I can’t stop bouncing my leg in place as I wait for the strings section to come into the room. It’s the night of the dual major showcase; the night where I finally show the rest of Waverly what I’ve been working on for the past couple of weeks. My father told me that this showcase used to be different when he was a student. Apparently, the showcase was more of an ensemble thing; it was only recently that it came more of an individual showcase for the dual major students. I feel like this showcase was the one time that I felt my dad proud of me. The pressure of making this the perfect performance to everyone’s standards makes it just as nerve-wrecking as any other performance.
Before I allow my thoughts to roam further in my head, the band door opens and in comes Sophie. She’s wearing a black dress with sparkles on the sleeves. She even has a hair clip in the shape of a treble clef in it. I couldn’t help but smile in awe. She’s even more beautiful than I can imagine.
“Hey Scout,” I said, getting up from my seat. She walks over to me as she lets out an anxious breath. “Nervous?”
“Super nervous,” Sophie answered, shaking her hands. “This is possibly the most nerve-wrecking performance I’ve had to date.”
“Even more than the showcase when you had your first solo?” I recalled. I remember that night so vividly. Although she was nervous walking up to her place on stage, her violin playing said otherwise. She was a natural talent on stage.
“Considering how hard this piece is; yes,” Sophie emphasized. I laugh at the way she’s handling her anxiety.
“I already know you’re going to be amazing,” I said, staring intently at Sophie. I couldn’t help but stare at her, noticing the mascara and lip gloss on her face. I wonder what flavor she chose to wear. Sophie smiles, noticing just how long I’ve been looking at her.
“What?” Sophie questioned.
“Nothing,” I began to say.
“If I have a zit on my face, just tell me,” Sophie stated. I shook my head quickly before any words came out of my mouth.
“Your way of coping with your nerves turns you into a comedian, huh?” I joked. Sophie finally smiled as she rolled her eyes, letting out a shaky breath. At least I finally got her to smile.
“What if I mess up?” Sophie began to question out loud. “No matter how much I’ve practiced, I can’t seem to focus on the music. My mind is–” She looks up at me, slightly blushing. I feel my own face getting hot with the thought.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I suggested, nervous to know what Sophie will say. The truth is: we haven’t spoken about that day since it happened. We never spoke about the way we couldn’t keep each others hands off each other, or the way our lips couldn’t be apart before yearning to touch again. We never spoke about the beautiful sounds she made that vibrated through my own body, or the way she ran her fingers through my hair as she did. We never spoke about the moment we both just laid next to each other in the treehouse as I held her in my arms.
“Scout?” I turned my head toward Sophie, noticing she was quiet for a long time now. I though she might’ve fell asleep, but when she turned her head to face me, I see it in her face. The reality of the situation was seeping in. “Hey,” I gently said, giving her my undivided attention. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Sophie said as she shook her head, readjusting her body.
“Clearly something’s wrong,” I stated, getting up alongside Sophie. She looks on the ground for her sweater and quickly puts it on, covering her bare skin. “Sophie?”
“I shouldn’t have done this,” Sophie says more to herself than to me. She’s frantically putting her clothes back on in sheer panic. “Bloody hell, I shouldn’t have done this–“
“Sophie,” I say once more, trying to calm her down. Anything that I do or say isn’t working. Before I can say anything else, I notice the light of the garage door turn on, signaling the door to open. I pushed Sophie back down close to the door, out of sight of my grandparents entering their home. Once I see the coast is clear, I release Sophie, who continues to panic as she gets her things together. “Sophie, relax–“
“How can you tell me to relax?!” Sophie spat out. “Look at where we are, Milo. We are in the treehouse together, without anyone knowing where we are, doing what we just did!” I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed hearing Sophie talk about our first time like this. Was it not what she expected our first time to be like this?
“Is this not what you wanted?” I asked. It was the only thing I could say after experiencing such an intimate moment with her. She looked at me with this certain look; this look of disgust. Something told me this wasn’t the way she imagine her first time being like, in which I immediately shut down. Her cellphone begins to ring, in which she panics once she realizes it’s her mom. Without saying anything else, she hurries out of the treehouse.
The longer we waited to address the elephant in the room, the more I felt like she regrets what we shared. She shook her head before looking at me.
“I have to focus on the piece,” Sophie answered. “The strings section have something to prove tonight and I don’t want to mess that up for us.” I couldn’t help but scrunch my brows together, feeling confused about Sophie’s answer.
“That’s all you’ve been doing, Sophie. Every time I try to talk to you about what we did–” I began to say before feeling Sophie’s hand cover up my mouth.
“Keep your voice down!” Sophie whispered. “The other people are just in the room next door!”
“Soph, you can’t just play the conversation away,” I said, confronting her. “I understand that this means a lot to you and the strings, but you do realize this is my dual major performance and even I’m trying to still put you before it–“
“Your performance?” Sophie repeated, seeming annoyed now. “I get that you get all the credit for putting this piece together, but the strings are just as important as you to make this performance doable.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I tried to explain. “I’m just trying to understand where the hell we stand after the day in the tree–“
“Milo,” Sophie tried to talk over me, and at this point I was frustrated that she wouldn’t acknowledge it.
“Do you regret it or something?” I spat out. “Do you wish it never happened or something, or was it so damn traumatic that you choose to block out the fact that it happened?”
“What?” Sophie asked, seeming flustered now.
“Do you regret us having sex?” I bluntly said out loud. Before Sophie can react, the door to the band room opens, which makes her jump up and turn around. I sighed and rolled my eyes, seeing that it was Aaron. He seems to be taken aback once he sees us standing in the room.
“Don’t mind me,” Aaron said as he puts his hands up. “Just coming to get a working mic stand for my girlfriend.” I clench my jaw, annoyed at his grandioso way of saying hey, I’m in here just getting a stand for Mollie. “Do you need me to grab you one for your girlfriend, Milo?”
“I gotta go,” Sophie said, running out of the band room past Aaron. Aaron turns back around to look at me.
“What’s your girlfriend’s problem?” Aaron said as he opens the closet in the back of the room.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” I corrected him, trying to play things off as normal.
“Whatever you say,” Aaron said as he grabs a stand. He turns around to give me one final look before leaving the room. “Good luck on your performance tonight with the strings…”
“Good luck with your performance using Mollie as your lead vocalist,” I spat back, gathering my things together.
“If anyone is using anyone, it’s you,” Aaron responded back defensively. “Seriously; you’re leading that poor girl into thinking you’re into her, when really you’re using her and her section to make you look like a saint.”
“The same way you’re using the best vocalist in our grade just so that you can get your band noticed,” I admitted. I must’ve hit a nerve or something because Aaron looks at me as if there’s some truth in what I said. There is truth in what I said.
“You’re just mad that Mollie wanted to work with me instead of you,” Aaron said, almost scoffing at me. “It’s okay though; you’re working with the weak links of Waverly–“
“She knows you’re using her,” I crossed my arms, putting some pressure on him.
“You think she believes you?” Aaron debated back. “After everything you put her through this year?”
“She was my best friend before you went and fucked her head up,” I spat out, getting angry now.
“You did that!” Aaron yelled out. “You made her feel small by putting another girl before her. You made her think no one could actually love her for who she is. You made her think that she wasn’t good enough because she wasn’t a dual major. You made her feel like she didn’t mattered, all because you allowed a girl like Sophie get in the way of your friendship.”
“A girl like Sophie?” I repeated, now feeling defensive.
“A girl that’s easy,” Aaron responded. “A girl that lets you fuck without calling her your girlfriend.” I wanted nothing more than to punch this douchebag in the face. I wanted nothing more than to storm out of this room and find Mollie, confronting her for breaking her promise. I found myself walking towards Aaron looking directly in his face.
“You say anything about Sophie like that ever again, you’re going to regret it.” I said sternly. Saved by the door, Mr. Harrison walks into the band room looking for both Aaron and I.
“Serrano! Kamalani! In your places!” Mr. Harrison demanded. I walked out of the room, not turning back to see Aaron walk down the other direction. I felt nothing but rage in that moment. I wanted nothing more to find Mollie and scream. I thought I knew Mollie better than this. I thought Mollie had enough decency to at least hear me and promise she would keep this to herself. Out of all of the people she could’ve possibly told, she told the one person that will tell the entire school, just to hurt me.
I look toward the room of the strings section, watching them get ready for the performance. I purposely look at Sophie, who seems to be comfortable and laughing with Allen. She hasn’t said more than a sentence or two since the treehouse. She’s been distant since that night in the treehouse. While I’m trying to keep my sanity together, and keep her image clean, she’s out here pretending like everything is okay. Like we’re okay. Like everything we didn’t share with each other in the treehouse meant nothing. Absolutely nothing.
I walk past the room, turning around in the direction Aaron was walking.
Letters From Liz. 