I haven’t had the courage to talk to Sophie since the day of our performance. I felt like she was too embarrassed to talk to me too; I don’t blame her considering that her mother literally saw the devil in me when she grabbed Sophie away. I didn’t think her mom had a problem with me, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe she blamed me for something that Sophie did, or didn’t do; who knows at this point. Regardless, I wanted to give Sophie her space and wait until she felt like she was ready to finally talk to me. I didn’t realize that two weeks later, she still wouldn’t come and talk to me.
I watched Sophie as we rehearsed a piece in our band class, wondering how she will react when I finally go up and talk to her.
Once the bell rang and everyone began to pack their things, I waited for Sophie after class. I walked to her desk as she was putting her binder in her backpack. She looked up to see me standing there.
“Milo,” Sophie said in a slightly shocked tone.
“Hey, Scout,” I greeted her, wanting to make this interaction as comfortable as possible. “You want to rehearse in the West Wing today?”
“Sure,” Sophie simply answered, which I was surprised to hear. We both walked out of the classroom together and went to the West Wing.
…
“So, the piece we’re learning now,” Sophie began to say as she was taking her music binder back out. “There’s a section that seems to be confusing to me because of the major and minor chord changes—“
“Scout?” I said as I put my hand on top of hers, slowing her down. “Are you alright?”
“Of course,” Sophie faintly smiled, trying to mask everything. “So this piece—“
“You know you can still tell me anything, right?” I reassured her. “Like, you know I’m here to listen, right?” Sophie looked at me for a moment, not really knowing what to do or say next.
“I know,” she finally said. I leaned back, finally giving Sophie her space as she took in a deep breath. “I’m sorry for being radio silent the last couple of weeks. I didn’t mean to shut you out and when I did, I was nervous because I thought you didn’t want me to talk to you anymore.”
“Scout, that wasn’t even a thought I had,” I began to say. “I was worried about you, especially with what happened with your mom and—“
“I’m sorry that she spoke to you that way,” Sophie immediately said, as if she needed to get it off her chest. “She shouldn’t have took my mistake on you. She just assumes that other people–“
“Influence your decisions?” I finished her sentence. She simply nodded. I know how that feels. “I get it. Literally my parents think the same thing.” Sophie smiles, seemingly relieved that this went smoothly. I didn’t want to ask her what “mistake” she was referring to; I felt like anything was better to talk about than the one thing that she was stressed about for the last two weeks.
…
“Did you figure out what you’re going to perform for the dual major showcase?” Sophie asked me as we sat in the rehearsal room, tuning our instruments.
“Not yet,” I said, flipping through the pages of my music binder. “I feel like it’s so cliche to sing and play the drums; like I’m not in a band like that.”
“And you never wanted to be in one?” she asked.
“In a band?” I repeated as she nodded her head. “When I was younger, yeah, but that vision went away as I got older.”
“You’d be so cool in a band though,” Sophie mentioned. “Like, you have such a unique singing voice, your band would totally stand out from the others.” I smiled at her words; they made me feel warm inside.
“You’re just saying that,” I teased Sophie, getting close to her face as I did. I could see the wind being taken out of her breath when I did.
“I’m stating a fact,” Sophie said, pressing her finger on my forehead as she playfully pushed me back. “Seriously Milo, you should consider starting a band so that by the time you’re a senior, you’re this huge rockstar in Waverly.”
“Do you just want to see what it feels like kissing a rockstar or something?” I continued to tease her, missing our banter. I missed sitting this close to Sophie; even more so, I missed how her lips felt whenever I kissed her. I gently kissed Sophie on the lips, yearning for her touch. As I expected, her lips were soft and tasted like vanilla sugar.
“Now that’s fiction,” Sophie teased back, giggling as she tasseled my hair. She got up once the bell rang, ending our lunch period. This period always feels like it comes and goes in 15 minutes.
“Can you hang out after school or,” I drifted off, knowing the answer once Sophie looked at me. Still grounded, huh?
“You can walk with me to the bus stop; technically that’s not us hanging out after school,” Sophie said slyly, smirking at me. She was getting pretty good at doing this flirting thing with me; I was enjoying every minute of it.
“That is a fact,” I responded back, mimicking her early conversation. She laughed as we gathered our things, and went our separate ways for the rest of the day.
…
I have developed this habit of being one of the first kids to come to our vocal class; not because I was eager to come here, but because the West Wing was closer to the vocal room than the lunch room is. My dad was erasing the chalkboard when he saw me walk into the classroom.
“Hey, kid,” my dad said as he cleaned the chalk off of his hands. “You’re here earlier than usual; you usually have like 5 more minutes before you’d get here.”
“Sophie had to go to her next class,” I said as I took my binder out of my backpack. “She has a test today.” My dad didn’t say anything else; he just walked over to his desk and gathered some papers together.
“You guys were in the West Wing?” he finally asked as he started to sort out the papers. I rolled my eyes, knowing what he truly wanted to know.
“I was there practicing for the dual major showcase,” I said, looking up at my dad. “Sophie was there studying for her test. That’s fiction, Milo.
“I just asked if you were at the West Wing,” my dad scoffed, stapling pages of sheet music together for class. “I didn’t need the details–“
“Oh, like you weren’t assuming the worst,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“I’m just saying, Milo; I was once your age,” he looked up as he spoke. “I know what boys your age do.” I think about kissing Sophie in the rehearsal room, realizing that’s something we tend to always do when we’re there. Fact, but I won’t let him know that. It wasn’t long after that Mollie walked into the classroom. I quickly glanced over at her, but looked back down at my binder. “Good Afternoon, Mollie,” my dad greeted her.
“Hi,” Mollie greeted back, sitting at her seat.
“Ready to learn a new piece today?” He asked as he began to put sheet music on each desk.
“Another new song? What, are we entering some never ending singathon or something?” I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. Mollie and I don’t really speak to each other these days, but there was no doubt that she would say funny things out loud, especially if they were things we were all thinking.
“Oh, you think that’s funny too, Milo?” my dad said, crossing his arms along his chest.
“I mean, we do have enough songs to sing if we were ever invited to some charity stream raising a million dollars,” I added, slightly looking at Mollie. She wasn’t looking up from her desk, but I could see her smirking to herself when I spoke to my dad.
“Well, you want to be the best, you have to know all of the best music out there,” my dad said, finally handing me the sheet music we were learning today. I skimmed through the pages and my smile began to fade. I looked over at Mollie, now looking up from the desk and at my dad.
“Mr. Kamalani, are you serious?” Mollie finally said, holding tithe sheet music up. “What even is this?”
“It’s the song we are submitting to NYSSMA next month,” my dad answered, smiling. “Welcome to Waverly High vocal, guys.”
Letters From Liz. 