Sophomore year had come to an end, and now the hardest part of our high school careers were coming: junior year.
It wasn’t just a day-by-day occurrence anymore; this was now the time that colleges will look at to determine whether or not they want you in their school. My dad had told me early on into sophomore year that I should be thinking about colleges. I laughed it off; all I wanted to do was go back to school, play in the band and sing in the choir, and hang out with Sophie after school.
“Again?” Jennifer asked as she prepped dinner in the kitchen. Reagan and Dylan were in the living room, watching some cartoon on the TV. Micah was in his room, playing what I would believe is some Charli XCX inspired techno beat on his iPad. “Didn’t you just see Sophie yesterday?”
“Today’s a brand new day,” I said, getting my bag ready. Jennifer turns around and looks at me, crossing her arms along her chest. “What?”
“Just because your dad is away at a conference for Spring Break, doesn’t mean you can go buckwild,” she commented. “I hope you have condoms in that bag.”
“Pep!” I reacted, my face now bright red.
“Your dad is oblivious; not me,” Jennifer turned back around into the kitchen and continued preparing food on the counter. “I think he chooses to be; why else would you constantly be hanging out in the pizza parlor with your girlfriend?”
“I happen to enjoy the pizza there,” I commented, grabbing a water from the fridge.
“Uh huh,” Jennifer responded. “I’m just telling you how it is, Milo. I don’t need you two running to me because you two decided to be reckless one night.” I feel my face get even hotter, remembering the time near my birthday that Sophie and I went to Jennifer for help with… lady problems. “I’m way too young to be a grandmother.”
“Pep, please,” I cover my ears as she spoke. I wanted nothing more to escape this conversation. Thankfully, Sophie called my phone at the right time. “Hey, babe… yep, I’m leaving now; I’ll be there in 10 minutes… Love you too.” I hang up my phone and get off the barstool and walk towards the front door. “I’ll text you!”
…
“Again?” I hear Jennifer whisper in the kitchen. “I’m worried about him, Milo.”
“He’s going to be fine, Pep,” I hear my dad speak. “It’s just a difficult time for him. It’s his first break-up.”
“I’m saying the same thing I had to tell Mollie earlier this summer; break-ups hurt, but the work never stops.” Mollie has had a hard summer for sure. I only know because she randomly had texted me one night during summer break. It completely took me off-guard, her message notifications were foreign on my phone. Later that night, I sat on my front stoop, waiting for her to come by. Once I had saw her walking underneath a street light I stood up. Mollie must’ve had saw me since she stopped in place for a moment. She continued walking toward my house; it wasn’t until she got close that I realized something was wrong.
“Mol?” I said, confused to see her here this late, yet alone here at all. “Is everything okay?” She didn’t say anything back; she simply started sobbing in my arms as I hugged her. This was the closest we’ve been since freshman year. “Mol.”
“Aaron and I broke up,” Mollie said through tears. I was speechless, not expecting to hear that. Aaron and Mollie were stronger than ever during sophomore year. We had drifted a part as the months passed in addition to our rocky first year at Waverly, but seeing her be so happy with Aaron made me realize just how much Mollie loved him. I understood what that looked like; in some strange way, it gave me the courage to finally make things official with Sophie.
“Why? What happened?” I pulled her away to finally talk to her, but her head hung low. All I saw were tears falling straight to the ground. I kneeled down in front of Mollie, not wanting to force her to look up at me. “Mol?”
She took a few deep breaths before she lifted her head up. I got up with her. “Aaron got some once in a lifetime deal to be an opener for the Chappell Brothers.” My eyes widen, shocked. That was definitely a once in a lifetime deal. “He leaves for tour in a week.”
“I’m… sorry, Mol,” I genuinely said. “How did he even get that?”
“His dumb, optimistic manager,” Mollie answered, sniffling and wiping her eyes. “Apparently this has been in the talks for a year. A year! A year Aaron knew this was in negotiation and didn’t even bother telling me until a week before!”
“But you’re in his band,” I pointed out. “You’ve been singing lead for two years now.” Mollie started crying again after I said that. “I didn’t mean to upset you, I was just–“
“I quit the band,” Mollie admitted. Another shocker in such a short time-span. “For one, my mom isn’t letting me run off with some boy and his band, and–“
“You’d be leaving dance behind,” I concluded, immediately understanding the circumstances. I sighed. “I’m sorry you’re going though this.” Mollie started to laugh as she continued wiping her tears off of her face.
“Isn’t it crazy,” she began to say. “I should’ve just listened to you when you said he cared about his band more than me.”
“No,” I immediately disagreed. “That was stupid for me to say in the first place.”
“But it was true–“
“You loved him, Mol,” I emphasized. “And anyone with a pair of eyes knew that he loved you back.” Mollie just stared at me, letting the slow falling tears fall from her eyes. “I didn’t realize that until this year; really.”
“This sucks,” Mollie said, putting her head on my shoulder.
I placed my head on top of hers, comforting her in the way that I used to; back when we were just kids. Back when we were best friends. “I know, Mol.”
…
I finally get up from my bed and open my bedroom door. I walk out passed the kitchen and see Jennifer and my dad standing there. They stop talking once they notice me standing.
“Hey, buddy,” my dad began to say.
“My room is literally around the corner,” I commented. “No need to stop talking about me now that I am here.”
“Milo,” Jennifer began to say as I walked past the two adults, getting a snack from the cabinet. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine,” I simply said, walking out of the kitchen with a bag of chips in my hand. “I just want to relax before school starts next week.” I plopped down on the sofa, next to my younger brother, Micah. He looks at me when I reach for the remote.
“Hey! I’m watching that!” he whined.
“I’ve been hearing this same damn episode of Bluey all day,” I told him, annoyed.
“Mommy!”
“Milo,” my dad intervened.
“What?” I looked at my dad, frustrated at everyone in this house at this point. He started walking to the back door of the kitchen; the ones that goes straight to the studio downstairs.
“Come downstairs for a minute.” I sighed, leaving the bag of chips on the sofa. It wasn’t a surprise that I heard Micah immediately grab it for himself.
I walked down the studio stairs and stopped once I saw my dad in the equipment area, grabbing a guitar from the supply closet.
“Dad, I’m not in the mood to learn anything new with the electric guitar,” I pleaded, sitting on the piano bench, watching my dad tune the guitar. “Dad? Dad?!” He couldn’t hear me over the practice riffs he played on the guitar. Can’t lie, it sounded pretty sick.
He looked back up, taking the guitar off from his body and placing it on the stand next to him. He grabs a folding chair, opening it in front of me and sits down. “I know you’re having a hard time with your break-up with Sophie.”
“There’s nothing I can do about it,” I said nonchalantly. “It is what it is.”
“I know you love her, bud.” I begin bouncing my leg in place, unwillingly at this point. I didn’t want to get into this; not with my dad. “I know how it feels to have your very first heartbreak like that.”
“Jennifer broke up with you at one point?” I genuinely asked.
My dad shook his head no. “It was when your mom passed away.” Yeah, he won that debate.
“Dad,” I began to try to put together a tangible sentence about this topic. “I don’t want to have to look at her in band and think about why our relationship didn’t work out.”
“Why did you guys decide to break up in the first place?”
“Things just got complicated,” I answered vaguely. The truth of the matter was that Sophie felt like she lost her identity being with me. Throughout sophomore year, my friends became her friends when we got together. If I was around, it was most likely that Sophie was there too. It got to the point where she began to feel like my shadow.
It also didn’t help that major wise, we both probably did the worst in those classes. We weren’t really a good influence when we were together. We used to cut our 8th period class just so that we could hang out in the treehouse, or in the studio space before my parents got home. A lot of that time spent during that time was… well, you know.
“Not to sound insensitive, but you guys are 16. What could’ve possibly been more complicated than the classes you’re taking in school?”
“She spent a lot of time with me, dad.” Sophie spent majority of her time with me over the past year, and although I won’t tell him this, she had expressed she felt most like herself while she was doing her Juilliard future students program. I wouldn’t ever tell Sophie this, but her excessive time in the program was starting to rub me off the way. I started to feel like she would rather send time with other prospective students in the program instead of her own boyfriend. “We both felt like we were just… too dependent on each other, I guess.
“Sounds like you don’t agree,” my dad pointed out.
“I do,” I quickly said, dismissing his comment. “But I’m fine, dad. I think it’s best that we both focus on things for college, especially if we’re going to go to the schools we want to go.”
“That’s a very mature outlook on things,” my dad commented, and continued to play the guitar. I knew my dad played the guitar, but to him it’s been years since he did it every day. He mentioned that he used to be in a band with Jennifer and a couple of their friends back in high-school. What surprised me is that he actually looked cool playing it. “Have you ever thought about doing something outside of school this year?” Huh?
“With my schedule?” I joked, now walking towards him and the guitar. He looks up at me, noticing me looking at the guitar.
“Maybe you should put some of your focus this year on a new project,” he mentioned. “Like start your own band or something.”
“That’s basic,” I dismissed, rolling my eyes.
“It’s something on your resume for schools that are looking for leaders in their craft,” my dad mentioned. “At least, that’s what I heard for Berklee.” Boston Conservatory at Berklee was my top college. I went to a couple of campus tours and open houses last year whenever I had the chance, and that chance being whenever Jennifer had a dance competition with her academy in Massachusetts. I pictured myself walking around the campus, taking music classes and living away from home for four years. It was something I was excited about doing once I graduate Waverly next year.
But, I’ve yet to do junior year, in which something tells me this isn’t going to be the easiest year.
“I don’t know,” I finally answered. “I don’t think I’m ready to be going out there and recruit people for a band in junior year. Everyone already is a part of some band or group, especially after Aaron and his band–“
“Yeah.” My dad said. He knows exactly what happened. “Maybe you should try talking to Mollie.”
“And have her join yet another band? She’d punch me right in the face if I did.” It was true though. I couldn’t imagine Mollie wanting to join anything this year that involves music.
“But this could be something that you both put together,” my dad suggested. “Mollie joined someone else’s band. With her a part of the founding process, she has something that is evenly yours and hers.” My dad then begins to rip some sort of crazy chord on the guitar that echoes the entire studio room. It isn’t long after that Jennifer is yelling from on top of the stairs, saying that the house is shaking. My dad laughs and puts the guitar back on its stand. The guitar is shiny and orange; sort of vintage looking. I wonder if this was dad’s when he was in his own band.
“Dad?”
“Yeah, bud?” he answered, placing the guitar back in the storage closet.
“Why didn’t your band work out if they were all your friends?” I asked. My dad turned around and looked at me before answering the question.
“Personally, my priorities had to change,” he began to answer. “You were born and I has to take care of you first.” Ahh, so much for having a cool dad in a world famous band.
Letters From Liz. 