Entendre Mis Alas
Chapter 2
Jojo lingered at the fringe of the sea of sisters, peering about for an opening. The letter from Wholliard was gripped nervously in his right hand, and although his touch was gentle, the dirt and grime from his fingers was beginning to smudge upon the soft beige. He didn't notice. He needed to show his parents now; they just had to sign it now. Perhaps reason assured him that the scholarship would not vanish in a puff of smoke at any moment, but his heart was pounding fit to burst.
"Oh, hello, Jojo!" As if on cue, his mother appeared before him, a homely smile bright upon her lips. "Had a good day?" She dropped a kiss on his forehead and pressed a cookie into his hands.
But she didn't even wait for a reply. Before Jojo could so much as open his mouth to answer – let alone tell her about his scholarship! – she'd suddenly vanished. The sea of sisters had absorbed her, effectively cutting them off from any and all contact. Jojo sighed. Somewhere in that surging crowd, his mother was single-handedly controlling an army of hungry schoolgirls, and it was painfully clear that she had no time to listen to him now.
Silent and unnoticed, Jojo slipped from the room. He left the cookie behind.
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Even if his mother was too busy to pay attention to him, Jojo's father never gave him a moment's peace. Normally, it was thoroughly irritating habit, and one that Jojo would give anything to be free of. But just this once, however, perhaps it could be put to good use.
For the hundredth time that minute, Jojo glanced expectantly out his window. Calculus homework lay strewn on the floor before him, but he hadn't gotten past the first three problems in the past hour he'd been there. His father wasn't yet home, and every passing moment was fraying his nerves mercilessly. It wasn't the first time his father had been late from work. As mayor of the entirety of Whoville, it was only understandable that he was frequently snowed under with work, and only more so when one considered how the Town Council went out of their way to defy him. But still – today of all days!
Jojo chewed his lower lip, tearing his gaze away from the window. It was not imperative that he get the forms signed at that very minute – after all, it wasn't as if they were even due tomorrow. On the other hand, he did have a Calculus test tomorrow, and if he didn't keep his grades up, Wholliard could very well take away his scholarship.
With a heavy sigh, Jojo bent down to reread the problem –
Just as the front door opened.
"Daddy's home!" Holly cried from the bottom of the stairs.
A chorus of excited shrieks answered her, and the thunder of hundreds of little feet echoed through the hallways.
"Daddy, daddy!"
"Daaad! I wanna go to the school dance tomorrow!"
"Can I go shopping with Lizzy?"
"Look! Look! I brought my Whoville Literature grade up to a C! Can I not be grounded anymore?"
And Sally's imperative: "Hush, girls. Give Daddy some space; he's tired."
It was a daily, migraine-inducing racket, and Jojo generally did his best to stay away from it. Today, however, was an exception. Slamming his Calculus book shut, he leapt to his feet and raced from his room with his sisters.
The crowd outside was suffocating – ninety-odd children anywhere from one to fourteen was never a good idea, especially when they were all vying for the attentions of one person. Most of them would never get more than a nod or a smile, and yet each one was nonetheless determined to get in her own two cents. If Jojo didn't have VIP access, he would have never gotten within twenty square feet of his father.
But as it was, the moment Ned spotted Jojo amongst the crowd of girls, his eyes brightened excitedly. "Hey, Jojo, my man!" he called out. "You finished your homework early today?"
A collective groan rose up from the sisters. Jojo couldn't blame them; he was all-too-obviously his father's favorite, and whenever he was in the vicinity, no one else ever got any attention. Perhaps it was somewhat cruel to steal this time from his sisters, but Jojo couldn't help it. If he waited any longer, he would go crazy with anxiety – and besides, they'd had this time to themselves for years. One day couldn't hurt.
Jojo's lip twitched weakly, imitating a smile. "I still have some Calculus," he replied.
"But you still found time to say 'hi'!" Ned announced cheerfully. "You never do that!"
"Yeah, well . . . I wanted to talk to you."
"Oh? What is it?" Suddenly, he dropped his voice to a stage-whisper. "Is it about . . . a girl?"
His sisters twittered excitedly, and Jojo felt his cheeks turn pink. "No! It's not!"
"Oh? What is it then?"
"Um . . ." Nervously, Jojo proffered the letter from Wholliard. "This. I – I got a full scholarship to study music theory."
The effect was instantaneous. The previously-hushed room broke into babble, each and every sister voicing her own views on the news.
"What? Oh, come on! Why does he get everything?"
"Is it forged?"
"Well, I knew he was good, but I didn't know he was that good . . ."
"Jojo, can you get me in, too?"
But Jojo ignored them all, focusing solely on his father. "Dad?" he pressed, for Ned seemed to have gone oddly silent. "Could you sign it?"
"Oh, well." Ned cleared his throat. "Wholliard, you say?"
"Yeah."
"You mean, that really big music college?"
"It's the best, Dad," Jojo sighed, somewhat exasperated. "Could you sign already?"
But Ned wasn't quite finished. He drew himself up to his full height, adjusting the mayoral crest emblazoned upon his chest. "The best, huh? Well, it's good to know that the best have got their heads screwed on right! Who wouldn't want my son at their school?"
"Dad," Jojo pleaded, for the glares he was beginning to receive from his sisters promised some very bad things to come. "If you could just sign –,"
"– I mean! You, my man, have done some very amazing things in your young life. From that observatory to your academics to saving all of Whoville, you've got to be the most impressive young man Whoville High has to offer. I almost feel bad for this Wholliard. When they hear you won't be attending –,"
"– Wait, what?" Jojo cut him off frantically. He couldn't believe his ears – he just couldn't. His father did not just say that.
Ned paused in his tirade, peering down affectionately at his only son. "Oh, Jojo. Did you think you were going to go there to help our financial burden? But if you took it, Jojo, you'd have to study music theory. Don't you worry; it may be a little extra coin out of our pockets, but your mother and I will pay for you to study at a good political science program, okay? You don't have to take this scholarship – but I'm indescribably proud of you for getting it."
Ned patted Jojo's head with a soft smile. Then, his job done, he turned away.
Jojo, however, was trembling, his eyes blazing with frustration and anger. He couldn't believe it – couldn't understand how his father could be so incurably dense. He gaped open-mouthed at Ned's retreating back, lost for words. But then, as Ned began to hum some playful tune and play with Hilda's bow, Jojo suddenly snapped.
"What the hell, Dad? Don't you get it? I want to go to Wholliard! I don't want to study your damn political science; I don't want to be the freakin' Mayor!"
"Jojo?" Ned whispered hoarsely.
But Jojo ignored him. "I want to study music!" he ranted, feeling his eyes burn with tears of frustration. "And I can't believe you don't get that! You just keep saying: 'Be mayor; be mayor! Look at this lineage!', and you never give a crap about what I really want!"
His sisters were staring at him, numb with shock. None of them had ever heard so many words spill from Jojo's mouth at one time – let alone so many borderline obscenities. He'd been silent for years, and remained considerably quiet even when he finally began to speak; such an outburst was entirely unprecedented.
Jojo was still seething, his smoldering glare fixed upon his father. But it seemed like he'd exhausted his words. He set his jaw, his hands curled into fists at his sides – once more thoroughly silent.
Ned, on the other hand, seemed to have finally recovered himself. He drew himself up, evenly meeting Jojo's furious scowl. "Jojo," he said firmly. "Firstly, you know better than to use that kind of language in front of your sisters. But more importantly, I have always done what was best for you, and I always will. I realize you enjoy music, but it is not a livelihood. I encourage your interest, and let you pursue your hobby, but its time you began to focus on the future. Music will not bring you a good income – and I'm offering you a strong, stable career as mayor of Whoville! You will not go to Wholliard."
"But –!" Jojo began.
"No, Jojo." But Ned's eyes had softened, and he murmured softly: "I'm sorry, son. I know you really wanted this, but it'd be better if you went to Who U. And besides, you can still do some music there, right? They have a pretty big orchestra."
For a moment, Jojo held his gaze steadily. But the fire had died; his eyes were dull and despondent, and his jaw had gone slack. "Dad . . ." he whispered, but then seemed to think better of it. He bit his lip, forcing back the tears of frustration that threatened to spill over.
Alone despite the crowd around him, Jojo spun on his heel and sprinted away.
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Be honest; who thought I'd abandoned this story for good? XD Shocked you a bit there, didn't I? Still, sorry it took me so absurdly long to update – although I do hope my writing skills have increased significantly since the last chapter. If I do say so myself, I think I rather effectively dealt with that nasty purple prose. =P
As always, I am eager to hear your reviews – constructive criticism as well (if not more) than praise. Every reviewer gets an e-cookie, especially if I find a way to better my writing as a result, so press that pretty li'l button and review already!
~ KiraKira-Kirimi
