All I remember is looking at Sophie’s face in the audience. She was with Allen, but she wasn’t paying anyone else attention but to me. I felt the pit in my stomach; only we knew that this song that we were performing was originally a love song about her. She knew the lyrics have been changed, and she knew that this song was the first one I ever wrote about her. What was once sacred and created out of love was now being performed over heartbreak.
This wasn’t the way that I wanted to perform this song.
…
“When I call your name, please stay behind when the bell rings,” Mr. Harrison said as he read off of a piece of paper. “Kim Hahn, Craig Riley, Marco Bennett, Sophie Lee, Bridget Vasquez, and Milo Kamalani.”
My head shot up, reacting to Mr. Harrison calling out my name. I also looked at where Sophie was sitting. She doesn’t look around the room like the rest of the us; I don’t look at anyone else besides her. I quickly turned around, remembering Vero was also in the room. She was already looking at me. All I could do is shrug my shoulders.
By the time the bell rang and the rest of the class left, I took a seat in one of the chairs in the front of the class. To my surprise, Sophie sat int he seat next to me. Of course, she doesn’t say anything to me or even look in my direction.
Mr. Harrison closed the door before he walked towards the 6 of us. Before we started to talk, he gave us a smile. “Thanks for staying after class; if any of you need a late pass to your next class, please let me know afterwards.” He turned around and picked up a small stack of papers from a desk, and handed them out individually to us. I looked down and read it: “Julliard Scholarship Showcase”.
“Every year, Waverly partners up with Julliard and gives juniors the opportunity to not only get fast-tracked into the school, but also are rewarded a full scholarship for their first year there.” My eyes lit up. Was this the thing my dad was referring to?
Mr. Harrison continued on. “Every major picks 6 students to participate in the showcase, and Julliard rewards one student in each division the scholarship. I decided to pick you six because you guys have the skill, work ethic, and potential to continue your studies at a place as studious as Julliard.”
All of us began looking at each other in complete shock, not believing that we were the 6 students chosen to represent the band major–
“Each division also has a dual major participant,” Mr. Harrison continued to explain. “That dual major is restricted to perform under one major, and they can choose which major they choose to represent.” He looked at me directly. “Milo, you would need to decide which major you are representing by the end of the month, as rehearsals will begin in November and the showcase is in the middle of December.”
The late bell rang as Mr. Harrison was wrapping up his conversation with us. “More details will be provided for you six the closer we get to the rehearsals, but I still expect that you guys start brainstorming what you’d like to perform on the Julliard stage.”
The six of us left Mr. Harrison’s classroom while the last of the students roamed through the halls to their next class. Thankfully my next period was lunch, so I wasn’t in any rush to get out of the hallway. I looked up as I saw Sophie passed me, walking fast towards the West Wing. I don’t know what possessed me to say anything but I did, ultimately breaking the silence between us.
“Sophie,” I called out. She quickly turned around, seeming startled to hear me say her name or something. Say something else, dude. “Congrats on being chosen as one of the 6 students for band.”
“Thanks,” she simply said. She turned around and continued walking away from me. Why the hell do I feel the need to keep talking to her?
“Wait, Scout–” I quickly said, not even realizing that the nickname I had for her slipped out from my mouth.
She stopped in her tracks and turned around again. “It’s Sophie.“
“Sorry, it just slipped–“
“Don’t ever call me that again.” She stared me down, seeing very serious in her words. I don’t think I’ve been this close to Sophie since we were together. “For that to even slip after what you did is unfathomable.”
“Unfathomable?” I mocked, feeling offended with her choice of words.
“Unfathomable. Incomprehensible. Inexplicable; or do you need more interesting words to use in the next song you write for your band?” This was the most sassy I’ve seen Sophie since knowing her. I knew exactly what she was getting out now; the song she heard at the performance.
“I don’t need your fancy words to get my point across obviously,” I spat back at her. “Also, why do you care about what I do with my band?”
“I don’t appreciate you using our past relationship to paint this narrative of you being the victim.” She let out a deep breath before she continued. “I know you revised that song.”
“You don’t know what I did or did not do to my song–“
“I’m not stupid, Milo.” Sophie’s face softens a bit, which makes the knot in my stomach feel more present. “I would remember the lyrics to a song that my boyfriend at the time wrote about me.”
I swallowed hard, trying to not react to her allegations. “Despite what you believe, Sophie, I have every right to change, revise, and edit the song that I created.
“Those words all mean the same thing,” Sophie commented before she turned back around towards the Wing.
“Why do you care anyway? Are you not happy living in cello’s paradise with Allen?” I shouted at her, following her down the entrance ramp. Mentioning Allen made her stop. This time, she didn’t turn around. “What? Did I hit a nerve or something?”
“I care because that was once something you wrote out of the kindness of your heart for me. No one has ever written a song about me, and for you to take that and turn it into some smear campaign really shows me your true colors.” Sophie’s brow twitched. It happened when she was hurt. She didn’t think people noticed, but I did. I always noticed.
“It’s just a song. No one even knows who it’s about anyway.” I said. I hate lying to her. I could see she was getting angry again, distancing herself from me as she adjusted her bookbag.
“Go find some other girl to make your muse,” Sophie spat out. “Maybe Ronnie is available.”
I instantly raised an eyebrow. “Ronnie?”
“Ronnie,” Sophie repeated.
“Jealous?”
“Of what?”
“Of Ronnie,” I said, crossing my arms. “She’s this cool girl playing electric guitar in the band, flailing her hair as she shreds her solo. Shit, even I’m jealous of Ronnie–“
“I have more important things to do than to worry about, like winning a scholarship and putting it towards my working application to Juilliard.” One thing that bothered me about Sophie was that she knew that the prospective student program was the very thing that drove us apart. It was like she was bringing this up in hopes that it would tick me off, and I couldn’t let her think that it did.
“You’re right,” I began to say, giving back some of her own medicine. “Whatever you decide to do would be up against my band. I gotta go and tell them the big news later at practice.”
Sophie looked as if she was thinking about what to say next as she bit her bottom lip.
“Good luck,” she simply said.
…
I couldn’t focus on anything else for the rest of the day; everything felt like a complete blur. All I remember was sitting at my desk in my dad’s classroom, doodling on the margin of my sheet music, replaying the conversation I had with Sophie earlier. I finally got out of my own thought bubble once I felt a hard nudge against my arm. I looked over to face Mollie.
“Dude, Mr. Kamalani is gonna bark at you for doodling on your music,” she commented.
“I’m not scared of my dad,” I began to respond. “Besides, it’s not my fault the altos can’t get their shit together so we could move on from this dumb song.”
“Dumb song,” Mollie repeated. “Yikes.”
“I got a lot of shit going on in my mind, the last thing I need to do is worry about–“
“Mr. Kamalani, Ms. Castro,” my dad said, turning around from the board. “Unless you’re discussing the music, I shouldn’t be able to hear your conversation from all the way over here.” We didn’t say anything after that, in which he sighs and continues to address the rest of the class. “Before we wrap it up for the day, I will need the following students to stay behind for a couple of minutes. When I call your name, please see me after class.” He shuffled though some paperwork on top of the grand piano in the middle of the room. “Jacelyn Foster, Trevor Warner, Kellie Goodman, Weston Ashmore–“
I turned my head, shocked to hear Weston’s name get called. The dude has only been here for like 3 minutes—
“Milo Kamalani, and Mollie Sue Castro,” my dad called out our names. Mollie looked at me with a confused face.
“What the hell is this about?” Mollie whispered to me. The bell rang, and everyone that wasn’t called began to leave the classroom. Weston came closer to Mollie and I, specifically sitting in the seat next to Mollie.
“Are we in trouble or something?” Weston asked us.
Mollie shrugged her shoulders. “I swear I didn’t do anything to get me in trouble… yet. I mean, it’s only October–” Before I was able to chime in, my dad closes the classroom door before walking towards the six of us. He seemed to be less up-tight after class hours.
“Thank you guys for hanging back a bit; I know you’d rather be out of school for the day,” my dad began to say with a smile on his face. “I’ll make sure to make this quick.” He begins handing out the piece of paper that I got from my band class earlier; I don’t react to it the same way my other classmates do. “Juilliard specifically works with the juniors at Waverly for an early admission opportunity to their school by putting on a showcase. Each major chooses six students to participate, and Julliard rewards one student in each division fast-tracked admission and a full scholarship for their first year.” I looked over at Mollie; her eyes are glued to the words on the piece of paper. Weston looks at her before looking back up at my dad.
“Each major also has a dual major participant,” he continues to explain, repeating the information that Mr. Harrison shared with me earlier. He finally looks in my direction, ironically with a more relaxed facial expression than normal when he’s in teacher mode. “Mr. Kamalani, you’ll need to choose a major that you will like to represent in the showcase by the end of the month; as I’m sure Mr. Harrison already explained to you.” My dad began walking back and forth as he further explained the details.
“You knew about this?” Mollie nudged my arm. “Why wouldn’t you tell me?!”
“Dude, I found out like 3 periods ago and you weren’t in at lunch,” I whispered back, trying to not let my dad hear us talking. I looked up and saw Weston also looking at us. What is even up with this kid?
“Rehearsals start in November, and are every Wednesday and Thursday until the showcase in December,” my dad continued to explain. “I chose you six not only for your talents, but I feel like you are the students that have the potential to handle the ethics being a student in Juilliard. So good luck, have fun, and please have something prepared by the time rehearsals start.”
Mr. Kamalani dismissed us for the day, and all I could hear is Mollie call out my name in the hallway.
“Milo! Milo!”
I turned around and waited for her to catch up to me.
