Kayla grabbed her guitar case from the trunk, lifting it over her shoulder. I studied her apparel. A leather jacket, white t-shirt, loose jeans and leather boots. If she was going for the "I'm deadly" look, she got it.
Garrett picked up his own case. "Did you put your guitar on mine?"
She looked over her shoulder. "Sorry! Not enough room!"
I adjusted the straps of my backpack, walking beside my sister. "Why are you bringing your guitars anyway?"
"For music classes," explained Garrett, catching up. "We have to play an instrument, if you want to join the school."
"Oh… I guess that means that I'm playing piano then," I said.
"Yep," responded Kayla. She looked at me. "You're gonna blow them away, Gwen."
I ran a hand through my hair. "I don't know about that…"
"Hey, Kayla!"
Some guys, sitting at a table, waved at the twin. She gave a wave back, as well as a slight smile.
"Hey," she called.
"We're playing football after school," said a guy, gesturing. "You and Garrett wanna come?"
She shook her head. "Sorry! Can't!"
"Ah, Kayla," said the blonde, walking over. "Come on. You're gonna go breaking the guys' hearts. After all… you are the most gorgeous girl in the school."
My eyebrows rose. If he thought that that was going to fool Kayla, he had another thing coming.
Kayla cocked her head, her smile still there. "And how many other girls have you said that to, Blake?"
"Only one worth saying it to," he said, charmingly.
Garrett held a hand over his mouth, barely able to hide a laugh. I looked back at him, putting a finger over my lips.
My sister walked over to Blake, straightening the one side of his shirt collar. "You know, I've found that obnoxious jocks, like you, are probably the most conceited and most superfluous creatures in the known universe."
His brows knit with confusion. "Um… is that a no?"
She nodded. "Yeah."
She walked off. I smiled, following her. Garrett hung back to pat the guy on the shoulder, sympathetically.
"You know that you could get any guy you want," I reminded.
Kayla shrugged. "So?"
"Nothing," I answered. "I'm just saying… you're lucky."
"Not really," she scoffed. "Could you see me going out with obnoxious guys like that?"
I looked back at Blake. "No, but isn't it nice to know that you have options?"
She stopped to face me. "Listen to me, Gwen. Just because you have a pretty face, doesn't mean that it will always give you the kind of guys you want."
My brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"If you want a guy who's decent, loyal, will love you for who you are and not what you look like, it's not easy. I mean, would you like a guy, who's only with you for your looks and popularity?"
I smiled. "You know that that won't happen."
Her hand rested on her hip. "Play along."
I sighed. "No, I wouldn't."
"Besides, that's not what you're supposed to be thinking about, sis," she pointed out. "Mom told me about your self-esteem issue."
I rolled my eyes. "Oh no."
"Oh, yes." She set her guitar case on the ground. "Seriously. What do you think is wrong with you?"
Garrett stopped beside them. "Problems?"
"Girl talk," answered Kayla.
He walked away. "Moving on."
I crossed my arms. "I'm fine, Kayla."
She sighed, picking up her case. "Alright. If you wanna talk, I'll be there."
"Thanks, Kayla," I said, fighting the urge to sound sarcastic.
We had come early, so that we could work on our lockers. They were supposed to be done by the end of the week and I was bent on finishing it today. Garrett said that he would decorate his with military camouflage and pictures of F-22s. Kayla would decorate hers with "the country", including country music stars and American flags.
I stopped at my locker, pulling out my decorations. An hour later, my locker was decorated with Celtic crosses, ruins and a faded American flag, hidden in the background. I was actually happy with it. It was not quite as artistic and deep, but it would do.
Tori seemed to like it, as well.
"It's much better than mine," she said, waving a hand in front of her locker. "I mean, I like it the way it is, but it looks cheap, compared to yours."
"Thanks, but yours is good too," I admitted, closing the locker door.
She smiled. "You ready for the 'Bird Scene'?"
"Yep," I answered, rather confidently.
She was smirking and practically snorting, as she chuckled. "Yeah."
My one brow rose. "Is there a problem?"
"No, no, no, no, no… no," she said, quickly.
I gave a half and very confused smile, as I followed her down the hall. It must have been because she had had trouble with it. Mom told me that people normally did. I suppose that people would consider it almost cheating, since Mom told me about it. She truly had no idea that she would end up putting us in the school, though and the damage was done.
Sikowitz entered the room casually, holding a coconut with a straw in his hand. "Good morning, young ones."
Andre, sitting beside me, leaned forward. "Are you wearing shoes?"
Sure enough, the strange man was wearing tennis shoes. The whole class stared with wide eyes.
"Very impressive observation, Andre," he said, walking up the step. He stuck out a foot, allowing more of the shoe to be shown. "It would appear that I am indeed wearing the Nike, Air Max-Moto, waterproof and virtually invincible running shoes. Now that you have had that informative infomercial, we shall move on."
I cocked my head, still not able to understand this teacher.
"Now, Miss Buckley," he said, "will be performing the Bird Scene for us. Miss Buckley."
I stood up, walking up the step, while Sikowitz sat in the back of the room. I immediately felt the nerves arise… as well as the intimidation. These people were so much more amazing than I was.
Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. After all, there was no way I would be able to do this correctly. What if I sounded completely stupid and unprofessional?
My mom and sister's conversations came back to me. I swallowed, remembering a verse I had read the night before. "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." I sighed, mentally. Lord… I'm gonna need some serious help on this. Just… just help me through this.
I had reached the top of the stair and turned to face the others. Tori gave me an encouraging smile and nod. Andre gave one as well. I cleared my throat and began to recite the "Bird Scene".
It was 1934 when my husband left me, alone.
Living on the prairie was a dreary existence; no telephone, no radio.
Only a large, majestic bird with whom I shared my feelings.
One day when I was feeling low I said to him,
"Oh, bird. You can fly. You can soar miles from this lonely place, yet you stay... Why?"
And apparently, my question rang true, for that afternoon...the bird left.
And so went my spirit.
Of course, I didn't expect applause. This was, after all, the "Bird Scene". Sikowitz stood.
"Well, I think we can all say that that was the most atrocious and gut-wrenching reading of the 'Bird Scene', known to man kind," he said, standing beside me.
I felt bad for a few seconds, but then remembered what the "Bird Scene" was for and looked at him, as he turned to face me.
"Your interpretation was completely wrong, Miss Buckley," he said, his hands clasped in front of him. "I'm afraid that you will have to present this again to us, when you know it better."
I tried to sound respectable, as I replied, "My interpretation isn't wrong, Mr. Sikowitz. The 'Bird Scene' is an objective and non-interpretive piece, that can't be told in only one way. My interpretation is only different from yours and… I will not change it."
I could tell that the class was shocked. Mr. Sikowitz was studying me, as if trying to read me. He finally gave a nod and big gesture.
"All right, I'll let it pass," he said. "You nailed it."
The class applauded. Tori's eyes were still bugged-eyed. Andre was beaming and the others were giving smiles and whispered to each other with awe.
My cheeks were beet red, as I sat down. Mr. Sikowitz folded his hands behind his back.
"Now… on to Improvisation, if you please… good Gandhi, I left my coconut in the car! Talk amongst yourselves!"
He took off, slamming the door behind him. I shook my head, shuddering. The man was two steps away from a mental ward.
Tori turned to me. "Ok, how did you do that?"
"Do what," I asked, realizing that everyone was looking at me.
"No one's been able to pass the "Bird Scene" on the first try," said Andre, "except Beck."
Beck leaned forward from behind us. "I didn't put is as nicely as you did."
Cat looked over at our row. "One time, my brother kicked a policeman and he said it wasn't very nice at all."
I looked over at Tori. "Is she always so-
"Yep."
"Ok, girl," said Andre, leaning forward. "You didn't tell us you could act either."
I shrugged, a little. "I've never thought of myself as an actress."
"You didn't stumble or mess up at all," he explained. "You didn't ask Sikowitz any questions and you sounded so realistic."
"It almost made me vomit," remarked Jade, not even looking.
Beck smiled. "That means you were great."
Mr. Sikowitz ran back in, gasping and gripping his coconut. "I have it! No need for panic! She's safe!"
"The coconut is safe," questioned Robbie.
"Only safe coconuts taste good."
I shared a look with Tori, but then smiled. Maybe this wouldn't be such a bad class after all.
Author's Note; Here you are! Remember, this is all Gwen's point of view and so her thoughts cause a "slow-motion" move, in time. Anyways, review!
