He shakes his head. I’m sure there’s a lot he wants to say, but he focuses on the door in front of us. He pushes it open, and I gasp, amazed at everything that they have inside.
It reminds me of Mom’s big room. I remember there was a big table in the center of the room. That’s where she did a lot of drawing. There was an easel, paints, and instruments.
This one is filled with musical instruments. It’s just as majestic as Mom’s.
There’s a grand piano in the left corner. Next to the drum set stands Matt and another guy who looks a lot like him.
“Finally, it’s our turn to evaluate the kid,” Matt says. “Jacob, this is Zeke. Our next music prodigy.”
“I’ve never played music in my life. You’re wasting your time.” Instead, they should send me to the flower shop. I don’t know shit about plants, but at least I’ll make some money.
“We all have music inside. It’s about finding the right instrument to let your soul speak for you,” Jacob is the one who speaks. “Come on, kid. We don’t have all day. It’s my turn to pick up the children from pre-school.”
“Have you heard from Sadie?” Matt asks, kissing Tristan on the lips.
“She got the approval,” Tristan responds. “Zeke will stay at the Hades household until we can move him to the shelter.”
They hug, and before they kiss again, Jacob yells, “No PDA in front of the children.”
Matt flips him the finger before leaving the room.
Once he’s back, he tilts his head toward the drums. “Let’s start with a real instrument. I bet you could become one of the best drummers in the world.”
“He’s skinny,” Jacob argues.
“Kade watched him last night. He said, ‘drums.’ Plus, I was scrawny at his age and look at me.”
I don’t know anything about music. If there’s something school has taught me is that I suck at everything. But if they want to waste their time with me, I won’t stop them.
Chapter Five
Zeke
Drums.
According to Matt Decker, I’m a natural. Yep, I was in a music room trying musical instruments with MJ and JC Decker. The fucking Decker twins from Without a Compass.
Matthew is one of the best drummers of all time. He’s right next to Keith Moon, Mitch Mitchell, and John Bonham. My head is about to explode because he said, and I quote, “If he works hard, he can make it in the big leagues.”
I haven’t said a word since then. I just keep doing what he tells me because he is a musical genius, just like his brother and father.
When Kade arrives to pick me up, Matt gives him the news.
“I knew it,” Kade states. “Didn’t I say, ‘drums?’ I bet he can learn other instruments. We should teach him everything, not just how to bang a drum.”
Matt glares at him, “It’s not just banging shit, asshole.” His attention is now on me. “I’ll teach you everything I know, but only if you’re willing to put in the work.”
“I’ll do anything you ask me to do. I promise.” This is the first time I let myself think about the future. The need to run around the entire city screaming that I might become a drummer erases everything that’s happened since I left the group home.
“When can we start with my lessons?” My heartbeat thunders inside my ribcage with anticipation. If I could choose, I’d stay here playing for hours.
“We’re going to wait a couple of weeks. Thanksgiving is almost here, and I need to know your school schedule and the results of your testing.”
“What does that have to do with the classes?”
“I need to know how you learn,” he answers. “After that, I’ll find someone to teach you theory, history, and how to read notes. I’m not the right person for that job, but I will be the one teaching you how to play.”
My heartbeat slows down. “Okay,” I answer. All the energy pumping inside me is gone.
“Zeke, it’s just a couple of weeks,” he reassures me. “Some kids don’t figure out their talent for months. You’re lucky to have found it right away.”
“I guess.” I shrug.
“Let’s go home,” Kade says. “I might be able to teach you a thing or two while you wait for Matt to get his act together.”
I nod, almost humoring him. What does he know about music?
When we arrive at the house, he says, “Go inside. I have to run a few errands.”
I climb out of the car, and as I’m about to open the door, someone does it for me. A girl with long brown hair appears and grins. “Hey, Daddy!”
“Hannah, aren’t you supposed to be in school today?” he greets her.
“It’s a half-day. Mom picked me up an hour ago.”
“Well, I’m heading to the flower shop. Can you keep an eye on this one?”
She smiles at me. “You must be Zeke.”
“Hi,” I greet her.
When I turn around, the SUV is gone.
She waits until I’m inside before she closes the door. Leaning against it, she asks, “So, what’s your story?”
“I don’t have a story,” I answer, following behind her.
She opens the freezer and shows me a pink and brown container. “Ice cream?”
I nod.
As she’s serving the ice cream, she says, “Everyone has a story.”
“Do you have one?”
She grins. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
“Well, why don’t you start? If I like it, I might share mine with you.”
She chuckles, handing me a bowl. “Sprinkles?”
“I don’t think I’ve eaten ice cream with sprinkles and chocolate sauce since Mom died.”
“Well, I’m happy to corrupt you. Let’s grab some cookies too. Everything in life is better with cookies and candy.” She grabs a plate from the cupboard and places a few cookies on it.
She tilts her head toward the living room, grabs a tray where she put her ice cream bowl, two glasses of milk, and the cookies.
I follow her. She doesn’t stop. Instead, she continues through a hallway. We enter a room filled with musical instruments, including a piano and a set of drums. It reminds me of the one I just was in, but this one is comfortable, homey. There are a few bean bags on the floor. In the corner, there are cushions and a small bookcase shaped like a house with what I imagine is children’s books.
“I’m guessing that your parents like music?”
She arches her eyebrow. There’s a twinkle in her eye. “How much do you know about them?”
I shrug. Other than they didn’t send me back to foster care nor killed me for breaking into their shop? “Nothing.”
“I assume you know about Matt, Jacob, and Without a Compass,” she implies.
I grin like a fool, “Yeah. I guess I was too nervous to recognize Matt last night. Plus, he’s kind of old.”
“You’re a fan. Well, have you heard of Killing Hades?” she asks with a conspiratorial grin.
I gasp. The dots finally connect. Kaden Hades. “No fucking way,” I stammer. “Kade is Kaden Hades?”