My mind has about 30 different tabs open, and I don’t know what to focus on. I’m sitting in a room in the West Wing, bouncing my leg anxiously as I wait for Aaron’s band teacher call us up to the stage. I didn’t realize just how theatrical these showcases are compared to the regular concerts everyone else does. From my understanding, dual major showcases have recruiters in the audience. Apparently, if they are interested in a certain student, they can sponsor them for the school they wish to go to when they graduate. Depending how early on they sponsor you, the better chances you had on making an impact in the industry you desire to work in.

I only know all of this because of Aaron. His rehearsals have been pretty intense as today got closer. He wasn’t the Aaron that would reassure me if I missed a note or forgot a lyric in the song. He was now the “get it right the first time I tell you” Aaron that rubbed me off the wrong way. It was confusing, once we were alone and out of practice, he was the Aaron I knew. The Aaron I loved.

The door opens and I immediately stand up, thinking it was Aaron or Mr. Harrison to tell us we were up. I tilted my head when I realized it was not either one of them; it was Milo.

“What are you doing here–” I began to question, but Milo had other plans for this interaction.

“You told your stupid boyfriend?” Milo immediately asked. I scrunched my brows together, feeling even more confused than before.

“What?”

“Don’t play stupid, Mollie,” Milo spat out. “That shit isn’t gonna work this time.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re even talking about,” I finally said, getting annoyed now.

“I thought the least we could do is still respect each other,” Milo said. “And now I have your boyfriend threaten to call Sophie out of her name because you decided to tell him her business.”

“Wait, you think I told Aaron about you and Sophie?” I genuinely asked.

“He knows, Mollie,” Milo emphasized. “He literally just told me the exact same thing that I told you to keep to yourself.”

“I didn’t tell him–” I tried to explain to Milo. I tried to explain to Milo that I meant that I said I wouldn’t tell anyone about what they did. Who the hell told Aaron? “You sure Sophie isn’t opening her mouth and telling people?”

“Sophie’s not like that,” Milo answered, angry that I would’ve even say something like that about her.

“Oh, but you think it’s like me to tell someone a secret that I told you I wouldn’t tell?” I rationalized. Not only was I feeling attacked in this conversation, but now I felt like I was being antagonized for something that I didn’t do.

“I don’t know who you are anymore, Mollie! I don’t know if you told him out of anger, or out of spite, or if you and Aaron are so miserable that you guys get off talking about other people and their lives!” I looked at Milo as he spoke, trying so hard to not let him get the best of me. I’m trying so hard to not cry in this moment; not because I was overwhelmed with everything that’s happening, but because Milo believed I was this horrible human being. Nothing I could say would change his mind.

“Believe what you want to believe, Milo. I don’t care,” I said, defeated.

“So you’re not going to admit telling him? You’re gonna stand here and pretty much tell me that you broke a promise, and now Sophie is probably going to stop talking to me because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut?”

Before I could respond, Mr. Harrison opens the door to the room. He looks at Milo before looking at me.

“Aaron is on stage already, the set begins in 10 minutes,” Mr. Harrison says to me. “Milo, didn’t I tell you to stay with your team?” Milo didn’t say anything else. He simply walked past Mr. Harrison and out toward the hallway. I’m still trying to fight back tears.

I find my way towards the stage, seeing Aaron and his band prepping the instruments before the set starts. I simply walk to the microphone stand and adjust the height of it, not saying a word.

“Alright Mols,” Aaron walks over to say as he gets his guitar strap on. “We’re going to change the setlist due to the limited time we have; I think it would be best to perform ‘So Long, Goodnight” instead.” I don’t say anything back, and for once… Aaron doesn’t notice. He shouts to the rest of the band, letting us know of the change.

“This is our moment, guys,” Aaron shouts to us. “We have the potential to get recruited tonight; something that we’ve been working hard for so long. He have the most potential out of all of these performers tonight, so let’s show them what they want to see, alright?!”

“Got it, bro!” Both the guys responded back. Aaron looks at me and walks up to me like a military agent of some sort.

“Alright?!” Aaron yells out at me. I look up to him, seeing fragments of the person Milo said he was. He’s just using you so that his band can go far. He’s more in love with his band than his actual girlfriend. “You hear me, Castro?!”

Castro? Maybe it was true. One single tear ran down my right eye as I looked at Aaron, unable to see the boy I fell in love with anymore.

“Shit,” Aaron said as he checked his phone, getting up from the couch in the studio. He zips up his hoodie and begins to gather his stuff. Another time that Aaron and I got close to finally having or first time, ruined due another meeting of some sorts. “Dean is calling me.”

“Of course he is,” I said, getting up as I put my blouse back on. Aaron doesn’t say anything back; he walks away and answers the call. I looked around this studio space that I’ve become so custom to being in; if we weren’t in here rehearsing for some show, it was Aaron and I hanging out, in hopes that maybe this would finally be the time it happens.

Aaron walks back over to me, ending the call as he gets closer. He looks down at me to reach for his bag that I was supposedly sitting next to. “I have to meet Dean at his office to talk about some business stuff–“

“Again?” I asked, annoyed that this has become the new norm for Aaron and I. I simply don’t remember the last time we even went somewhere without it being band related. “How much business stuff can you guys talk about?”

“There’s more to the band than you see, Mols,” Aaron commented as he put his jacket on. “You get to do the fun part of it.” He smiled at me. I couldn’t help but sigh, knowing what that smile does to me.

“You promise that we’ll hang out afterwards? Just me and you?” I stood up in front of him, straightening the collar of his jacket. “Without talking about the band?”

“Of course,” Aaron smiled as he kissed my forehead. “Once I handle this business and get everything in order, we’re going to have the best time ever. We’re so close to getting what we want, Mols. We’re in this together.” His reassurance made me smile.

“Text me when you’re around,” I said. Aaron nods his head before his cellphone rang again. He turns around and walks out, answering the call. He never did text me that day.

“Yeah,” I said with tears in my eyes. Aaron’s eyes softened when I said. We both turned our head once we hear Mr. Harrison speak on the other side of the stage.

“Next on our program, we have Aaron Serrano from our freshman class. Outside of Waverly, he is the lead guitarist of his very own band, Quiet Division. Accompanying him tonight is freshman vocalist, Mollie Sue Castro.” The curtain opens and I see the audience.

The curtain opens and I see the audience. Standing on the stage in my dance outfit, I take a deep breath.

I stand on the stage with Aaron and his band, letting out a deep breath.

I smile as I spot Aaron in the audience, watching me dance at my recital. The first person I ever allowed to come to one of my shows. He smiles back, and I begin to dance.

I let the remainder of the tears fall down my cheeks before I hear Aaron play the chords of the song.

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.

It was a late night at Jennifer’s studio for me. I was exhausted having had vocal rehearsal after school for the showcase tomorrow night, and then run straight here in order to finish this dance piece for the recital in a couple of weeks. Jennifer had left for a moment to go home and put the girls down for the night; she trusted me enough to be alone in the dance studio, but didn’t trust me for anything else. It was probably because it was the most serious I was about something in my life. I grew up in this studio. I still remember the days that our parents would come to our dance festivals and watch the different performances in each division. Jennifer, my own sister, was the catalyst for all of the dancers in the neighborhood. Almost every dancer within the neighborhood came to this academy; while some of them took up dance as just an after school activity, very few stayed within the academy. In a sense, I felt like the academy was more of my home than my actual home. This is the place I grew up in. This is truly my safe space.

I continued to practice the dance piece in the studio, allowing the sweat drip down my back as I danced. The music stops and I land my ending position, trying to catch my breath. I hear someone clapping behind me; I rolled my eyes thinking it was Jennifer watching me dance. I turned around to say something to her, like ‘why are you so surprised, you choreographed this dance‘, but was surprised to see someone else.

“What are you doing here?” I asked Milo as he stood at the other side of the room.

“You should know that Jennifer drives me home on the nights I have rehearsal,” Milo said as he sat down on the bench. It bothered me that he was sitting in the studio, sitting in my safe space.

“Well I’m never actually looking for you,” I said as I turned around, walking toward my bag on the floor. “So I wouldn’t know.”

“Funny,” Milo began to say in a sarcastic way. “That wasn’t the case when you saw Sophie and I at the park a week ago.” I immediately freeze in place. Oh my God, did Jennifer say something to him?

“Who says I did?” I turned around and asked.

“Mol,” Milo deadpanned, not entertaining the question. “I don’t care what you do, and would never go out of my way to tell your mom that you were somewhere with a person–“

“The difference is that Aaron’s my boyfriend–“

“Yeah, you mention it every chance you get,” Milo interrupted me. “That still doesn’t answer the question in why would you tell my dad that I was in the park with Sophie. That wasn’t any of your business–“

“Where is this even coming from?” I asked, getting louder. “You get a girl to finally kiss you and all of a sudden you’re the man?” I scoffed as I looked at him. “Please. You’re still the awkward little music freak that I have to save in order for the bullies to not stuff you in a locker at gym–“

“You think you’re special?” Milo begins to laugh. “You’re the girlfriend of a boy that loves his stupid little band more than his actual girlfriend.” I scrunched my eyebrows together, furious at his allegation. “I hear him talk all day in band class, and you never tend to be the subject of the conversation.”

“That girl changed you,” I said, disgusted at his behavior. “You seriously let some girl change your entire personality. It’s sad, really. What? She let you smash and now you’re wrapped around her finger?” I start to laugh, thinking that I got the last one in this conversation. Something was different this time. He didn’t do his usual whine-complain thing he does when I say something absurd like that. I say it to get a reaction, wanting to really find out what it was about Sophie that completely changed him. He wasn’t the same person I entered Waverly High with. That version of Milo was forever gone.

Or maybe fragments of it are still there. I look at Milo’s face. His brows quietly rested back in place. Any color on his face immediately disappeared. It looked like he was about to vomit any second now. My face completely drops, putting together everything like a puzzle I’ve been trying to find the last missing piece for. I went through various amounts of emotions in the time span of the last minute; in control, confusion, revelation.

“Oh my god.” It was all I was able to say as I looked at Milo. Milo froze in place, unable to speak in this moment. “You and Sophie did… it, didn’t you?” I finally asked. Milo’s lack of answer was loud and clear. Fragments of the boy I once knew are still there. I started to take everything in; the last year being in Waverly and how much our lives have changed since the beginning. I remember starting Waverly with Milo, excited to shed the naive, and young middle school Mollie to become the mature, and grown high school version. A new school, despite how many of us came from Beverley Junior High, meant that you had a clean slate to become anyone you wanted to be. I encouraged Milo to do the same, not realizing that in the process, he’d become completely unrecognizable.

I quickly grabbed my stuff from the ground, needing to get away from Milo. He immediately reacted, walking towards me quickly.

“Mol,” Milo begin to say.

“I can’t believe you–” I started to say, unable to finish my sentence.

“Can you just calm down?” Milo pleaded. I couldn’t keep still; the thought that Milo would do the same exact thing he hated for his dad to nag about, followed by the thought of Milo even be capable of doing what he did with Sophie. I didn’t know how to calm down; the only thing I could do is shake my head and let out a laugh. “What?” Milo asked me, seeming annoyed to how I was reacting.

“What do you want me to say? I’m proud of you? Or wait–even better–Dude! Congrats on being the first one to lose their virginity!” I looked at Milo straight in the eyes; his usual purple-colored eyes are now seemingly dark grey. “And you have the nerve to constantly come at me about Aaron when this whole time, you’re fucking a girl that you aren’t officially dating.”

“It was only one time,” Milo defended. “I find it hard to believe that you and Aaron haven’t done it yet.” I couldn’t help but feel the rage seep up in my body.

“Despite what you believe; we haven’t,” I spat back, crossing my arms along my chest. “Even if we were, why would I ever confine in you with something like that? We aren’t friends anymore.”

“So why do you care what Sophie and I do?” Milo debated.

“I don’t,” I emphasized. “What bothers me is that you chose to let go of your best friend after I didn’t tell you about me dating Aaron.”

“Aaron got my dual major status taken away from me, Mol!” he argued. “Your boyfriend was the reason that your best friend couldn’t do what he really wants to do for nearly two months–“

“At least you’re doing what you want to do in Waverly!” I yelled back. “I have to sit there and pretend that vocal is my true passion, learn music and carry out solos just because I couldn’t go for the dance major or become a dual major of my own. You left me because someone that you don’t like did something to you, Milo! And now you’re standing there, trying to convince me that what you and Sophie are doing doesn’t matter? That you tell everyone in the world that you don’t want to become like your parents when you get older, and that you have dreams and goals that mean so much more to you, yet you go and do the same stupid shit that your parents did!” I felt like a broken record talking to Milo. How many different ways am I suppose to tell him that he is just as responsible for our friendship ending? How many times will I run around this circle with him, convincing him that we are letting two people break something that was indestructible. How many faces of Milo am I going to see before I can’t completely recognize him anymore?

I shook my head, grabbing my things and walking toward the exit of the studio. Milo stood there, frozen in place as he’s been this entire time. “Mol,” he finally said as I walked past him. I immediately stopped, as if it was an instant reflex to stop to listen to him.

“You can’t tell anyone,” Milo softly said. That’s when it really hit me. The truth. The severity of the entire conversation. Milo had sex with Sophie. He lost his virginity. “You hear me, Mol?” He walked in front of me, looking at me directly in the eyes. “You hear me?!”

“I hear you,” I finally said, understanding just how serious he was. If I didn’t know Milo well enough, he wouldn’t have ever told me. That bothers me. Even if we ever were to become friends again, I believe this would be something he’d never speak from his lips. It goes against everything he’s told everyone around him. It puts him in the exact place that his dad predicted he’ll be if he continued hanging out with Sophie alone. To some extent, he’s ashamed of what he’s done. But in a strange way, I can understand. Love can make us do some crazy things.

He doesn’t say anything after that, so I continue to walk out of the studio.

I couldn’t help but think about what Milo said. You’re the girlfriend of a boy that loves his stupid little band more than his actual girlfriend. Was that true? Did Aaron only care about his band more than me? I notice a change in him every time his band is mentioned. I understand that he cares about his band a lot; it’s his passion project. It was something that he and his friends grew from the ground up and worked to be where they are at. I get it, yet the truth still upsets me.

I walked out of the studio room to see Jennifer coming out of her office. She looks at me walking down the hall, towards the exit of the door.

“Mollie?” she called out.

“I’m walking home,” I quickly said to Jennifer. “I refuse to sit in the same car as Milo.” I continued walking towards the exit door, not looking back. No U-turns. No second guessing. Nothing.

“Aigoo,” I said as I practiced the violin in my room, hoping to memorize Milo’s piece before the last rehearsal. The showcase was less than two weeks away, and each day that passed made things feel so much more intense. This past week, Milo didn’t seem like himself. He was reserved, and only talked when he had to for rehearsals or when we had regular class. It was like he wasn’t even there at times; just a shell of the boy I used to know. I don’t know what happened after leaving the park last weekend. I was terrified of Mr. Kamalani; not because he was scary, but because Milo was his first son. In Korean culture, firstborn sons are held to a higher standard than the rest of the children. They are viewed as highly achieved, responsible, and are built to be caregivers for their parents during old age. In this case, Milo was not only Mr. Kamalani’s first son, but he is the son of a teenage romance.

Last summer, before high school started, Milo asked me how I would describe what love felt like. I remember raising an eyebrow at him, looking confused and wondered where this question even came from. That’s when he told me the story of Mr. Kamalani and his biological mom.

“They were freshman in high school when they first met,” Milo began to explain as we sat in the treehouse at his grandmother’s house. “They were in band together, in the strings section like you’ll be in.”

“A dual major in the strings section? That sounds odd,” I commented, knowing the reputation the strings section at Waverly have. I already knew it wasn’t going to be an easy four years for me.

“The dual majors program had just became a thing when my dad was a student at Waverly,” Milo explained. “Apparently, my mom was intimidated because most dual majors keep to themselves; they hang out with other dual majors because they supposedly spend the most time together; whatever.” Milo adjusted himself to get more comfortable to continue his story. “But, my dad wasn’t like that. All of his friends were just regular students, but something about my mom caught his eye.”

“She must’ve sparkled in your dad’s eyes or something,” I said, visualizing the scene in my mind as Milo spoke.

“She was very pretty,” Milo softly added before turning his head to me. “She had short blonde hair, and she wore my dad’s beanie in almost every picture he has of her.” Milo sighed before he continued his story. “It really became her beanie. He gave it to me when he told me the story behind it; I can’t see myself ever wearing it. It just… feels heavy.” I nodded my head as he spoke, understanding the sentimental value behind the piece of cloth. After all, there are things that my mum gave me that belonged to my father; they carried too much emotional weight to ever just wear them, yet alone look at them.

“So, your mum and dad meet, they play in the same band section; where do you come into the equation?” I playfully asked, just to lighten the mood a bit. Milo laughed and shook his head, probably not wanting to think of the biology behind it all.

“That’s the thing,” Milo said in a perplexed way. “I don’t understand how they fell in love so quick. How do you know you love someone in such a short period of time? How did it even get to that point?”

“I mean, I guess it happens,” I shrugged as I said, not knowing the answer myself. I’ve had crushes over the years, but nothing where I found myself being undoubtedly in love. I have dreams and goals to accomplish; I simply just do not see the purpose of letting something intangible like love get in the way.

“But my mom was the smartest person in her grade,” Milo argued. “She was in these different honors societies and taking senior-level classes as a freshman. She would’ve been smart enough to know the difference between right and wrong—”

“But love isn’t something that you can deem as right or wrong,” I debated. “It’s a raw emotion. You see it all the time in movies, and you hear it all the time in music. It’s like once you feel it, it’s not like you can stop feeling it, y’know?”

“I mean, I love my family and my friends, but they don’t keep me from deciding what’s wrong or right—”

“You were conditioned to love your friends and family though,” I stated. I took a deep breath, reflecting on the people in my own life. “I love my mum because I was conditioned to love her. Mums are one of the first human beings we learn love from; and of course for some it’s their dad…” I sighed before I spoke. “Even when your family hurts you, or breaks your heart in some way, it’s not like you stop loving them. Why? Because we were conditioned to always love our families, no matter what.” I looked at Milo as he intently listened to my words. “I love my father despite him being in prison in the UK.” It was the first time in a long time since I said those words out loud. Milo didn’t say anything after that. I shook my head as if I was shaking the thought away. I smiled, and continued on. “Being conditioned to love someone is different than falling in love with someone.”

I was suddenly taken out of my thoughts when I heard a bang against my window. I deemed it as just yet another annoying branch hitting against my bedroom window. The second time the noise happened, I jumped up from my seat and walked towards the window, annoyed at this tree.

I opened the window and nearly screamed at the top of my lungs. Holding my chest to catch my breath, I watch Milo sitting on that annoying tree, next to the branch that hits my window.

“What in the world are you doing up here?” I yelled in a whisper. Milo just starts laughing, smiling as if sitting on a tree is the most normal thing to do in the world.

“I came to see you,” Milo began to explain. “I wasn’t sure if your mom was home, so I didn’t want to just knock on the front door and–“

“Be a normal person?” I teased before laughing. Milo rolled his eyes playfully, looking into my window. “You’re practicing the piece?”

“You mean the one where you purposely split up the measures in eighths?” I commented back, looking at the violin on the ground. “Then yes.”

“But it’s a good challenge,” Milo insisted, trying to reassure me. “I just felt like the pieces Mr. Harrison gives you guys is way too easy for you. You master them within a week.” Now it was me, playfully rolling my eyes at Milo.

“You still didn’t really answer my question,” I reminded Milo before he got too much off topic. “What are you doing up in a tree?” Milo’s expression changed immediately; something was clearly bothering him.

“I had to get out of the house,” Milo began to say. “Between my sisters running around the living room giving Jennifer a heart attack and my dad out with Micah for basketball practice, I just needed some air.”

“That’s understandable,” I said as I nodded my head. “You could’ve came through the front door though; my mum isn’t home.”

“Climbing up this tree makes things interesting,” Milo said, smiling at me. I was glad that he was acting like himself again, unless he was just putting up a facade. Is he putting up a facade?

“Are you okay?” I simply asked. I didn’t have to say much for him to know what I was talking about. He sighed before answering.

“To be honest; no,” Milo admitted. “I feel like the universe is trying to test me and my limits. I feel like there’s so much happening in my life… it’s like I don’t have a moment to breathe.”

“I know how that feels,” I responded, thinking about my own tests that the universe is putting me through. “Do you want to go to the pizza shop and talk? I can ensure that you’ll be more comfortable sitting in a booth rather than on a tree.” Milo smiles at my comment before he sighs.

“Let’s go to the treehouse,” Milo suggested. I scrunched my eyebrows, confused.

“I thought we weren’t allowed to go back to the treehouse together,” I voiced out, remembering the last time we were there. Milo sucked his teeth, as if he totally forgot what was said.

“Grab your things,” Milo stated. “We’re going to the treehouse.”

…

By the time Milo and I got to the treehouse, the sun was beginning to set. The sky was a mixture hue of oranges and pinks; it was like someone painted the sky with watercolor or something. Milo looked up toward the treehouse, pointing up towards the ladder.

“You go first,” Milo insisted. I began to climb up the treehouse; handle by handle that led toward the entrance. I remember the different things in the treehouse from the last time I was up here. The different literature books that were his mum’s still remained in the egg-shell colored bookshelf. The pile of notebooks with sheet music was still next to the small cushion where he sat. The beanie that his mum used to wear was still on top of the books within the bookshelf. It wasn’t long after that Milo showed up in the treehouse as well, smiling as he sat in the space next to me.

“You sure it’s okay that we’re up here?” I asked Milo again, worried hat we’d be caught by his grandparents again. Milo shook his head no, for the umpteenth time, reassuring that the coast was clear.

“You’re fine, Scout,” Milo said as he leaned over to the bookshelf and grabbed his binder full of music. “Okay, so the final bridge of the song is very fast, it’s suppose to be played like a chaotic thought; all over the place, and gives up in the end.” I scrunched my eyebrows, trying to understand what Milo was talking about.

“A chaotic thought?” I repeated, wanting Milo to elaborate further.

“Something manic, but comes together to become beautiful,” Milo tried to explain. He grabbed a pencil and continued explaining how the end of the piece will sound like. He began circling different notes on the music staff, writing little symbols next to the important parts of the music. I couldn’t help but watch Milo be in his element. He was engaged in it, explaining each part of the music with as much detail as possible to ensure I saw his vision. It was inspirational, but it was also sexy to see him like this. He must’ve noticed the way I was looking at him since he’s now looking in my direction now.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” I shook my head and said, snapping back to reality. Milo laughed as he smiled, looking at me.

“I didn’t say anything,” Milo admitted. I felt my face getting hot. “I guess you heard me say something though.” Loud and clear, Milo. I just kept staring at Milo as he looked at me. It was the way that his hair fell softly down his face, slightly moving with the spring breeze. His freckles begin to show on his face, especially when the sun directly hits his face. Even though it’s been almost a year from graduating middle school, high school Milo feels different. His hair was a little longer, the baby look in his face is slowly disappearing, and he feels… safe. I’ve always felt safe whenever I was with him, but this was a different type of safe. It was a… I could trust him with my entire mind and body. “Scout?” he finally said.

“I’m sorry–” I shook my head, gathering my composure. “It’s… hard for me to focus.”

“Are you really afraid of being in the treehouse?” Milo said, concerned. I quickly shook my head and smiled, letting him know that wasn’t the reason.

“No,” I started to say. “I’m surprisingly feeling safe in the treehouse. I always did.”

“I’m glad you do,” Milo said with a smile. He sighs, as if he has more to say. I turned my head, giving him all of my attention. I hope I am your safe space too.

“What’s on your mind?” I asked him softly. Milo wasn’t great at hiding the things roaming around on his mind. Maybe he doesn’t wear his emotions well on his face, or maybe I’ve looked at his face so many times, I just know the differences now.

“Mollie ratted me out the other day,” Milo began to explain. “She was the one that told my dad that I was in the park with you.” Of course, it was Mollie’s doing. “Like we aren’t even friends anymore, and she still finds the need to make my life harder—”

“—when it comes to me,” I finished the sentence, looking at Milo. Milo scrunched his eyebrows together.

“Not just her,” Milo added. “It’s my dad, it’s Jennifer, it’s Waverly, it’s—”

“Milo,” I simply said, and he instantly stopped talking. He took in a deep breath, and let it out as soon as I placed my hand on his lap. “I understand. And it sucks, but…” I was trying to find the right words to say to him. How was I suppose to comfort him with something I’m still trying to comfort myself with this thought. This thought that we are constantly being divided by people because… well…

“We have to follow what we want,” Milo was now the one finishing my sentences. “I want to spend time with you in the treehouse. I want to be able to go to the pizza shop, or to the west wing or to the band room or to the stage in the park with you. I want to be able to just say ‘fuck it’ and–“

“Me too,” I softly said, agreeing with him. We were both now facing each other, close to the point I could feel his breath brush against my face. Something about Milo was different. He wasn’t just this boy I had a crush on in middle school, and he wasn’t the boy I met over that one summer and completely became infatuated with. He was becoming a young man; fearless, protective, and endearing.

“I want to be able to hold you. I want to be able to kiss you,” Milo confessed.

“Then kiss me,” I said to Milo’s face, looking down at his lips and back up to his eyes. Milo hesitated for a moment. I could almost see his heart jump out of his chest, his mind scrambling with thoughts. I lean in closer to him, letting him know that it was okay. Milo softly touches the nape of my neck and pulls me in. His lips feel like fire against mine, but the burning sensation fuels me. The kiss deepens, just how it did back at his house. It doesn’t feel foreign kissing Milo up in the treehouse; I felt safe. I trusted Milo more than I trusted my own judgment at times; this was one of those times that I let him take control. He bites my bottom lip, which immediately catches me off-guard. Without holding back, I let out a soft moan into his mouth. It must’ve drove him crazy as he got closer to my body.

“I want you,” Milo whimpered out in between kisses. It was now me going crazy. My skin is on fire, and every single touch of Milo’s is the flame. The kissing gets even deeper, and for the first time I am not scared. This feels right. This is different. This is what we both want.

And so, it happens. It’s now dusk, and the stars begin to appear in the sky. I feel Milo’s hand tussling in my long, black hair. I can feel his heartbeat jump out of his chest 100 beats per minute. The world is silent for the time being. I wish it always felt like this. I wish I could stay like this with Milo, forever.