And here we are, with the third chapter on this new entry of the Heroverse. Trying to be more concise and short with the chapters is a bit harder than I anticipated, but I think it has the benefits of making for easier reading and accelerating the translation process so I can post chapters faster. I'm not being as meticulous as I usually try to be, but talking about this story with my friends, seems to be having good results so far.
I've been asked about the chapter titles. For those that haven't realized it yet, each chapter is named after a song from the High School Musical movies. I tried to make them all from the first movie, but I took two from the sequel. I had a lot of fun naming the chapters in my outline, and each chapter is related to the context of the songs within the movie. Sometimes in a direct way, sometimes a bit more metaphorically. So open Disney+ and go watch the first movie at least to understand this fic better lmao
Thanks as always to everyone that leaves a review.
Jeff: Yeah, I think we can all understand the collateral damage that happens when heroes do their job, but Luna has a very particular view on that subject. She'll probably have those views challenged during the story ;)
Guest1: The same way that Luna got her powers: they were born with them.
FanficFan920: Technically Nova and Eclipse were the first Non-Loud meta since they're not Louds in this story hahaha. But yeah, Tabby's joining the roster now. And we'll have to wait and see to hear what Lincoln has been up to!
STR2D3PO: I agree with you, though I don't think it's unreasonable for her to warn Tabby against the dangers of becoming a superhero.
Spoonas: Mmm I disagree there, I think Luna's powers are really cool, and she can use them in some interesting ways we'll see during the story.
Your Saving Grace is Here: It's a crackship started by the one and only JamesSunderlandsPillow. They haven't interacted in the show but that's why fanon is so fun lol
Guest2: That sounds terrible for this story lol
The Siege PeriLAME: Shut up, Coldplay is a great name for her.
So yeah, let's go ahead and start the third chapter that transitions between the first and the second act of the story.
Chapter 3:
Stick to the status quo.
Usually, anyone from the audience that jumped and ran right onto the field would be stopped by the security, someone from either of the squads or even a referee. Of course, it wasn't usual for an entire team to be crawling and screaming in agony, grabbing their heads with both hands. Everyone was too busy taking in the whole situation to pay attention to me as I sneaked through the people, sprinting as fast as I could towards Sully.
I stood in front of him and grabbed him by an arm, carefully trying to keep him steady.
"What's going on?! Are you okay?! Are you hurt?!" I asked, eyeing him up, looking for a wound or something similar, but finding nothing.
He was twisting in pain and letting out guttural sounds, with heavy sweat pouring down his brow, and his veins sticking out of his neck as if they were about to blow up. I had never seen anything like it. A cold hand wrapped itself around my heart.
He looked like he was about to die.
"L… L-Luna!" He struggled to say, looking at me with bloodshot eyes.
"Sully! Sully, I'm here! What's wrong?!"
"I… I…"
For a second, he seemed to get over the pain that was tearing him up from the inside, and he stared right into my eyes. It was a look filled with desperation, anguish like I'd never seen on Sully, the friendliest, most optimistic person I'd ever met in my life.
His hand moved faster than my eye could catch, and it closed around my wrist with an iron grip.
"Ah! S-Sully!"
"I fucked up!" He yelled at me, strong enough for the whole court to hear. "I cheated on Mazzy!"
"S-Sully, you're hurting me!" I said, trying to get him to release my wrist, but he only squeezed harder.
"I was unfaithful! I cheated on my girlfriend! Chelsea seduced me and I didn't say no! I thought I wouldn't hurt Mazzy, that she'd never find out! I said it would be a one-time thing, but I couldn't stop! I've been living with this regret for months! I don't deserve Mazzy, but I don't know what I'd do without her! She's the best thing that's ever happened to me!"
Fear was starting to take over me. My main worry right then was to get Sully to let me go. I was about to fall on my knees due to how much his grip hurt. People were more often than not surprised to hear that Sully played football since his tall, slim body didn't seem to be fit for it, but right then I was experiencing in the first person just how strong he was. My eyes burned as the first tears were getting ready to fall down my cheeks, but I tried to focus.
What the hell was going on? Why was Sully saying those things? They… They couldn't be true, right? He would never cheat on his girlfriend with one of the cheerleaders. He loved Mazzy! Why was he saying all that? Why?
With my free hand, I tried to pry his fist open. He kept talking to the air, sharing his confession at full volume. He wasn't the only one screaming. All his teammates, surrounded by adults, friends, and security guards were doing the same, and among the chaos, I managed to hear some of the things they were saying.
"I hate football! I hate my friends! I hate that I'm here, but it's my only chance of getting a scholarship!" One of the runningbacks admitted to.
"I'm a fucking addict! I can't quit smoking, but if the coach ever found out he'd kick me out of the team! It's the only thing that helps me get over my fear of being a failure!" Said Roger, the captain.
"I fucked my best friend's little sister! I hate myself every day for it, but if I could, I'd do it again!"
Even without the pain, that whole situation was starting to get me severely terrified. Why were they all saying such embarrassing, incriminatory things about themselves? Why was the whole team suddenly giving away their darkest secrets?
What the hell was going on?
Sam and Mazzy appeared all of a sudden, grabbing Sully by the shoulders and trying to get him away from me.
"Let her go!" Yelled Sam, wrapping her arm around his neck.
"S-Sully, you're hurting her!" Mazzy said, already crying a river.
Our friend seemed to calm down for a second, his yelling stopping and his gaze losing itself in the horizon.
And then he roared, letting go of my wrist to violently shake my friends off him. The three of us fell to the ground, and I could immediately feel the burn where he had been holding me. I looked at my arm, and the print of his fingers was clearly visible on my wrist. The skin was irritated, and I knew that it was a matter of minutes before a nasty bruise appeared. Mazzy was grabbing one of her cheeks where Sully had seemingly hit her, sobbing uncontrollably on the floor, staring at the boy standing in front of her as if she didn't recognize him.
Sully seemed to be about to jump onto us, but a guy from the opposite team tackled him from the side.
"Buddy, you gotta calm down!" He yelled. "This isn't you! Stop this!"
Sam crawled next to me, grabbing me by my shirt.
"Luna! Oh, God, Luna, are you alright?!"
"I'm fine," I lied, wiping the tears away with the back of my other hand. "What the hell is going on?"
"I don't know! It's crazy!"
Everything around us was pure chaos. Our players were fighting anyone that got close to help them. Luckily, the players from the other team were now helping the security guards and those parents that had gotten onto the field to try to control their sons. Still, fights were still unfolding, and all the screaming and confessions wouldn't stop coming out of the players' mouths, who were still completely possessed by a spirit of violence and… honesty?
Being there was a surreal experience.
"Luna, you gotta stop this," Sam told me, looking at me in the eye.
"Me? How am I supposed to stop this?"
"Sing a lullaby to get them to sleep, or something to calm them down!" She fervently whispered.
I'm sure she meant well. She just wanted to help our friends and stop the situation before it escalated. Still, she had just given me an emotional punch by simply proposing something as deranged as using my powers in public.
"Are you out of your mind?" I said, not believing what my ears had heard.
"Something weird is going on! Everyone's fighting each other! You gotta stop it, you have the power to do it!"
"I can't just start singing! Even if it worked, everyone would know it was because of me! What the hell are you thinking?"
"Then… I don't know, hide somewhere and make a sonic boom to knock them all out!"
"A sonic…? Sam!" I said, standing up and losing my proverbial shit. "What the fuck? How dare you even…?! God damn it, Sam!"
Wrath was running through my veins. A fury that burned like molten lava filling every fiber of my body with anger.
"I'm sorry! I don't know what to do! I thought—!"
"Shut up!"
Using my free hand, I did the only thing I could do to help Sully and his friends without ruining my life or risking everyone else's.
I called the cops.
Only after several police cars showed up were they able to contain the players gone mad, sending them straight to the hospital to get checked. We were told that they stayed in that altered state until they were sedated. When they woke up, the confusion that clouded their minds was gone, but they still kept them in the hospital to keep an eye on them and run some studies.
They didn't let us visit him until the next day. Mazzy, Sam, and I went to the hospital in the afternoon. We let Mazzy go in first. She'd heard everything Sully had revealed, and she was unquestionably the most affected out of all of us. She deserved a bit of privacy with her boyfriend.
Of course, that left me and Sam sitting in the waiting room. I hadn't spoken to her ever since she had the audacity to suggest I should use my powers that way. She had messaged me a few times the day before, but she correctly interpreted my silence. We were sitting next to each other. I was pretending to check my phone so I wouldn't have to deal with her.
At one point, she stood up without saying a word and walked away. She came back a few minutes later with two sodas. She sat down and offered me one.
"They had Baja Blast," she apologetically said.
I sighed. That was my favorite kind of Mountain Dew. I knew that at the end of the day my frustration wouldn't last forever. Maybe it would have been better if I just got over my pity anger.
"Thanks."
"I'm sorry."
"I know. Me too."
"I was scared. I shouldn't have said… that."
"I getcha. Just… It wasn't the best moment. I still had my conversation with Tabby present in my head, and when you made me remember the accident…"
"I know, I'm so sorry!" She said, wrapping her arms around me with pain in her voice. "I'm an idiot, I spoke without thinking! I just… I honestly just wanted to suggest the song thing, not the… you know, the other thing."
"I'd appreciate you not suggesting my powers at all, not just the sonic boom."
"I know."
I hugged her. I knew she was sorry. I could also understand where she was coming from. She wasn't a metahuman. She had no powers. Most people without powers enjoyed fantasizing about them, imagining all the ways they could use them to solve all their problems, as insignificant as they were.
That incident had been anything but insignificant. Our friend had lost his mind, possessed by a demon we didn't understand. Of course, she'd want to stop it. Naturally, she'd think about my powers.
And yes, the truth is that I could have ended that situation. If I managed to make myself be heard above all the ruckus, I could have tone down the strong emotions they were feeling. I could have, as Sam suggested, sing a lullaby to get them sleepy and eventually fall asleep. And then what?
People weren't idiots. They would realize the connection between a girl singing out of nowhere and then everything working out all of a sudden. They would know I was a metahuman, and that'd be the end of my life. Police would have to activate the Secret Identity Protocol and relocalize Chunk, Tabby, and me. We would have to start our lives all over again from scratch. Even worse, I could end up disappearing like every other metahuman ever did, sooner or later, in Royal Woods. And all of that assuming something didn't backfire with my powers and someone else got hurt as a result.
No, using powers in public always led to tragedies. I wasn't willing to risk it.
"I shouldn't have suggested something like that," Sam told me. "I should've considered your feelings, you know the last thing I want is to hurt you."
"I know," I reassured her, breaking the hug to look at her in the eye.
She smiled at me, lovingly squeezing my arm. "Even so, as your best friend, I gotta ask you to not let guilt control you."
I sighed, looking away. "Sam, are we really gonna have this conversation again?"
"We'll have it as many times as we need to help you deal with your guilt."
"That's never gonna happen. It's not something I can pretend never happened."
"You don't have to pretend it didn't happen," she clarified, her eyes filled with worry, "you just have to forgive yourself."
"That's the same thing."
"Of course not! What's done, it's done, there's nothing we can do to change it. But you can accept it, understand it wasn't your fault, and make peace with yourself. You have a very special gift, you can't pretend it's not a part of yourself, to treat it like a curse."
"It is a curse," I reminded her. "Using it without proper control only causes pain, and if I were to ever use them in public, my family and I would be in danger. What part of them am I supposed to accept?"
"The part that you can use to help others. Why would a curse be so useful at helping your sister with her nightmares? Or… why would it make me feel the beautiful emotions you used to give me?"
Even after so many months, remembering what Sam was talking about made me blush.
"That's the worst kind of curse," I said with a somber voice. "The ones that make you believe they're beautiful."
Sam sighed. She knew how stubborn and convinced of my position I was, just like I knew about her strong views on how I should be more forgiving with myself. We were the old paradox of the unstoppable spear and the unbreakable shield. Neither of the two was ready to give in, tangled in a discussion that was years in the making without reaching any conclusion or agreement.
Right then, it wasn't necessary for us to keep debating, since external factors stopped the discussion for us.
"Mazzy, wait!"
The door to Sully's room slammed open and our friend ran away from it, moving away from us without saying a word and leaving a trail of tears after her.
"Shit," Sam said, standing up. "I'll go get her, try to find out what happened to Sully."
To be honest, I also wanted to go after Mazzy, but I assumed it was better for me to try and listen to Sully and his side of the story. It was the least I could do for who up until the day before had been one of my best friends. Even with the horrible things that I heard him confess and the damage he did to my wrist, he had also been through a terrible, scary situation. I could at the very least hear what he had to say for himself.
I drank a big chunk of soda before walking into the room. Sully was lying on his bed. He didn't have any serum connected to him, and he was wearing a casual set of clothes. He didn't seem to be physically ill, but he was openly crying, and his face was a perfect picture of regret and pain. Seeing him like that was almost enough to make me wanna run up to comfort him.
Almost.
He opened his eyes and stared at me as I walked in. He tried to dart his eyes away, not being able to look me in the eye, but he noticed the bandages on my wrist.
"Oh my God, did I do that?" He asked, sitting up. "Luna, I'm so sorry, I swear I don't know what came over me. Is it too bad?"
"Just some bruises," I answered, trying to stay stoic and not showing how worried I truly was about him. "I'll be fine. I'm the one you hurt the least yesterday."
He accused the punch even worse than I imagined. He lowered his head and covered his face with the palms of his hands. He didn't even have the bravery to reply. It didn't take a genius to realize he was truly sorry and ashamed of himself.
Which meant that, indeed, there was something to be ashamed of.
"Is it true, then? What you said on the field?"
He clenched his fists but didn't answer.
"Sully. Is it true?"
"I can't remember what happened… I can barely remember playing the match."
"Don't dodge the question!" I demanded. "Did you cheat on Mazzy with one of those cheerleaders?"
"Yes."
Even knowing it was true, to hear him say it once again was just as painful as the first time. Maybe even more.
"God damn it, Sully, why?" I asked, stepping closer. I wanted to talk to him face to face. "Why would you cheat on Mazzy? You two are inseparable! I thought you loved her!"
"I do!" He told me, scandalized.
"Apparently, not enough!"
"I don't… You know I… didn't want to force Mazzy to do anything she wasn't ready for," he shamefully explained. "I would never do that! I want her to feel comfortable, not pressured by me or anything. Chelsea… she came onto me after a game. She didn't want a relationship, just a night of pleasure. I wanted to say no, but it was so tempting!"
I wanted to throw up. I couldn't believe that the Sully I knew would have even considered that bitch's proposal.
"How long have you been sleeping with her?"
"...a couple of months. It's not like we see each other every week, it was only a couple of—"
"And you had the nerve to keep dating Mazzy when you were seeing another girl behind her back!"
"It wasn't like that! I didn't think of Chelsea romantically! I feel nothing for her, we haven't even kissed!"
"You SLEPT with her, you idiot! Multiple times! You want me to pat your back because you didn't kiss her?"
"No! I know it was so wrong! I know I messed everything up! I knew it back then, but I was an asshole and I couldn't say no!"
I made sure to close the Mountain Dew bottle to keep it from spilling the remaining soda before throwing it at Sully's chest. It seemed to hurt him, and he looked at me for an instant, but he didn't even dare to complain.
"You have no clue how disappointed I am right now."
"I know. I deserve it. I'm also disappointed with myself."
"I never thought you'd be capable of something like this. I still can't believe it."
"I can't even look at you in the face. I just… I never meant for this to happen."
"You shouldn't have let it happen, then."
"Is there anything I can do to make you forgive me?" He asked, looking genuinely hurt.
I wanted to say no. Right then, I felt grossed out by just being in the same room as him. Part of me felt betrayed. Yeah, he cheated on Mazzy, but he had also lied to Sam and me by presenting himself like there was nothing going on. If he could hide something this big, what other things was he keeping from us? How much did we really know Sully?
And yet, we had been friends for years. We had been through countless experiences. Things I knew were real. This revelation had become an unerasable stain in our relationship, but how much did that cover? How many good memories and moments spent together were now stained as well? All of them? Some of them? Was there still room for me to feel pity for him, or was it all over?
My instinct was telling me that there was nothing he could do for me to forgive him. And yet, something in my heart kept me from saying it out loud.
"I don't know," I ended up saying. "I really don't know. I can't even imagine what Mazzy's going through."
He didn't say anything, apparently agreeing with what I was saying. It made me feel a bit sad, but I couldn't let him know.
"Sully… What the fuck happened to you? Why did you all go… like that?"
"I don't know. We were okay. We were winning! The last thing I remember was stopping the game to hydrate and have a tactical chat with the coach. We were discussing our attacking formation… and then it's all blank. I don't know what happened. Some people sent me a few videos, and it's like watching someone else."
He looked at my wrist again, and then into my eyes.
"I know I don't deserve to be forgiven for what I did to Mazzy. But Luna, you must know, I would never hurt you like that."
"I know," I said, sighing and moving towards the door. "Right then you had no control over your actions. Which is why my wrist hurts the least."
Going to school the next day was very uncomfortable. Sam and I tried to keep Mazzy distracted and to be there for her, but it was hard to keep her mind away from Sully when all everyone talked about at school was the incident at the game. Most students hadn't been there, but there were some videos going around, and rumors spread at an unstoppable speed.
The players had all been released from the hospital, but most of them decided to take Monday off to stay at home. Sully, naturally, didn't even bother showing up. Whenever I had a few moments on my own, I imagined different excuses that I could come up with for him, ways I could potentially forgive him. But every time I looked at how miserable Mazzy was, any kind of sympathy I had for my former friend was lost. He had been her first boyfriend, and the love she professed for him was truly an inspiration. She didn't deserve this at all.
The anger she felt for her boyfriend was only matched by the contempt she felt for Chelsea, the cheerleader that seduced her boyfriend.
"All her friends must have known," she mumbled during lunch. "Those bitches must have thought I was an idiot. Laughing behind my back. Making fun of me while she slept with my boyfriend."
"Who cares what those assholes think?" Sam said. "They're the kind of imbeciles that will grow up to marry a guy fifteen years older than themselves, have a kid as soon as possible to secure a marriage, and then live a miserable life until one day they look at themselves in the mirror only to find that they're old and worthless."
"They can only affect you as much as you let them," I added. "Forget about them, they're not important. Remember, you're better than them. And you have us."
"And we're so much better than those cheerleaders. More fun. Smarter. Better at Mario Kart."
"I bet they don't even know how to play it."
"I bet they don't even know who Mario is."
Our attempts at cheering her up didn't seem to be particularly effective, but at the very least she didn't seem to be on the edge of killing someone because they looked at her in a funny way. Sam, on the other hand, was dealing with stress in her own way. She was being even more impertinent than usual during class, almost starting a fight with whoever stared at us for longer than a couple of seconds. During our Spanish class, he hit one of our classmates in the head with a protractor, and our professor put her in detention after class ended.
And so, when the day was over and she was heading for detention, Mazzy and I went on our own.
"Do you have anything to do?" I asked. "I'm free all afternoon. We can go to the mall, or to the music store."
"I wanna be alone."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. Thanks, Luna, but I really just wanna go home and sleep for a decade. Wake me up when September ends."
I grabbed her hand, squeezing to let her know that she had my unconditional support. "Can I at least walk you home?"
"...yeah, sure."
"Alright. I'm supposed to stay after class tomorrow to have our first rehearsal with the drama club, but I don't really feel like doing anything. Let me go to the rehearsal room to see if Mr. Budden is there to tell him I'm taking tomorrow off."
"Alright. I'll wait for you here," she deadpanned.
I jogged towards the rehearsal room. I didn't know the schedule of our director of the orchestra, but I assumed that if he was still in the school, that was the best place to check. It didn't take long for me to reach the pavilion where the gym, the auditorium, and the rehearsal rooms were located. I was walking through the service hall, past the auditorium doors, when the sound of a song reached my ears. A familiar song. My heart started beating faster when I recognized it.
I stopped my little jog so I could walk and pay attention to the notes as I reached the open doors of the music room, standing on the threshold.
Carol Pingrey was in the middle of the room, her back to me, playing cello with the technical perfection I should have been used to but that still continued to surprise me. No one else was in the room. It was just her, focused a hundred percent on her music, letting the notes float in the room, surrounding us.
The memories flooded my mind and I allowed myself to close my eyes to enjoy it. Of course, the more I focused on the music, the easier it was for me to read Carol's feelings. It was amazing how easy I could read people through their music. Right then, every passing compass helped me get a better picture of Carol than any conversation could.
She was afraid. Every note was covered with fear of failure, of being imperfect, of not being good enough. She didn't miss a single note, but those that were complex to play or hard to reach, I noticed her doubts and the following fear of not making it. Her usual determination wasn't present right then. I assumed that it would be impossible to see on her face if I had her in front of me, but the music didn't lie; there was an unmistakable fear of not reaching the expectations, falling short, being a failure.
The fact that those emotions could be found with such strength in such a beautiful, tranquil song like that confused me. It was a weird mix, and I didn't know how to react.
I would have loved to stay there for hours, trying to decipher Carol Pingrey's complicated emotions, but unfortunately, there were only a couple of compasses left in the piece, and soon the final note resonated in the air until Carol cut it short.
She sighed, bowing her head down like she was exhausted. Part of me wanted to silently walk away, leave her alone, and pretend that I hadn't seen any of this. A different part of me, however, believed that Carol needed a friendly voice to help her out with her issues. That song was a call for help. One that no one was supposed to hear, to understand, but that I had received loud and clear.
I cleared my throat, making myself known before I could regret it.
Carol turned around, staring at me surprised at first, and then with her usual neutrality. "Oh, hey Luna. I didn't see you there."
"Sorry, I was looking for Mr. Budden. I didn't want to interrupt you…"
"Don't worry. I was just practicing. Mr. Budden is gone, he gave me permission to use the room before he left."
Without thinking, I stepped into the room and closed the door behind me, walking towards the piano.
"Oh. Well, I guess I'll see him tomorrow," I resigned myself. "I didn't know we could ask to practice here. I'll keep that in mind. I could use it."
"Yeah… I needed to distract myself a bit," she commented, pulling a string of her hair behind her ear. "How... ? How's your friend, Sullivan?"
"Getting better," I simply said, not looking forward to talking about him.
Did Carol know that he had been cheating on Mazzy? Was she friends with Chelsea?
"I don't know what happened yesterday, but it was insane," she added, seemingly satisfied with my answer.
"Honestly. It was pretty terrifying."
"You didn't seem terrified. You jumped right onto the field before many of the security guards even moved. That was really brave of you."
"Or very stupid," I said, rubbing my neck.
Carol smiled. "Sometimes they go hand-in-hand, but I think it speaks really well of you that you would put yourself in danger for a friend."
"Well… Thanks. I, uh… I acted without thinking. It's a common theme with me."
Listening to her compliments was filling my chest with warm feelings and it distracted me from my objective. As much as I would have loved to stay there and keep receiving such pretty words that she was throwing like it was nothing, I knew that there were some feelings that Carol was keeping for herself. Fears, insecurities. And I wanted to let her know that there was someone she could trust.
"Anyway… I'm sorry for overhearing without letting you know I was here. But you were so focused… and you didn't miss a single note! It was phenomenal."
It was now Carol's turn to look suddenly embarrassed.
"Oh. Wow, well… thanks a lot. Do you know the song?"
"Mother and child, by William Grant Still. It's usually a duet between cello and piano," I said, playing a couple of the piece's arpeggios on the school's piano, "but you didn't need it."
"Huh. No offense, but I wouldn't have guessed that you were into classical music. I assumed you were more into… well, punk rock, stuff like that."
I chuckled at that acute observation.
"Yeah, well, my favorite genres are definitely rock, punk, ska, that kind of music," I said, playing some chords. "Crawling in my skin, these wounds, they will not heal. Fear is how I fall, confusing what is real." I looked up at her for a second to see if she recognized the song. She didn't seem to. "But I'm honestly interested in all genres. Some more than others, but I think every kind of music has something interesting to teach us and something I can learn from. What kind of music do you listen to?"
Carol smiled, and in an act that I thought was interesting, she casually leaned on her cello. During our rehearsals, she always kept her back straight in a perfect posture. It was probably the first time I ever saw her so relaxed.
"Well, to be honest, I mostly focus on classical music. When I go to parties or hang out with my classmates I listen to whatever's trending and what they like, but it's not like I pay much attention to learn the names or the lyrics."
"I'm guessing you don't listen to rap, then?" I asked with obvious sarcasm.
"Uh, does Hamilton count?"
We both laughed. At least she was self-aware.
"You know? You can have this," I said with a smile.
"Alright, alright. And how did you end up listening to William Grant Still?"
My smile hesitated, and I looked away as I dropped my shoulders.
"My mom was a music professor. She used to listen to it."
"Was?" She asked, lowering her voice.
"Yeah, she… she passed away."
"Oh… I'm so sorry, Luna. I didn't know."
"No, no, it's fine," I said, trying to get back into my positive attitude, failing at it. "It was eight years ago. Don't worry."
"Still… sorry for bringing it up. My parents… they're the ones that taught me about classical music. One of my uncles is a prestigious concert performer, and ever since I was little they told me I could be as good as him."
And all of a sudden, things started to make sense.
"Is that why you try so hard?" I asked, hoping I wasn't pushing the boundaries.
Carol didn't say anything immediately, but her pose got straight once again, leaving behind that casual attitude. She looked much more reserved all of a sudden.
"Yes. It's a very tough dream to achieve, and I need to try my very best if I ever want to reach it."
"Of course. And I'm sure you will, you're crazy talented."
"I… Thanks."
"Just…" I tried to measure my words. "Well, as long as that dream is yours. If that's the case, then I'm sure you'll do great. It's just that the way you phrased it, it kinda looks like your parents chose that dream for you."
For a moment, it looked like I had ruined it all again. Carol's gaze got colder, losing that almost invisible spark of warmth that had been there up until a few seconds ago. Almost the same way I had practically ruined our conversation during the game. Why did I always walk into personal stuff? Why couldn't I have a normal conversation without making it weird?
After some endless seconds, Carol stood up and began putting her cello away.
"You're a weird one, Luna," she said. I was expecting her to sound pissed or irritated, but there was none of it in her voice. She sounded curious if anything. "Why the sudden interest in me?"
"W-What? I don't, uh, I mean—"
"You're likable. Funny. You seem like a good girl. But we're not friends. We've been playing together for months and you never bothered talking to me. And within but a couple of days, you've approached me twice, sharing personal experiences and stuff."
"I-I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable…"
"I'm not uncomfortable," she said, surprising me. "That's what's so baffling. We're not close, but whenever I talk with you, I feel like we have a lot in common. It's weird. My classmates hear me, but it doesn't feel like they listen to me. With you, it's like I can have meaningful conversations. But we're not friends, and I don't know how much I can trust you."
I bit my lips and simply stared at her as she grabbed her case and stepped closer.
"What are you trying to do?" She finally asked.
Towering next to me, the difference in height was so much more noticeable. And so was reality. She was two years older. She was a popular girl, beautiful, talented, rich. I was a sophomore, a punk, a boringly regular girl, with nothing that stood out. Her question was a mystery for me. What was I hoping to accomplish, really? I couldn't seriously hope that we would become friends or something more.
"I don't know," I admitted. "As I said before… sometimes I act without thinking. I just… wanted to talk to you. Get to know you a bit more."
"Just to know me?" She asked, and I could sense that she thought there was something bigger behind it. "And why do you want to know me better?"
"When we play together…" I began, but I stopped, trying to find the way of explaining it without giving away that I had superpowers. "It's like we're on the same page. We complement each other so well. When I close my eyes and I hear you play, like a few moments ago, I feel like we share the same passion for music. I would have never risked talking to you; you know… you're so popular, and I'm a nobody. I'm aware of that. I know we can't be friends. But none of that matters when we let the music do the talking. Before the orchestra, I would have never imagined that. I wanted… I wanted to talk to you to see who you really are, and you're so much different than I pictured you. You're… pretty cool."
I stopped when I realized I was rambling. And looking back at each word, I realized I was saying more than I should have. Beyond what she was probably comfortable hearing.
"I-I'm sorry, I know this is so sudden, I, uh… Sorry."
I said goodbye with a small wave of my hand and I rushed to open the door and walked into the hall. Or I would have if an invisible force hadn't crashed into my face the moment I took a step out.
"Ouch!"
"Ouch!"
I fell back, hitting the door.
"Are you okay?" Carol asked, stepping closer.
"Yeah, I, uh…"
I shook my head and opened my eyes. Kneeling in front of me, rubbing her forehead, was the girl from the drama club that I had helped a few days ago. She looked shocked to see me and then gave a nervous glance behind her.
"I, uh, I need to get going. Bye," said Carol, rushing away towards the parking lot.
She seemed to be a bit anxious. I didn't even have the guts to say anything back. I sighed, knowing I had probably messed it up… again. I stood up and offered a hand to the girl.
"I'm really sorry, I didn't see you," I said, feeling guilty.
"Don't worry," she assured me, talking with the same energy as a sloth on painkillers, "it was my fault for not looking where I was going."
"Are you hurt? Do you need anything?"
She blinked a couple of times, her eyes moving from my face to the hand I offered her. She looked at me like I was an alien.
"N-No, I'm… I'm fine." She accepted my hand with a bit of hesitation, allowing me to help her stand up. "Thank you. You're… you're too kind."
I tried to give her a soft smile.
"I treat people the way I'd like to be treated," I simply said, before remembering something. "I'm Luna, by the way. What's your name?"
"Luan," she said, releasing my hand and hugging her elbows, glancing over her shoulder once again. "Luan DiAngelo."
"You're in the drama club, right?"
"Yes. And you're in the orchestra. You play the piano. You're really good."
I blinked in surprise before I smiled. "Oh, wow, thank you! How do you know that?"
"I've seen some of your rehearsals. You're the most talented one in there, by far."
"I, uh… Wow. I didn't expect that. I don't remember seeing you there," I said, trying to think back to the different rehearsals, but I couldn't remember seeing her before last week. In fact, I didn't remember ever seeing her in school, though to be fair I tended to just focus on my friends.
Luan gave me a sad look. "People don't usually notice me. I'm not very… flashy, precisely."
"Hey, come on, don't say that. Your hair's beautiful!" I complimented, but she shook her head like she didn't believe it.
"Thanks. This is the second time you've helped me, Luna, even if you don't know me."
"Well, I would have to be a really nasty person not to help someone on the ground needing a hand, right?"
"A really nasty person, or just like everyone else who doesn't want to get involved in someone else's problems," she simply said. "See you later. Good luck with your rehearsals."
"Thanks… Good luck to you too."
She bowed her head and rushed away in the same direction Carol left. I sighed. High school life was so complicated…
I grabbed my stuff and walked to the school's front, where Mazzy would be waiting for me. I would have to talk with my professor the next day, or just skip that class. I didn't like that idea, but Mazzy needed me. Besides, Carol would be there, and after everything I told her, I didn't feel like sharing a room with her. It would be so awkward.
On the other hand, it would be the first rehearsal we had with the drama club. Would Luan be there? I'd like to see what role she had, or how she got along with her classmates. It seemed to me that she didn't have many friends, which was kinda sad. I wasn't someone with exactly a bunch of friends, but those I had were treasured to me, and I was at the very least a very sociable person. I could start a conversation with strangers, I had no problem with that. Luan, on the other hand, looked like she was excessively shy and reserved. A cold wall, hard to read.
It ultimately was none of my business, but part of me couldn't know that and not feel sympathy for the girl. The kindest part of my soul wanted to help her, even though I didn't know if she wanted or really needed my help.
I kept reflecting on these issues as I walked away from the pavilion, through the gallery that connected it to the main building of our High School. My mind was busy trying to figure out why lately I was so invested in people I barely knew, but all those thoughts were interrupted when I heard some screams ahead of me.
I approached the source, stopping on my tracks when I found it was a group of girls, screaming in pain, grabbing their heads, and walking like they were losing balance. Some of them fell on their knees, some face-first onto the ground, another one leaned over a streetlight for support. I recognized them. They were our school's cheerleaders. Chelsea was among them, and for a regretful instant, seeing her like that didn't seem as horrifying as it should have been.
As horrifying as it was seeing that Mazzy was with them, covering her face with her hands as she twisted in pain.