agreed.

  After final period we met back at Lexi’s locker as I tried to mentally prepare myself for whatever it was that inspired my mother to have direct contact with me. It wasn’t that my mother was a bad mom, she just wasn’t exactly an engaged mom. I was more of an accessory than a priority.

  As Lexi pulled up to my house the first thing I noticed was a car in the driveway that certainly did not belong there. “Company?” Lexi asked.

  “I have no idea.” As Lexi pulled up next to it I examined it further. “It’s a freaking sweet car though, looks like probably late seventies Camaro.”

  “You’ve been hanging out in Brandon’s garage too much.” Lexi laughed.

  “You’re probably right.” I said as I stepped out of the car. I peeked into the Camaro, it was impeccably clean. “Alright, let’s go see what this is about, shall we?”

  As I approached the front door I saw a note taped to it. I furrowed my brow and pulled it off.

  Riana,

  Sorry, I had to run to the office. I’m sure you’ve noticed the car. It’s yours. Everything is explained in the envelope on the kitchen counter.

  Mom

  My mom had been entirely too resistant to technology, and continued to leave me handwritten notes well beyond the point of being replaced by texting. I passed the note to Lexi. “I’m so confused. Come on, let’s go find this envelope.” I unlocked and opened the door and reached down to pet Kona as I knew she’d be waiting at the door before it even opened.

  “Hey cutie.” I cooed as she wiggled around, trying to get every inch of her body caressed by my hands.

  I threw my backpack on the couch as I cut through on my way to the kitchen. On the counter lay a large manila envelope with my name on it. I sliced it open and poured out the contents which included two sets of keys, the title, and a short note.

  Riana,

  Congratulations on making it to senior ye
ar. I’m very proud of you. I had planned on sending this as a graduation gift, but when I found it I couldn’t bring myself to wait. Your mother had told me that you’d taken a liking to cars as of late. This had always been a favorite of mine when I was around your age. I’ve covered the insurance for the next year, so all you have to do is enjoy it.

  Love you Sweet Pea

  -Dad

  “You cannot fucking be serious.” I sat down at the island shaking my head. Lexi cocked her head, expecting further explanation. “Well, the car is mine. A senior year gift from my father.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Indeed.” I chewed my lip. “Can’t ever visit, but can have a freaking car delivered to me.” I sighed as I hopped off my stool.

  “Well, whatever. Let’s take her out for a spin, Lex. I gotta show Ma!”

  In no way did I mean my mom. Lexi’s mom, Sophie, was the mom I felt I didn’t have. She was mostly a stay at home mom, though she often helped with Lexi’s dad’s real estate business. Sophie, or Ma as I called her, was warm, sweet, friendly, and always concerned about me. Not only did she care for her own kids, of whom Lexi was the oldest, but she seemed to take care of all the neighborhood kids and any of her kids’ friends. I adored her.

  We slid into the Camaro. I was right in guessing it as a late seventies model; it was a 1978 Z28 Camaro, which meant it had the V8 350 engine and creamy tan leather interior. I gave a little squeal as I started her up, the roar of the engine blasting through the exhaust under us. “Alright, I’ll give it to him—this car is pretty sweet.”

  We took the extra-long way to Lexi’s house. We made a detour to fly by the school, back through the golf course, and along the Rum River. As we approached her place I smiled when I saw that her little brother Raj was outside playing in leaf piles raked up by their dad, Arman. Sometimes I found myself wishing I had a younger sibling, but then I figured that one child was enough for my mother to neglect, why torture another one. I was, however, often envious of the relationship Lexi had with her dad.