I couldn’t stay awake today in school. I haven’t been able to stay asleep through the night, especially after everything that happened in the studio with Aaron a couple of weeks ago.
“We’re okay, Mols?” Aaron stopped and asked me after closing the studio door shut. I faintly flashed a smile, hoping that was enough for him to drop the conversation. Aaron returned the smile back; he either didn’t want to get into it with me, or he really thought I was alright. Either way, he kissed me gently on the top of my hand, the opposite of what happened inside the studio not too long ago.
“I love you, you know that right?” Aaron said after kissing my hand. I nodded my head.
“I love you too,” I said to Aaron.
“Mols? Mollie? Mollie Sue?”
“Mollie Sue Castro?” I heard a voice shout out. I looked up, noticing everyone in my class look at me. I looked up at the teacher who’s looking at me. Fuck.
…
During passing, I opened my locker and looked at myself through my compact mirror. I look horrible today. I reached into my makeup bag to put some sort of color on my face when I heard someone call my name.
“Hey Mollie,” Ronnie walked over to me and said. She looks at the little bag in my hand. “Touching up your lip gloss after a make out session?”
“Shut up, Ron,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I didn’t even see Aaron today.”
“You guys good?” Ronnie asked, clearly concerned. “You guys are inseparable.”
“I just didn’t see him today, okay?” I said, now looking at Ronnie. “Maybe he’s not in school today.”
“He was in band class today,” Ronnie commented. “The first time in forever it seems like…” I put my makeup back in my bag and shoved it into my locker. I grabbed my binder for my vocal class and shut my locker closed.
“I don’t have time for your condescending conversation,” I said to Ronnie. “I get it enough from Milo; I don’t need another person doing that shit.”
“Yet you and Milo are still friends,” Ronnie pointed out, rolling her eyes.
“We’re not friends,” I said to Ronnie for what seemed like the 1,000th time. “My dumb older sister is married to his dad.”
“But you still allow his words to get to you,” Ronnie emphasized. “You’re not obligated to ever talk to him just because your family and his are connected.” The bell began to ring, which meant it was time to start the next class. I don’t respond to Ronnie; I walked away from her and my locker with my binder to go to my last class of the room.
My locker wasn’t too far from the vocal room, so I ended up being one of the first to get there… of course when I’m not hanging out with Aaron. I walked into the room to see Mr. Kamalani at his desk. He looks up before looking down again at the papers in front of his desk.
“Good Afternoon, Ms. Castro,” he greeted me.
“Hi,” I simply said, walking to my seat to drop my binder on the desk. I turned around with my bag and coat, walking to the closet to hang my things up. Mr. Kamalani had everyone in his class put their things in the closet when it was time for a serious rehearsal; he ran rehearsal time like it was boot camp at times. But, there’s a method to his madness.
I walked into the closet to hang up my things when I heard Mr. Kamalani greet another student; this time, it was Milo.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Kamalani,” he said. I heard Milo’s voice speak afterwards.
“Whatever,” Milo responded back.
“It’s just another day of class, Milo,” Mr. Kamalani said. This was the first time I heard him call Milo by his first name in class.
“Did you know I was on my way because of the AirTag or something?” Milo said.
“No, I trust you to do the right thing while you’re in school,” Mr. Kamalani responded back. “Just how I trust that you went to the West Wing today to actually practice your music.”
“What else would I have done there?” Milo asked.
“Meet up with Sophie, as you always do,” Mr. Kamalani said in a nonchalant way. I didn’t hear Milo say anything back. “I can’t look after everything little thing you do.”
“I wasn’t with Sophie,” Milo said back.
“I’m not fighting with you about this, Milo,” Mr. Kamalani said in a stern voice. “You’re bound to make your own decisions; just know that you’re making poor ones after what happened with Sophie back at the house.” I scrunched my eyebrows, curious to what they were talking about. What happened between Milo and Sophie?
“Thanks to you and Jennifer, she’s terrified to even be seen with me,” Milo spat back. Jennifer?
“You both shouldn’t have been alone in the house when we were there; you know I cannot control Jennifer and what she says,” Mr. Kamalani said back.
“We were there to practice!” Milo shouted out.
“Milo Kamalani, I am not about to have this conversation with you again; especially at school,” Mr. Kamalani nearly whispered once the second bell rang. “The fact of the matter is we found you and Sophie in the studio, making out with barely nothing on. You can’t be upset if our eyes are on you and Sophie now.” My eyes widened as I listened to the conversation. Milo and Sophie… did it?
I didn’t know what to feel after hearing their conversation. It made me upset in a way; the Milo I knew wouldn’t have done something so stupid for a girl. But, this was Sophie, and I knew that Sophie has always been bad news. Milo wouldn’t be the person he is today if Sophie didn’t get to him. I snapped out of it once I started to hear more of our choir mates walk into the classroom. I ran back to my bag and coat and blended in with everyone else coming into the closet. From the side of my eye, I see Milo walk into the closet, hanging his coat and bag on one of the hooks.
“I need everyone out and in their position in 5 minutes,” Mr. Kamalani shouted inside the closet. I looked over to Milo, clearly upset with the conversation he just had with his dad. I couldn’t help but just look at Milo. Is this who he truly was? Is this the person I called my best friend for all these years? How could Milo accuse me of doing things with Aaron as he was doing them with Sophie this whole time? He lost his virginity before I did, and with a person he can’t even call his girlfriend.
I simply walked past him, looking away as if I didn’t just witness Milo’s skeletons being pulled out from the vocal classroom.
Letters From Liz. 