How Twister Met Isis
Isis sat at her desk in chorus and wondered when the day would be over. She was meeting Sunny at Sweet Sensations Shoe Depot after school to buy some new shoes.
"Okay class, now it's time to work on our scales! Isis, you first," said Mrs. McMitchell with perk. She tapped her music wand on Isis' desk, making it obvious she was hurrying her.
"Okay, okay," Isis replied with angst. Isis sang her scales, not one note cracked. Everyone looked at her in awe. She would never admit she was that good, but deep down she knew she was the best alto in the class.
"Very good, Isis!" applauded Mrs. McMitchell. The class seemed to agree. Mrs. McMitchell pointed at Twister Rodriguez, who was sitting in the back row of the class. "Maurice, how about you do your scales next?"
Twister let out a sigh. "Why do I have to be after Isis? You know how bad I am, and how much worse she makes me look!" But he quit his complaint and sung his scales, only a couple notes off key. He was pretty good at singing tenor, but not the best in the class.
Mrs. McMitchell looked disappointed. "Maurice, why don't I assign you a tutor to help you out on your scales? Since James and Arthur are the only other tenors, and they are gone on vacation, I'll have to assign you to Isis. She is an alto, and you are almost the same, so why don't you help him out a couple times a week after school, Isis?"
Isis' jaw dropped. "Your kidding me, right?" There was no way she could help him. She had way too much studying to do, and she could barely practice herself. "Mrs. McMitchell, I don't have time."
"Well, when it comes to helping a fellow student, I'm sure you should make time. Besides, you need to put aside your studies and practice more. We have nationals coming up in a couple of weeks!"
"Okay." Isis didn't like the idea very much, but this would also make her look good on her after school club applications.
***
Isis walked up to Twister after class. "So, come by my house at five tomorrow, don't be late." She handed him a slip of paper with her address and phone number. Her hand touched his when she gave him the paper.
"Sorry," Twister said quickly, blushing as he did.
"That's okay. You do have a car, right? I mean, if you don't I can pick you up." Isis looked at him. She had a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach, and she didn't know why.
"Yes, I do have a car. And, I won't be late. Oh, and by the way, when I come, don't give me your pity," he snapped. He had no idea why he snapped at her; after all, she was the one helping him.
"Fine, I won't." They parted ways, and went.
***
"So you have to tutor someone for chorus? Who?" Sunny asked as she picked up a pair of blue, strappy sandals from a display case.
"Oh, some guy. I think his name's Maurice. I never really pay attention to him. He's kinda cute, though." Isis suddenly thought of what she just said and couldn't believe it. Why had she said he was cute?
"Oh? I know a guy named Maurice, but we call him Twister. He's Otto's best friend. He's pretty cool."
"Really? Does he have strawberry blonde hair, wear a hat, and sing really well?"
"Yeah, but I don't know about the singing part; I've never heard him sing. We could be talking about two different Maurice's. His last name is Rodriguez, if that helps you any."
"Yes, that's him. Oh, my God! I know him, I just never noticed him that much in chorus. He hangs out a lot at the Shack. He's always with Otto."
"Aww, sounds like you've been paying more attention to him than you think!"
"No way! He's way too, uh, slow for me."
***
Isis arose from her comfort on the couch when she heard her doorbell ring. She opened the door to see Twister standing mysteriously in the doorway. "Hey, come on in," she welcomed him.
He walked in, letting the aroma of chicken soup fill him. "Nice place. What's that smell? It smells good."
"Chicken vegetable soup. Want some? It could help you with your scales," Isis laughed.
"Nah, I just ate some enchiladas, but thanks anyway. Okay, so tutor me."
Isis sat down on the couch beside Twister. "Let's start with this scale." Isis sang a scale with perfection.
"How do you do that? I mean, every time I try to sing in class, I freak, and I crack notes."
"Practice. Now you try."
Twister sang the scale, cracking a couple of notes. "Crap."
"You're nervous. That's why you keep messing up." Isis kept teaching him and giving him explanations.
Isis sat at her desk in chorus and wondered when the day would be over. She was meeting Sunny at Sweet Sensations Shoe Depot after school to buy some new shoes.
"Okay class, now it's time to work on our scales! Isis, you first," said Mrs. McMitchell with perk. She tapped her music wand on Isis' desk, making it obvious she was hurrying her.
"Okay, okay," Isis replied with angst. Isis sang her scales, not one note cracked. Everyone looked at her in awe. She would never admit she was that good, but deep down she knew she was the best alto in the class.
"Very good, Isis!" applauded Mrs. McMitchell. The class seemed to agree. Mrs. McMitchell pointed at Twister Rodriguez, who was sitting in the back row of the class. "Maurice, how about you do your scales next?"
Twister let out a sigh. "Why do I have to be after Isis? You know how bad I am, and how much worse she makes me look!" But he quit his complaint and sung his scales, only a couple notes off key. He was pretty good at singing tenor, but not the best in the class.
Mrs. McMitchell looked disappointed. "Maurice, why don't I assign you a tutor to help you out on your scales? Since James and Arthur are the only other tenors, and they are gone on vacation, I'll have to assign you to Isis. She is an alto, and you are almost the same, so why don't you help him out a couple times a week after school, Isis?"
Isis' jaw dropped. "Your kidding me, right?" There was no way she could help him. She had way too much studying to do, and she could barely practice herself. "Mrs. McMitchell, I don't have time."
"Well, when it comes to helping a fellow student, I'm sure you should make time. Besides, you need to put aside your studies and practice more. We have nationals coming up in a couple of weeks!"
"Okay." Isis didn't like the idea very much, but this would also make her look good on her after school club applications.
***
Isis walked up to Twister after class. "So, come by my house at five tomorrow, don't be late." She handed him a slip of paper with her address and phone number. Her hand touched his when she gave him the paper.
"Sorry," Twister said quickly, blushing as he did.
"That's okay. You do have a car, right? I mean, if you don't I can pick you up." Isis looked at him. She had a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach, and she didn't know why.
"Yes, I do have a car. And, I won't be late. Oh, and by the way, when I come, don't give me your pity," he snapped. He had no idea why he snapped at her; after all, she was the one helping him.
"Fine, I won't." They parted ways, and went.
***
"So you have to tutor someone for chorus? Who?" Sunny asked as she picked up a pair of blue, strappy sandals from a display case.
"Oh, some guy. I think his name's Maurice. I never really pay attention to him. He's kinda cute, though." Isis suddenly thought of what she just said and couldn't believe it. Why had she said he was cute?
"Oh? I know a guy named Maurice, but we call him Twister. He's Otto's best friend. He's pretty cool."
"Really? Does he have strawberry blonde hair, wear a hat, and sing really well?"
"Yeah, but I don't know about the singing part; I've never heard him sing. We could be talking about two different Maurice's. His last name is Rodriguez, if that helps you any."
"Yes, that's him. Oh, my God! I know him, I just never noticed him that much in chorus. He hangs out a lot at the Shack. He's always with Otto."
"Aww, sounds like you've been paying more attention to him than you think!"
"No way! He's way too, uh, slow for me."
***
Isis arose from her comfort on the couch when she heard her doorbell ring. She opened the door to see Twister standing mysteriously in the doorway. "Hey, come on in," she welcomed him.
He walked in, letting the aroma of chicken soup fill him. "Nice place. What's that smell? It smells good."
"Chicken vegetable soup. Want some? It could help you with your scales," Isis laughed.
"Nah, I just ate some enchiladas, but thanks anyway. Okay, so tutor me."
Isis sat down on the couch beside Twister. "Let's start with this scale." Isis sang a scale with perfection.
"How do you do that? I mean, every time I try to sing in class, I freak, and I crack notes."
"Practice. Now you try."
Twister sang the scale, cracking a couple of notes. "Crap."
"You're nervous. That's why you keep messing up." Isis kept teaching him and giving him explanations.