“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.

Today was possibly the first warm day since the Spring started. The leaves were coming in on the trees, which meant that the first year of high school was soon coming to an end. Just one and a half more months left, Milo. The dual major showcase made time fly, especially whenever I was practicing with Sophie. She couldn’t stop laughing and getting shy every time she played the solo of the piece. I hate that she didn’t feel confident in her craft; she was the one of, if not, the best person within the strings section. I wish she was able to believe that, or at least believe me when I tell her.

“So your objective was to just shred my fingers up when you created this piece?” Sophie teased. I felt my face get hot as she giggled. “I’m just kidding!”

“I know, I know,” I said, smiling back. The real reason I wrote it the way I did because I know she would shred her fingers, but it would be the most beautiful sound to ever come out of her violin. “It was just where my imagination was going when I envisioned this part.”

“Your imagination?” Sophie questioned. “Do you have a story being told while you compose?”

“Don’t you?” I asked back.

“I play; not write,” Sophie corrected. “I’m not the one who’s a genius in music–“

“I’m not a genius,” I corrected her a bit too harsh. I know she meant it in a joking way, but it bothered me whenever she did. I turned my head and looked at Sophie; the smile had faded away. “I’m–I’m sorry, Scout–“

“No, no; it’s my fault,” Sophie composed herself, not seeming as laid back as she once was. “I shouldn’t have teased you over something so stupid–“

“Scout,” I simply said. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just… I don’t like when people say I’m this genius of some sort when it comes to music.”

“I never mean it in a malicious way,” Sophie began to overexplain herself. “I meant it as a term of mentorship, as in I look up to you for your talent and it being your number one priority–“

“Scout,” I said again, now in a more gentle tone. “You didn’t do or say anything wrong.” Sophie doesn’t say anything back; it was like she wasn’t convinced with my reassurance. “I appreciate that you see me as a mentor when it comes to music, but… have you ever thought that maybe every mentor needs its muse?” It was now Sophie turning red in the face.

“You’re not about to convince me that I am your muse,” Sophie flat out said. Her innocent laugh suddenly disappeared once she noticed I wasn’t laughing with her.

“Why try to convince you if it’s the truth?” I debated back. I must’ve picked up Sophie’s debate skills as we hung out more often; this was the first time I think Sophie was ever left speechless. “I can’t explain how you’ve become my muse, but I guess that’s what makes a good one. You don’t know how it got there, but it draws so much inspiration when thinking about it and feeling all these—” I stopped myself before I continued. I was scared to let out more than I can handle.

“All of these what?” Sophie questioned. She now had the upper hand in this conversation. The only I was able to get it back, as to simply kiss—

“Milo!” I heard someone call out my name. At first, I thought it was just a sick joke my mind was playing on me. I realized it wasn’t when I heard my name even louder now, and I knew exactly who it was.

The panic immediately appeared on Sophie’s face when she saw him. I turned around; it was my dad walking toward us.

“Dad?” I said, feeling confused. “What are you doing here?”

“So, this is practicing for the showcase?” He points at the table, where there isn’t a piece of sheet music in sight, and both of our instruments are not close to our bodies.

“So now we can’t take breaks in between our practices?” I asked, trying to buy some time. Knowing my dad, he wasn’t buying it; but I was shocked to hear Sophie get up from the table and speak.

“Mr. Kamalani, I am so sorry; this is all of my fault,” Sophie began to say, being apologetic. Scout, you didn’t do anything wrong.

“Sophie, I think you should go home before it gets too late,” my dad simply said. Sophie quickly grabbed her things from the table.

“Sophie,” I tried to talk her out of it, but she immediately left without turning around, or saying goodbye. My blood was boiling the further she ran away. I looked at my dad, who is now staring me down as I sit there.

“Grab your things; we’re going back to the house,” my dad demanded.

“I don’t even know what your problem is!” I began to argue. “You told me that it was okay to come hang out, and now you’re crashing it and all against it?”

“Were you just not in this park making out with her in the time you two were supposed to be practicing?” My dad spat out. I was taken aback from his question. I was trying to hide my flushed face when he said that. Knowing my dad, he knew what was going on. “My point exactly.”

“You swear you know every little thing about me!” I got up from the table as my dad began to walk away with my things. “You think you have me figured out just because you were an idiot when you were my age—”

“I didn’t screw up my passion over things most boys think are their priorities,” my dad turned around and said to me. “I was in my classes, doing my work so that I was able to go to the next grade and eventually graduate—”

“All while being a teenage dad,” I quickly spat back. “You think I’m going to fall in the same hole you were in with mom, but–“

“You are, Milo! That is what I’m getting at!” It was now my dad interrupting me. “You think me and your mom just one day decided that we were going to be teenage parents? You think that’s what we wanted as 15 year olds? It started out lying to my parents about where I was at. It escalated to not telling my friends where I was, missing important practices and falling behind in my classwork because I was busy being a kid with a passion juggling the priorities of an adult.” My dad looked at me before he said anything else. His face looked worried for the first time. “I don’t want that for you, Milo.”

I didn’t say anything else. I just picked up my stuff and began to walk out of the park, back toward the house. I couldn’t pinpoint the exact emotion I was feeling, but it felt close to defeat whenever it came to Sophie. Every time I felt like I was able to let my guard down; let Sophie just in a little bit closer, I’m instantly dragged away from ever feeling it. It was beginning to feel like a sign; that maybe this isn’t what’s meant to be. Then why do I feel so compelled to run to her? Why do I feel the need to let everything go and follow her where she goes? The reality begins to sink in, and the thought absolutely scares me. My priority to be with Sophie is stronger than my passion for music at this point.

I look up towards the front of Mollie’s house, dreading to go back inside and spend the rest of the evening with my family, and the family that I did not choose to have. I wanted nothing more than to just hide underneath a rock to live the rest of my life in. I’ve come to a place where nothing feels right without Sophie…

To my surprise, I see Mollie sitting on her front steps, looking directly at me, confirming almost everything I wondered back at the park.

She was the one that saw Sophie and I at the park.

“Alright, let’s take 5,” Aaron turns around to notify the band. The guys begin to take their instruments off their straps and walk towards the exit of the room. I placed the microphone back on its stand, until I felt Aaron wrap his arms around my waist.

“I’ve wanted to hug you all rehearsal,” Aaron said as he nuzzled his face into my neck. I smiled, turning around to face him.

“I don’t think singing a song about heartbreak would make you want to do that,” I teased as Aaron rolled his eyes. “But considering the performance is coming along pretty well, I could understand why you’re so happy.”

“I’m excited for this piece,” Aaron began to say, taking his guitar off of his shoulder. “It’s something that the band hasn’t ever done before.” I watch Aaron get excited every time he talks about the band. You can tell how much it means to him in the way he takes the rehearsals and performances seriously. This band is his literal baby; something he’s so proud to be in.

“Where do you see the band going after high school?” I asked curiously. I didn’t realize just how heavy the question was until Aaron reacted weirdly. It was like I said something wrong. “What?”

“The band isn’t a high school project,” Aaron corrected. It bothered me how defensive he got over me asking him about the band. I understood how much the band meant to him, but for him to act that way with me of all people; it seemed like the band meant more to him than me.

“I didn’t say it was,” I spat back, crossing my arms along my chest. “I just asked what were your plans with the band once you graduate high school.”

“I’m still going to be with the band,” Aaron laughed it off, coming off as a little condescending. “Everything we’re doing now is for the hopes that one day we make it big.”

“But what if you don’t?” I asked without thinking before doing so. Aaron scrunches his eyebrows, clearly annoyed. “I’m just trying to be realistic—”

“And what if you don’t make it in the dance industry?” Aaron asked back, clearly not for an answer but to antagonize me. It was like he doesn’t know that’s the absolute worst thing to say to someone that has been dancing for as long as they can walk.

“I will make it into the industry,” I spat back, standing ground on my answer. Aaron’s face softens up, which confuses me for a moment. Did he just try to prove a point?

“I know you will,” he finally said, sitting down on the bench next to me. “And I would never question what you were going to do with it once you graduate. I know by that time, you’ll probably be dancing for Beyoncé at her next world tour.” I smiled at Aaron, knowing that was most likely never going to happen. I couldn’t help but ask the next thought roaming in my mind.

“Do you see me being in your band when you do?” I asked. Aaron looked at me as if he didn’t quite get where I was coming from. He just looked at me and smiled.

“When I do what?” Aaron asked. His question back was more of an answer for me. I smiled back, shaking the thought away.

“Nothing,” I said. Thankfully, the guys were coming back from break; Aaron got up from the bench and walked back toward his spot where his guitar was. I couldn’t help but sit in my thoughts, feeling stupid for thinking that this band was something I was a part of. Something that brought us together.

“Ready, Mols?” Aaron turned around and looked at me. I quickly threw a smile on my face and walked up to the microphone, in hopes that I’d forget this stupid, roaming thought.

…

I was packing my stuff up for the day, dreading to go back home and see my whole family there. I knew today was Reagan and Dylan’s birthday party, which meant Jennifer was there with Milo’s Dad, and of course; Milo. Milo and I haven’t spoken in such a long time. It sometimes feel like the last 15 years of knowing him didn’t happen; it was like all I could remember was life these last couple of months. Of course, it’s hard to do no contact with a person that is literally a part of your family.

“Hey, Mols,” Aaron walked up behind me and kissed me on the cheek. It was the first time not feeling the butterflies in my stomach. “You’re doing anything?”

“Home,” I simply said, looking back at Aaron. “It’s my niece’s birthdays today and told my mom I’d be there when they cut the cake. Lies.

“Oh, okay,” Aaron responded back. “The guys and I have a meeting uptown with Dean; I’ll let you know how it goes.” Aaron turns his head as the guys call out his name. He grabbed his stuff and gave me yet another half-assed kiss on the cheek. “Text me when you get in!” He ran off and closed the door behind him. For yet another second time in our relationship, I felt like the other person; this time, I felt like I was competing with his band rather than another girl.

As I got closer to my house, crossing the park down the block, I began to feel this uncomfortable, upsetting knot in my stomach. I really didn’t want to sit in a room with a bunch of people, pretending like I was still best friends with Milo. His presence, without Aaron around, always bothered me.

What I really didn’t want to see ever in my life is Milo and Sophie hanging out together, outside of school, smiling and being happy. Today, crossing the park back to the house, it was just that. I don’t know why I couldn’t just leave the park and leave these two idiots alone. I don’t know why I feel the need to hide behind the kids jungle gym, and creep on them while they hung out. Was it curiosity? Did I want to see what was it about Sophie that Milo liked so much? What kind Sophie see in Milo that made her like him so much? Are they dating? Have they had their first kiss yet? Have they took things to the next level whenever they were alone and—

—and then I saw it happen. Milo leaned into Sophie, kissing her on the lips, and Sophie just kissing him back.

It made me furious to see Milo kissing Sophie. It made me mad thinking that he accused me of letting a boy like Aaron get in between of our friendship, all while he was letting a girl like Sophie do the same. Why the fuck was he even out here with her when his baby sisters are having their birthday party today? How does Sophie even know where this park was if Milo never showed it to her? This was the park that Milo and I grew up in. This park was where we would go before we were able to cross the streets and go further than a block away. This park was before the pizza shop, which Milo had already tainted with Sophie. He was purposely bringing her to all the places that we hung out in. At least all of the places I go with Aaron are places that he never even thought about going. I quickly got out of the park; at least I had my room to hide in to get away from the family— or at least I thought I did.

By the time I walked into the house, there were babies and toddlers taking over the living room area. Jennifer was sitting on the ground with the girls when she saw me walk in.

“Mol,” Jennifer said as she got up the ground, holding Dylan. I smiled as Dylan timidly looked at me. She was the shy one between the twins.

“Happy birthday, Dyllie!” I smiled as I said, giving my niece a kiss on her cheek. “Where’s Reagan?”

“Probably causing havoc in the backyard with the other kids and her dad,” Jennifer teased as she answered. “Did you telepathically know we were going o have cake in a few? I didn’t expect you to be back so early.”

“The rehearsal was a short one,” I said, sitting down on the ground next to Jennifer with Dylan on her lap. “And Aaron had a couple of things to do afterwards so; here I am.” Jennifer’s facial expression changed, now seeming concerned. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just that you’re always with Aaron,” she said, bouncing Dylan on her knee. “He could be taking a shit and you’re sitting outside of the door, waiting for him.”

‘That’s not true,” I defended. Jennifer looked confused.

“It was a joke, Mol,” she clarified, looking at me. “But you two are always together, so I am shocked that you just didn’t go with it to do what he needed to do. It’s not like mom would’ve known—”

“Oh, so I can be in trouble and grounded for just wandering off?” I asked, now getting annoyed with Jennifer.

“Mol, you wander off all the time,” Jennifer jokingly said laughing afterwards.

“What you should be worried about is Milo wandering off to go make out with his, quote unquote ‘not girlfriend’ at the park,” I spat out, getting up from the ground. Jennifer quickly got up from the ground, still holding Dylan in her arms.

“What?” Jennifer asked. “Milo?”

“Yes; Milo, as in your 15-year-old step son,” I repeated, crossing my arms. “I saw him smooching it up with Sophie at the park down the block while I was walking home.” Before anything else could be said, a man’s voice calls out for Jennifer.

“Babe,” Mr. Kamalani came in, looking for Jennifer. His face immediately changes once Jennifer turns around to face him. “What’s wrong?”

“You told Milo he could go out, right?” Jennifer asked. Mr. Kamalani looked confused, especially once he saw me standing there.

“Yes,” he began to answer. “You were there when he left–“

“Then explain why is he at the park right now, making out with Sophie?” she asked. Mr. Kamalani’s eyes widen.

“What? He said–“

“I thought he told you he was going to the park to work on his project,” Jennifer interrupted, which made Mr. Kamalani flustered.

“He did,” he finally was able to say out loud. “His dual major project includes the strings section from his band class–“

“I don’t give a shit if it was with the cheerleaders of the football team, Milo! All I care about is that he is using this project as an excuse to spend more time with Sophie, and that is what I don’t like about this scenario,” Jennifer explained. “Don’t act like you never used the “I have practice” excuse just to hang out with Gwen.” I scrunched my eyebrows together, confused by what Jennifer was talking about. Who the hell is Gwen? Mr. Kamalani looked at Jennifer before looking at me.

“Did you see Milo in the park kissing Sophie?” he asked me, which made Jennifer turn around in her place. There was no turning back now, considering I told Jennifer the truth.

“I did,” I admitted. Mr. Kamalani shut his eyes closed before letting out a huge sigh. He went and grabbed his sweater from the coat rack near the door.

“I’ll handle it,” he said as he walked passed Jennifer and I. The door slammed shut behind him, which made me jump in place. I quickly turned around, furious at Jennifer.

“Why would you tell him?! Now it looks like I’m a snitch or something!” I began to argue. “My God, Pep; this is why I don’t tell you anything anymore! I can’t ever just tell you things for the sake of being my sister–“

“Mollie, I wasn’t born yesterday,” Jennifer implied. “You didn’t tell me for the sake of me being your sister. You wanted Milo to get in trouble.” Jennifer walked away and gathered the rest of the kids in the living room, and began to walk towards the backyard. I felt like the world was about to explode.

I sat in my room to finish the piece for the dual major showcase, just in time for rehearsals after school tomorrow. For the most part, this showcase has been the only thing I’ve been focused on. My days consist of me getting by through the 8 periods of class, meeting Sophie at the end of the first floor hallway, to then walk to the band room on the other side of the school. Sometimes, Sophie and I would go to the pizza shop after rehearsal; it was a nice way to spend time with her without having anyone questioning us. We solely were practicing our school work, and then got hungry in the process.

I continue writing in my notebook until I feel something tap me on the shoulder. I couldn’t help but jump from my seat and turn around. I sighed when I realized it was just my dad.

“Whoa, buddy; relax,” my dad joked as I caught my breath. “Don’t forget we’re going to Lydia’s place for the twin’s first birthday.” I sighed even louder.

“Dad, why do I even have to go?” I immediately asked.

“Because it’s your baby sisters’ birthday,” he answered with a bit of force in his voice.

“It’s not like they’re gonna remember if I’m there or not,” I said, trying to turn my chair back around before my dad said anything.

“Milo, this isn’t up for discussion,” my dad said, now seeming serious. “I need you dressed and ready to go in an hour—”

“I have important school work that needs to get done,” I fought back, pointing at my music binder. “I have to revise some of the piece for the dual major showcase. I thought you of all people would understand how important this is.”

“I’m talking to you as your father; not your teacher,” he simply said, adding nothing more to his statement. I sucked my teeth, ultimately slamming my binder shut and getting off of my desk chair, walking past my dad.

“Well if my piece for the showcase comes out horrible, you’ll know because it was because I was forced to go to some dumb birthday party,” I spat out, hoping that would be the end of this conversation. Surprisingly, it wasn’t; I should’ve known that considering it was my dad.

“I’m not telling you that you have to talk to Mollie,” my dad mentioned, walking towards my bedroom door. “But just because you and her decided to no longer be friends, doesn’t mean you guys aren’t family anymore.”

“Who said anything about Mollie?” I quickly said, annoyed that he would even bring her up in this conversation. “I don’t care if she’s there or not. Like you said, we are not friends anymore—”

“And that doesn’t bother you?” My dad interrupted me to ask. I looked at him, knowing exactly where this conversation was going. “It doesn’t bother you that you and the person that you’ve known your whole life are no longer friends?” My dad had a way to try to get in my head, especially when it came to things he knew I cared about. Does it suck that Mollie and I are no longer friends? Of course, but it’s a part of life.

“No,” I simply answered, walking back toward my closet to get something to wear. All I heard was my dad sigh and walk out of my room. Yeah, dad; it fucking sucks that my best friend in the whole world wants nothing to do with me because of a boy.

…

“My goodness, the girls have gotten so big!” Lydia said, looking at my twin sisters, Reagan and Dylan, in my dad and Jennifer’s arms. “Sooner or later they’ll be going to Pre-K!”

“Oh, I’m surely counting down those days where the house will be kid friendly for a couple of hours,” Jennifer commented, looking at my dad. Ew. Before everyone went into the backyard to set up for the birthday party, Lydia looked at me with a worried look on her face.

“Oh sweetie, Mollie isn’t home,” Lydia began to say. She looked back up at Jennifer, sighing before she continued. “She insisted she needed to go to practice for this showcase; apparently she’s singing in some band with her boyfriend.” it still bothered me knowing she rather work with that jerk instead of me for the dual major showcase.

“It’s okay,” I responded, trying to not show how I really felt on my face. “I can just… hang out.” I said as I looked at my phone, immediately dialing Sophie’s number.

I walked to the backyard to see it had been thrown up in pink decorations. The adults went over to the other members of the family as the kids ran around and played on the jungle gym set. I remember playing on there as a kid with Mollie.

“Hello?” Sophie’s voice said as she answered the phone. It caught me off-guard, forgetting that I even dialed her number in the first place.

“Hey, Scout,” I said with a smile on my face. “Whatcha up to?”

“Nothing really,” she began to answer. “My mum went out with my aunt to help her move into her new apartment. She had invited me, but I didn’t want to waste my Sunday lifting heavy boxes from room to room. I already have to carry my music binder to and from school anyway.” I laughed at Sophie’s tangent, noting that she’s only this chatty when she’s super bored. “How about you?”

“I’m at this stupid birthday party at Mollie’s house for my sisters,” I said, rolling my eyes. “My dad was on my case about going because it’s a family gathering and blah blah blah; come to find out that Mollie isn’t even here.”

“Oh,” Sophie simply responded.

“Yeah; she’s apparently out with Aaron rehearsing for the showcase, which is probably bullshit considering—”

“Have you finished your piece yet?” Sophie interrupted to ask. Right, my own piece for the showcase.

“I was trying to finish it today until my dad dragged me out of the house,” I answered. “I wanted to finish it before the rehearsal tomorrow.”

“You need help finishing it?” She asked. “I mean, we can FaceTime and talk about where you want to go with the piece.” I couldn’t help but feel my face get super hot. It always surprised me when Sophie initiated our hang outs. No one ever really wanted to hang out with me the way she did.

“Why don’t you just come over here?” I suggested, looking at the adults talking among themselves. “It’s literally no one here I can hang out with, and I refuse to hang out with a bunch of toddlers in the backyard.” Sophie laughed over the phone.

“Is your dad going to be okay with that?” She asked. “I mean, you did say he forced you to go to this birthday party.”

“Yeah,” I began to say. “But, he might actually let me go now since Mollie isn’t here and use her as an excuse to be around.” It took Sophie a minute to say anything back. I could tell she was nervous. “You’re not going to get me in trouble, I promise.”

“Fine,” Sophie finally said. I couldn’t hide the smile on my face. “Where should I meet you?”

“I’ll text you the address,” I said before we said our goodbyes over the phone. I quickly went up to my dad, who’s now sitting at one of the tables with Dylan on his lap.

“Dad?” He looked at me as I called him.

“What’s up, buddy?” He said.

“Can I go hang out with Sophie?” I asked. The smile started to fade from his face.

“Milo, we’re at a birthday party for your sisters,” he emphasized once more. “This is meant to be time spent with the family—”

“Oh, let the kid go hang out with his friends, Milo,” Lydia protested to my dad. “It’s not fair to keep him here if Mollie isn’t here to hang out with.” It surprised me that Lydia thought we were friends still. “You can even bring your friend over here if you want—”

“Oh, no it’s okay,” I politely declined. “I was just going to go to the park around the corner and practice the piece I’m preparing for the showcase.” My dad slowly got up from his seat, handing Dylan over to Jennifer before walking me to the back door towards the house. Once we entered the house, he looked directly at me.

“You are to only go to the park down the block and back; nowhere else,” my dad sternly said. I sighed loudly, annoyed already at where this was going.

“I know, dad,” I said, trying to end this conversation already. “I literally am doing exactly what I was going when I was home, you know, when you forced me to stop doing what I was doing to come here and be cordial with someone who wasn’t willing to be cordial with me—”

“Milo,” my dad began to say. “I need you to listen to me carefully. I need you back at the house by the time we have cake for your sisters. I don’t want to get any calls from anyone saying that they saw you with Sophie at some other place you said you weren’t going to be.”

“Dad, please,” I pleaded with him. At this point, all I wanted to do was get out of here and see Sophie. “I promise I’m going to be near the house.”

“Milo?” I hear Jennifer call out. Both my dad and I turned around to see Jennifer walking in from the outside. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” my dad said, walking towards Jennifer. “Milo is going to meet up with Sophie to work on his project down at the park. I told him to be back in time to sing happy birthday to the girls.” Jennifer looked at me to confirm that this was true; I nodded my head and agreed.

“Be careful, please,” Jennifer said. “That park is known to be the park where your father nearly broke his nose running in that park as a kid.” I couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of my dad just falling ace first into the ground as a kid. His face began to turn red.

“Call us if anything,” my dad said, walking out of the sliding door towards the backyard. “Remember what we discussed!” As the door shut closed, I immediately ran towards the front door of the house, grabbed my book bag, and jetted out the house.

I took a deep breath before walking into the band room, way after school hours for rehearsal. I opened the door to see a couple of our bandmates from the strings section talking. Some turned around to say hi to me; I waved back to them. I take a seat and nervously start bouncing my leg, looking down at my phone to see if Milo texted me back. I looked up once I heard the front door open, and in walked both Mr. Harrison and Milo.

“Good afternoon, strings,” Mr. Harrison began to say. “Thank you all again for being able to stay after school for this meeting–“

“Are you kicking us out from the ensemble?” one student said. Everyone turned their head to see who it was; it was Carrie, the goth girl that typically keeps to herself in school.

“Why would you think that?” Mr. Harrison questioned, seeming confused at the question.

“Well,” another kid, Brett, began to say. “It’s no secret that the school thinks we suck.” Minor chatter began to linger the room; everyone agreed with the said statement. To my surprise, Mr. Harrison doesn’t say anything to defend the string section.

“I think you guys add something nostalgic to the ensemble,” Milo finally said, looking at us at our seats.

“So something that is outdated and dead?” Another student questioned; this time it was a girl named Tiffany.”

“No,” Milo said as he scrunched his eyebrows. “Classic. Timeless. A staple in an ensemble!”

“That’s easy for you say,” Allen said, another quiet kid that usually keeps to himself. “You’re not in strings and you’re a dual major.”

“So?” Milo responded back.

“So, it means you don’t understand what it’s like to be the laughing stock of the school,” Allen replied, crossing his arms along his chest.

“That doesn’t mean I pity you guys, or agree with the rest of the school,” Milo sternly stated. “I asked Mr. Harrison to gather you all because I wanted to have you guys assist me in my dual major performance.” I looked around the classroom; the room went completely silent. Milo’s energy disappeared as a result.

“You’re only going to be as good as you think you are,” Mr. Harrison added, addressing the ensemble. “And if this is the attitude that you all are going to have, then Milo doesn’t need to include you guys in his showcase—”

“Which I really want you guys a part of it,” Milo emphasized. He quickly looked at me and smiled; I couldn’t help but smile back. It was like a reflex I couldn’t help doing.

“I still don’t see the purpose of us playing in performance where the audience is there to only support the dual majors,” Allen debated, which lead to a couple of our bandmates nodding their heads in agreement. “No one is actually going to think the strings are any better; they’re just going to praise Milo for putting this thing together—”

“Let’s give Milo a chance, yeah?” I finally turned around and faced the rest of the ensemble. “We should be thankful that someone in the dual majors program wants to work with us. You failed to realize that he could’ve easily asked his other major class to help him, but instead he chose us.” I looked at Allen, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. “We can’t prove that we’re good if we’re so afraid to step on stage to perform.”

“Sophie is right,” Mr. Harrison added, walking towards his desk. “Of course, being a part of a showcase like this is completely voluntary, and if you still feel the need to not do the show just because you feel like you can’t do it, then you can pack your things and leave for the day.” Everyone looked around the room, curious to see if anyone was going to leave. I was surprised to see that no one got up from their seats.

“The piece I put together was heavily inspired by Vivaldi’s ‘Four Seasons’ in F Minor,” Milo began to explain, taking a piece of chalk to write on the blackboard. “Many people recognize the ‘Spring’ concerto, the opening act of the piece; what really gives the piece some color is ‘Winter’,” I continued to stare at Milo as he spoke and explained his vision to the class. He was mesmerizing to watch; passionate, driven, and… natural. It’s no surprise, considering he watches his father teach every day.

“You see, the winter piece flows like the frigid air of the winter season,” Milo continued to explain. “I wanted to put together a piece that retold the story in a more modern way; a Gen Z type of way. So we are going to be putting together a piece called,” Milo finally stopped writing on the blackboard and turned around to finally face us. “A Frigid Winter.”

…

It was finally the end of the school day, and I was walking to my locker to grab my books and other things to take home with me. I opened the locker and grabbed the couple of books I needed for my homework tonight, in addition to the binder of sheet music I had to learn for the showcase. As I put my things in my backpack, I hear a guy and a girl loudly laugh down the hallway. I peeked over the locker door to see that it was Aaron and Mollie, walking down the hallway holding hands, smiling at each other. They walk by me, not acknowledging me whatsoever. I couldn’t help but watch them as they did. They seemed so happy with each other; holding hands, and Aaron smiling every time he turned his head to talk to her. The Aaron that we see in band class is nothing like the Aaron I see whenever he’s with Mollie. I can’t help but feel a sense of jealousy when I see them together. I wish I was able to hold Milo’s hand in the hallway. I wish Milo looked at me the way Aaron looks at Mollie.

“Sophie?” I heard a boy’s voice call out my name. I quickly turned around, completely caught off guard. I lifted up an eyebrow, confused to see Allen standing by my locker.

“Hey,” I quickly said, shutting my locker door shut. “Did you need the rehearsal schedule?”

“No, I have it,” Allen said; he seemed to sound bothered. I was still so confused in why he came up to me. Allen never spoke to me in our band class. “I was just wondering if you really were going to do Milo’s showcase or not…”

“Why wouldn’t I do it?” I asked, wondering where Allen was going with this.

“To be honest with you, I don’t have a good feeling about this,” Allen confessed, crossing his arms tightly along his chest. “I don’t feel like his intentions are genuine.” I scrunched my eyebrows, disagreeing with his assumption of Milo.

“Milo’s not like that,” I responded, defending Milo. “He really wants to work with us to put this performance together—”

“He’s never made an effort to even talk to our section before,” Allen spat back, not convinced with what I said. “It just feels very performative, like he’s trying to be the ‘generous dual major’ in a crowd of overachieving dual majors.”

“Performative?” I repeated, now getting annoyed. “You got it all wrong, Allen. Milo is really not like the person you think he is—”

“I’m just saying this to the person I believe should be the voice of our section,” Allen expressed his thoughts further. The voice of the section? “You’re clearly the best person in strings, and for someone who isn’t even in the strings to just come and do charity work just because we weren’t picked before feels offensive. I would rather not us do the showcase than for us to be the pity pick because he decided to wait out…”

“I really don’t know where you’re going with this,” I said, getting ready to end the conversation. Before I could step away, Allen steps in front of me.

“From what I heard, Milo was originally going to pair up with Mollie Castro to do this showcase,” Allen mentioned. Mollie? “But I guess she would rather do the showcase with her boyfriend, Aaron Serrano.”

“Where did you hear that? Milo wanting to work with Mollie?” I asked, curious to know.

“Mollie herself,” Allen answered. “She was talking to Aaron one day before band class a few weeks back about it after he had asked her to do the showcase. I guess when you’re Aaron Serrano, you can persuade any girl you want…” I couldn’t believe what Allen was telling me. Was it true? If it was, how did someone else from our band class know this information before I did? Why didn’t Milo tell me that he was originally going to work with Mollie in the first place? Why did he make it seem like he had the strings on his mind this whole time for the showcase?

Before I could respond, Allen sighs loudly. I looked back at him as he shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m just saying that we shouldn’t be so quick to take Milo’s offer if he doesn’t have us with the best interest in mind.” Allen walked away towards the opposite side of the hallway. I didn’t know what to believe, or who to believe these days. Was Milo that shallow and self-centered? Was the Milo I know just a facade to boost up his own ego? Was the Milo I know and love all just a lie?

My train of thought broke once I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. Speaking of the devil, it was Milo texting me, telling me to meet him at the pizza shop. I sighed loudly, walking away from my locker and towards the exit of the school.