In the sanctuary of Hunter's room, the world outside seemed distant. Mrs. Rosewood was still absent, overtaken by the events at Rosedale Hall, and Betty had hastened in pursuit. Only Juliette and Hunter remained, cocooned in their space where the weight of dinner's discussions seemed a world away, replaced by light banter and chuckles—a deliberate diversion orchestrated by Hunter to put the strain of past events, Derick included, firmly behind them. Derick's name hadn't marred the air between them for hours.
Juliette's fingers danced over the glossy sheen of brochures and packets from Julliard, all neatly aligned on Hunter's desk. Meanwhile, Hunter surrendered himself to his piano, his fingers gracefully summoning the haunting first chords of "Rocket Man" by Elton John. His reverence for the legendary musician was palpable in each note he played—a tribute from one pianist to another.
With every chord that resonated in the room, Juliette beheld him—not just as a friend but as an artist valiantly inching toward his grand aspiration. And when he arrived at the chorus, Juliette's voice drifted into harmony with his playing, echoing Elton John's timeless words even as her eyes remained fixed on descriptive texts of his future institution.
Their serendipitous duet skidded to a halt as Hunter whirled around in astonishment—how did Shakespeare intermix with piano keys? Juliette's response was immediate; an affronted gasp escaping her lips followed by a playful rebuke—with just a hint of satisfaction that she could catch him off-guard. Yet it was the unspoken symphony between them that unraveled: those shared Spotify playlists—the ones she'd immersed herself in—all held hush-hush.
"Hunter," she threw down the gauntlet with confident nonchalance. "I could name any melody you strike."
Surprise flickered across Hunter's face before he taunted her with a mischievous grin: could she truly discern his renditions? But her certainty rang clear; it was a dare she relished.
First notes leapt forth; an eager challenge met instantly by Juliette's recognition—a flicker of triumph in her voice at identifying "Tiny Dancer." But more than that—she was issuing a subtle reminder: she hadn't been lodged beneath a rock this entire time.
Hunter's laugh punctuated their playful standoff. Yet even as he teased her expertise, there was no faltering in her convictions.
"Play 'Your Song' next," she warned him with mock venom, "and prepare for battle."
He did just that—provoking an onslaught of Julliard pamphlets raining upon him as retaliation while his fingers deftly countered with ticklish pokes until she surrendered amidst peals of laughter.
When tranquility returned and Hunter resumed his serenade at the piano bench, Juliette allowed herself to be captivated once more—one favorite tune bleeding into existence. Off-key but brimming with pride, her voice filled the room and entwined with Hunter's melodies—a declaration marked by joy and pure camaraderie.
"Don't wish it away
Don't look at it like its forever
Between you and me I can honestly say
That things will only get better"
Hunter didn't continue with the next verse, but Juliette sang on without the music.
"And while I'm away
Dust out the demons inside
And it won't be long—"
"Please, halt your serenade," implored Hunter with a note of desperation. Juliette, lacking Ella's innate gift for melody, was an audial calamity. Not only was she unfamiliar with the concept of a tune; the idea of holding one seemed entirely foreign to her. Yet, undeterred, she sang on.
"Before you and me run
To the place in our hearts where we hide"
Hunter clapped his hands over his ears to drown out Juliette's screeching singing, but she only sang louder, and her voice only grew more screechy.
"AND I GUESS THAT'S WHY THEY CALL IT THE BLUUES
TIME ON MY HANDS COULD BE TIME SPENT WITH YOUU"
Juliette pointed dramatically at Hunter.
He grinned. "This is an insult to Elton John." Juliette wasn't going to stop until she at least finished the chorus.
"LAUGHING LIKE CHILDREN, LIVING LIKE LOVERS
ROLLING LIKE THUN-DA UNDER THE COVERS
AND I GUESS THAT'S WHY THEY CAAALL IT THE BLUUUESS"
Exhilarated from her impassioned song performance, Juliette collapsed onto Hunter's bed, spreading her arms wide as she tried to catch her breath. Moments later, Hunter tumbled next to her, unintentionally landing on Juliette's outflung arm. Yanking it from beneath him in haste, she accidentally smacked herself squarely in the face. Hunter couldn't help but burst into peals of laughter at the sight.
Annoyed by his amusement at her expense, Juliette launched a playful assault of tickles to enact her playful vengeance. Hunter wriggled away from her teasing fingers only to inadvertently roll too far and tumble off the bed himself, turning the tables and sending Juliette into uncontrollable fits of laughter.
As the laughter subsided into silence, Hunter propped himself up against his desk's leg, a melancholic undertone in his voice as he confessed, "I've missed you, Juliette."
Juliette felt a familiar tug in her heart; she'd missed him more than she wanted to acknowledge, especially during these carefree moments. But he was edging perilously close to conversation topics they had both avoided. His words sent ripples of unease through her.
"Me too," she echoed softly. "I've missed you too...Just as much."
There was a faint smile on Hunter's face—not the wide beam she adored but a crooked and somber one that silently asked how they had drifted apart over the years.
Breaking the pensive quietness, he said carefully, "My mom's coming around to us hanging out—She's even warming up to your whole family—and she hasn't made any comments about... well... our social differences."
Juliette sat bolt upright. 'Us'? Since when was there an 'us'? She saw Hunter stumble over his words as he noticed her tension spike. He rushed on awkwardly. "She's fine with us being friends—that's all I meant. And it's not just about you—it's all of your siblings…"
His attempts at clarifying things only muddled his meaning further until he fell silent himself, looking at Juliette with apprehension.
The room was heavy with unspoken thoughts until Juliette finally spoke. They had been navigating their friendship so carefully; why did he have to disrupt it with this clumsy conversation?
"Did Betty know about this? Did you tell her to speak with me?" she inquired quietly.
"What?" came his feigned surprise.
Juliette could see right through it. "You thought I wouldn't notice? She's been prying about my love life."
Hunter thumped his head against the desk leg in frustration and gazed upwards resentfully. "I should've known that would set you off," he muttered.
"Set me off? Is that what this is?" She could barely contain her indignation.
Hunter gestured helplessly as if they weren't embroiled in yet another conflict brought on by miscommunication. "Juliette, there's no reason for you to be this upset."
"No reason? That was private information! How could you not understand why I'm angry?"
The undercurrents of their long-standing friendship once again found them stranded amidst misunderstandings—caught in a loop where feelings were both too much and never enough to be plainly spoken.
With a weary drag of his palm down his face, Hunter vented his frustration. "I swear, I never said a word to her. Nothing at all."
"Then how do you account for all her probing questions?"
"Maybe she's just naturally inquisitive? People get curious, it happens."
Juliette's silence was her answer; she averted her gaze, her jaw clenched defiantly.
Undeterred, Hunter pressed on. "Seriously, that situation was as uncomfortable for me as for you — probably even more. I loathed every second of it. The embarrassment is too much."
Juliette whispered to herself, though not intending him to hear, "That should've crossed your mind earlier."
Yet Hunter caught the mutter. His reply wasn't heated but filled with incredulous dismay. "You're joking, right? I thought we were trying to patch things up. That's why you're here, isn't it?"
"That is the reason." Her thoughts added, and because Celine is nothing but trouble.
"I'm so over this argument," Hunter declared.
"So am I," Juliette agreed dryly.
"Really? Seems like you enjoy finding new excuses to stay angry at me. I've done nothing wrong."
That was the last straw for Juliette. She surged to her feet, rage causing her chest to tighten. "The problem is everything you do makes me feel uneasy around you. Each time I try to relax my guard, you shatter that peace."
Matching her stance, Hunter faced her squarely with an intense gaze, which Juliette met unflinchingly, unwilling to shy away despite the discomfort. "I've not forced anything upon you," he maintained.
Her laugh was bitter. "Don't kid yourself; it's been broached by you more times than I care to remember."
"No more then," he vowed tersely, yet with an edge of reluctance in believing him himself. "If we can't even be in the same room without sparring over these issues—then what's the point? I'm through with wasting precious moments if you continue this paranoid dance."
"I am not paranoid," she snapped defiantly.
Hunter's eye roll spoke volumes of his skepticism. "Sure thing."
Her eyes narrowed in response to his blatant sarcasm. If contempt was what he offered, she refused to stand there and take it.
"And where might you be off to now?" Hunter challenged as she headed out.
"I require a moment," she announced sharply before slamming the door — her face aflame with anger. The urge to physically vent - perhaps against the bookshelf near the stairs - flared up within her but was quickly dismissed in lieu of a desire not to deal with the aftermath. Yelling seemed like a suitable release instead. And though directing that loud frustration at Hunter would be satisfying, she was equally weary of their endless bickering. So it left only one target in mind: Celine.
Juliette cascaded down three tiers of stairs, her heart racing, before seizing her phone to ring her oblivious younger sibling. Collapsing into an armchair amidst the myriad chambers of Rosedale Manor, she fought for breath.
"Greetings," Celine chirped, picking up before the second ring could finish.
"Why must you meddle with each facet of my existence?" Juliette's voice thundered down the line.
"My goodness, what's unfolded now?" Celine's tone danced on a tightrope between amusement and concern, never pulling away from Juliette's fiery spirit.
"Can't you deduce the misfortune?" Juliette spat out her words. "I warned you he wasn't prepared for this."
"And I countered, suggesting your own readiness was in question, not Hunter's," Celine retorted with ice in her voice. "I highly doubt Hunter would dare to profess his affections again."
Silence hung heavily. Juliette bit her lip, mulling over her response in awkward shame. "He made no declaration."
"Really?" Celine's voice held no trace of shock. "Then he made another attempt to ask you out?"
"Not in so many words."
"JULIETTE!"
"What now?" Juliette snapped back, defensive and cornered. "He's clearly not over it. And his presence is unbearable for me just now."
"So you won't entertain his company," Celine said, replacing 'can't' with 'won't'. "You might if you wished to."
"It's one and the same. When he calls my intuition into question—"
"Questioning your feelings? That echoes oddly similar to what you're doing to him – only it's harsher."
Juliette dismissed her accusation. "If my feelings are mere trifles to him, then what is the merit in staying one moment longer?"
An urge swelled within Juliette - to flee Rosedale and put leagues between herself and Hunter's infatuation. The allure of the west coast beckoned; oh how she yearned for California's embrace, indulging in astronomy and mathematics far from any romantic entanglements or bothersome boys.
"Surely you're not contemplating departure?"
To Juliette's mind, escape was indeed an attractive prospect. "It's becoming a distinct possibility," she admitted as she stood.
"No. You mustn't," Celine implored.
"I very much can," Juliette contended hotly. "This debacle is your doing. I wish I had never come."
"You needed to be here," Celine insisted firmly. "Don't wrestle with me on this – I speak from wisdom."
"You haven't any idea!" shouted Juliette into the receiver. "The optimal way through this mess is mine to determine – it is my life at stake!"
"Don't play the fool," Celine's retort matched Juliette's volume.
"I'm beyond caring; I'm returning home."
"Celine's words hit hard, dripping with a wry bite, 'Well, protecting your precious ego must really be worth the demise of your closest friendship.' Juliette halted, caught mid-stride towards the door as if turned to stone.
Celine, discerning the impact of her statement on Juliette's sudden stillness, allowed a gentler tone to color her next words. 'If you walk out now, it'll be the last you speak to him. You're aware of that, aren't you?'
Despite herself, Juliette recognized the truth in Celine's probing – a truth as painful as a raw wound. She sagged into a chair; resignation etched across her features. 'You're right.'
'You've not even scratched the surface of understanding his struggle. He fights his feelings for you, Juliette; he confided in me about it. He knows you're oblivious, but feelings like these–they don't just turn off because they're inconvenient,' Celine pressed on, ignoring Juliette's interruption of 'Good,' aiming for clarity.
'You owe him time and assurance of your concern for him. That does still exist, doesn't it?'
'I hope you're joking.'
'Sorry. With you, it's hard to distinguish these days,' Celine shot back.
A tangle of guilt clenched within Juliette's stomach – Celine was spot-on once again. Damn it. A sigh escaped her lips. 'I ought to apologize, right?'
A resolute 'Yes' came from Celine immediately. 'Now. Chop chop.'
'Alright already. I'm on it.' A hint of lightness flickered in Juliette's voice as she acknowledged feeling somewhat relieved. 'Thanks, Celine.'
'Don't mention it,' replied Celine with a smug satisfaction. 'Now go on.'
Juliette ended the call and made her way down the corridor towards Hunter.
With thoughts of going after Juliette weighing on his mind, Hunter hesitated; too much effort had already been spent in pursuit of mutual understanding. He resolved to wait—in hope that the storm of emotions would pass over and that they could bury this incident, returning to their comfortable camaraderie. Self-reproach nipped at him for not cautioning Betty against broaching touchy subjects.
Although Juliette's raised voice was audible from downstairs, Hunter resisted the urge to eavesdrop confident enough in his assumptions about her venting session.
Time ticked away slowly and with each passing minute without Juliette's return stirred unease within Hunter – she wouldn't just leave, would she? At least not without firing off a quick text his way. He checked his phone just to be certain: no message in sight. He set an internal countdown; if she failed to appear in another ten minutes, he'd have to follow her.
But abruptly, any notions he harbored were shattered by the piercing terror in Juliette's scream."