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Falling (Bits and Pieces, Book 1)

Page 12

by Shirley Miranda


  * * *

  After school, I headed to Mr. D’s room. I was nervous. Just like before, Patrick was already in there talking to Mr. D. I couldn’t hear what they were talking about. I wanted to turn around and leave. But there was the project we needed—okay, wanted—to finish up today.

  “Hi, Mr. D.” I felt my voice shake.

  “Hi, Liz. How was your day?” Mr. D was always polite.

  “Okay.” I looked down and mumbled.

  “Only, okay?”

  Huh? That answer was always fine with my parents. It got them to leave me alone without offering any information that could get me yelled at or lectured to. It was a safe answer. He wanted more? Leave it to a teacher to want you to expand on your answer. “Well, I hate fire drills. So, that sucked.”

  “You are the only student I know that hates fire drills. Hopefully, your day got better from there.”

  “The fire drill wasn’t all bad.” Patrick interjected. “Was it?”

  “No. It wasn’t.” I conceded. I looked up at Mr. D. “We talked about an idea he had for the Physics in the Real World project.” I glanced over to Patrick. “You told him, right?”

  “No. I was waiting for you.” He sat on one of the table tops. “Go ahead.” He rolled his hand in the air, motioning for me to continue.

  “No. It was your idea.”

  “No. I want you to. Only if it’s an idea you want to do. If not, then don’t worry about it. We’ll think of something else.”

  “Will someone tell me?” Mr. D finally interrupted.

  Patrick looked at me, waiting. I did want to do it, so I guess I was going to tell Mr. D. I shared the concept behind our project. Mr. D seemed intrigued and excited. We were the first to register our idea, so no one else would be allowed to use the carnival in their project. Now, I just had to get my parents to let me go.

  We got to work on our lab. After a few minutes, Mr. D stood up from his desk. “I’ll be back in a few. I’ll be in the copy room if you need me. The door is locked, if you guys leave before I get back, just make sure the door is completely shut.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Mr. D.” Patrick turned and waved at him. Mr. D left and shut the door behind him.

  My eyes widened. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t think that a teacher would leave the room when there were students there. I knew Patrick said he would take care of it, since I didn’t want Mr. D to hear me. But, I guess, on some level, I thought it wouldn’t happen so I didn’t have to sing to begin with.

  “I held up my end of the deal.” He looked at me. “But, if you don’t want to. It’s okay. I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to.”

  I thought about it for a second. I was thankful he was giving me an out. But, I needed to get feedback. There was no one else who seemed remotely interested in doing it. There was no one I could ask or even trust a little. “No. I said I would. I need to. Want to.”

  “You don’t sound sure.”

  I grabbed my MP3 player out of my bag and stared at it. “Just nervous. Remember, you promised me you’d be honest. I need you to be honest. That’s the whole reason why I’m doing this.”

  “I would never lie to you. I’ve been working too hard for you to trust me to blow it like that.” That made sense.

  I knew he had. And I appreciated it, more than he would ever know. “Uh…speakers? You think Mr. D would mind if we used his?”

  “No, I don’t think it’d be a big deal.” He went to Mr. D’s computer and disconnected the speakers. He held out the speaker jack to me. I plugged it into my player and scrolled through to find my song.

  I took a deep breath and exhaled. “You can tell me to stop whenever you want. I’ll understand. Okay?”

  He rolled his eyes. “I won’t. But, okay.”

  There was no more stalling. I didn’t want to chance Mr. D coming back in the middle. I hit play and the song started. It filled the room. At first, I started singing softly, until I was able to forget what I was doing and get lost in the music. Once that happened, I sang at full volume. I pushed out of my mind that I was standing the middle of my physics classroom with an audience of one. I didn’t focus on anything specific. It was like the whole world was blurred in the background. The only thing in the foreground was the music.

  After the song ended, I focused on Patrick. I didn’t remember him asking me to stop. I unplugged my player from the speakers. He didn’t say anything. Suddenly, I was self-conscious again. This was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have talked myself into it.

  I didn’t know how to read his reaction. It looked like he was thinking. “That bad, huh? That’s what I thought. Thanks for putting up with it. Sorry I wasted your time.” The words tumbled out in a whisper.

  I turned away from him. I ran over to my backpack and shoved my stuff in it. I just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible.

  “Wait. Liz! Don’t go. Stop!” He stepped in my path so I couldn’t go anywhere. “I thought you wanted to know what I think.”

  “I already know.” I shook my head trying to get a grip on myself. My words rushed together. “There’s only one reason why you weren’t saying anything. I was awful and you were trying to think of something nice to say, but still be honest. Problem is…you couldn’t. You’re a nice guy and your parents told you that if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. It’s okay. It’s better for me to know now, than at the audition.”

  He stared at me. It felt like his eyes were burning through me. I had to look away, so I stared at my feet.

  “You really think that. Don’t you? You’re not one of those people that fish for compliments. You expect the worst. Wow.” He scratched his head. “Liz, sit down.”

  I didn’t want to. I felt frozen. I wanted to melt into a puddle on the floor and disappear.

  “Please?” His voice was soft. He pulled out a chair for me to sit in. I sat down on the chair. I slumped in the seat and stared at the table.

  I braced myself for his comments. Just because I wanted constructive criticism didn’t mean that I liked it, especially when it was something so personal to me. “Go ahead.”

  I heard him exhale before he started speaking. “You know, you were right about one thing. You don’t hear yourself like others do. You have an amazing voice. I’ve seen Les Miserables and you are so much better than the person that I saw on stage.”

  Okay. Now I knew he had to be lying. Even more so, I couldn’t look at him now. I muttered, “You said you’d tell me the truth.”

  “Look at me.” I couldn’t tell if his gentle voice was ordering me or pleading with me.

  “Uh-uh.”

  “If you did, you can see that I’m telling you the truth.”

  Okay. It would be easier to know if he was telling the truth if I looked in his eyes. It’s always harder for people to lie to you when you looked them in the eye. Not impossible. But harder. The whole ‘eyes are the window to your soul thing’. He was only ever nice to me, so there shouldn’t be anything dark about his soul. It was still scary for me though. I steeled myself for whatever I saw. I lifted my head and looked in his eyes.

  He spoke slowly and deliberately. “You have the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard. Really. There is such, I don’t know… Love, heartache, emotion in it. It conveys so much. It’s amazing. You don’t give yourself nearly enough credit. You’re almost a different person when you sing. You have to audition.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t expecting to here that. He had to be telling me the truth. He never wavered from looking at me directly in the eyes. He seemed genuine in his comments. He had never given me any reason to doubt him before. But still…it was hard for me to process. I searched and searched my brain for something to say. The only thing that came to mind was, “Okay.”

  “Okay? So you believe me? That you’re great?”

  “I guess.” I shrugged my shoulders.

  “Who told you that you were bad? ‘Cause you’re not.” He in
sisted.

  “It doesn’t matter.” I muttered.

  “Well, it seems to matter to you.” He pointed out.

  “My mom.” I answered without any emotion.

  “What? Like when you were a kid or something?” He couldn’t seem to believe it. Wait, it gets better.

  I thought about it. “No. Well, probably. But she did just last week.”

  I tried to push down the tears that I felt welling up in my eyes. I was fighting with myself to maintain control. I was not going to lose it at school, in Mr. D’s room, in front of him. I had always successfully drawn that line and I had to continue to do it.

  “Normally, I say, listen to your parents. But, damn.” He shook his head in disgust. “This time…don’t. I don’t know them or anything, and they are your parents, but your mom is wrong. Really wrong about this. Trust me.”

  I cleared my throat and nodded. “Okay.”

  “So, you’ll do the audition?”

  “You really think I’m okay?”

  “Yes! You’re great!” He seemed so sure.

  I bit my inside cheek. I really wanted to believe him. I wanted to think that I was decent and wouldn’t look stupid trying out. I could take not getting the part, I just couldn’t take embarrassing myself. If I was okay, like Patrick said, then I could take the risk. I didn’t need the part for validation, but it would be nice.

  “So…will you?” He asked again.

  “Okay. I’ll audition, but don’t tell anyone.” Please don’t tell anyone.

  “Okay, but why?” He would never understand.

  “I don’t need it somehow getting back to my folks.” That would not be good. I wouldn’t be able to take any negativity at this point. I was confused enough about it with Patrick and my mom saying contradicting things. I was choosing to believe Patrick, which would send my mom off the deep end.

  “Fair enough.” I was glad he was letting it go at that and I didn’t have to explain further.

  “We should get back to work on the lab before Mr. D gets back.” I got up and walked back over to where we were working.

  We were almost done with the lab when Mr. D returned. He apologized for being gone so long and asked if we had any problems with our lab. We worked out a couple issues we had and finished it up. Everything worked great. We were ready to film it on Monday. I was relieved to have that to cross off my list.

 

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