2
That very day, Father presented her with a list of several highly respected, well-known pianists to choose from.
She looked them over one by one, but frowned, dissatisfied.
Feigning modesty, she said, "Father, I want to study with Professor Vaughn."
Professor Vaughn was my piano teacher in my past life.
Father's expression grew strained. "That professor is incredibly difficult to hire. I've already made some inquiries. She teaches entirely as she pleases."
The professor was in a league of her own.
It wasn't a matter of the student choosing the teacher. With her, it was entirely the teacher who chose the student.
In my past life, the only reason she'd chosen me as her student was because I had displayed exceptional talent during a performance at the school gala.
Hearing what Father said, Rochelle Sterling pouted and remained silent for a long while.
After a moment, Father finally caved. "Don't you worry," he said. "If you're truly serious about learning the piano, I'll pull some strings and do everything I can to get you into Professor Vaughn's class."
That afternoon, I had no idea how Father managed it.
But he really did get her registered.
After getting the professor's contact information, she came to gloat to me.
"Anya Sterling, I'm not just going to make your life miserable. I'm going to steal the love of everyone around you. I want you to waste away in utter despair."
Oh.
I yawned, letting my gaze drift from my chat window with Professor Vaughn to her face. "Well then," I said, "I guess we'll see what you're made of."
