I spent the next two weeks at Trish's side, and to my surprise, she wasn't actually that scary. At some moments, she was even nice.
But I did found out she didn't like teachers, school, learning, or anything that meant she HAD to do something. She only liked it if she had the choice to do it.
I also found out there was a red headed guy named Dez who she didn't like. She told stories about stupid things he did and he was in most of my classes, always around some blond guy whose name I didn't know.
Trish had never introduced me to them. And I was way too shy to go introduce myself.
"Ally, can I talk to you after class?"
I woke up from my train of thought. It was Mrs Drew, our English teacher.
I almost forgot I was in class. I never dreamt in class.
"Uhm, yeah.. Yeah," I answered softly.
I hadn't done anything wrong, had I? I was only extracted for a little while.
The rest of the hour seemed to last an eternity, but no matter how long it lasted, I couldn't think of anything Mrs Drew could possibly want to talk to me about.
I always did my homework, paid attention in class, and although I had only had one test, the grade was good.
"What do you think she wants?" Trish asked, when the bell rang and I was pushing my books into my bag.
"I have no idea," I muttered, "and I'm not sure if I want to find out."
Mrs Drew didn't talk until the very last person left the classroom, which was the blond boy who hang around Dez and never paid attention to anything anyone except Dez said.
"Am I in trouble?" I blurted out. I couldn't hold it in any longer.
"What?" Mrs Drew laughed. "You? No. Should you be?"
I shook my head.
"No, I wanted to talk to you about something. I don't know if you've heard about this already, but the school is organizing a play this year. It's going to be a modern version of Romeo and Juliet."
"I didn't know that," I said, softly, because I wasn't sure if she minded me interrupting her.
"Well, I have noticed you're a really good writer. Is it something that you enjoy?"
I smiled and nodded. It was, it had always been.
To be honest, I usually wrote songs. I loved writing songs. I never performed them, because being on stage was my biggest nightmare in the world, but I loved to write them.
Sometimes I wished someone could hear them, but I never dared to let anyone read them. They were too personal.
Sometimes I wrote stories, just to get around that. My stories weren't personal at all, they were just little drabbles, and I didn't mind if people read them.
Usually those people were my mom and my teachers, because I didn't have anyone else. Certainly not Trish. I considered her my friend, but she couldn't care less about my stories.
I didn't just make that up, she had literally said that when I told her I wrote.
"Ally, I love you, but I couldn't care less."
Well, at least she said she loved me. I'd never had anyone else than my family say that.
"Good. I thought you might."
Oh, yeah, play, teacher.
"Why are you asking me, if I may ask?" I couldn't stop my voice from shaking.
God, I hated how shy I was.
"Because we haven't written a script, and I've already asked around a little, but I haven't found anyone yet. I thought you might like to give it a try," Mrs Drew said.
I giggled. It was a nervous giggle.
"Me, writing a play? I don't think so. I can't write a play."
"If you don't want to, you don't have to. But please think about it, will you?"