I do not own anything, just my ideas!
Chapter 11
TRIS
I walk into music, and the class is buzzing with some excitement. Normally, students aren't that excited about learning after lunch, especially being in food comas, but on the board is a big sign that says: TALENT TUESDAY: PERFORMANCES TODAY.
I guess today is Tuesday. That is our teacher's way of saying that some of us better be prepared to get our monthly project done. Anyone can go today, and any amount of people. It could range from three to six. I really hope I don't go today; it's not that I'm not prepared. I am. I just hope I can hold it off as long as I can.
The bell rings and Ms. Reyes stands at the front of the class with a big hat in her hands. "Class, every group, duet, soloist, or whatever you are, is written on a piece of paper in this hat. I am going to pick a few people by luck of the draw, and first to perform will be..." and she reaches her hand down and pulls out a single slip, "Tris."
Damn it. I really would rather not go. At all. Unfortunately, I have no choice. I open my folder and get my stuff out as Ms. Reyes asks, "What will you be doing for us today?"
"Umm, I have this song. I'm going to play it on the piano." I reach out my sheet music and show her.
"It's a song, as in lyrics. Won't you be singing?"
"No, I would rather not."
"The song is meant to be sung; there are words there, so you must follow the arranger's piece. We like a little divergence in our thinking; you know, slight modifications due to the way you interpret the piece. But you can't just not sing the words. You know the lyrics, right?"
I nod my head in confirmation. I haven't sung a note in years, but I do participate in a good amount of humming. It couldn't be that bad, right? Besides everyone is still in their food coma from lunch, what are the odds that people will remember every detail of today anyway? I just pray that the people who will go after me are more memorable and I will just float away out of people's memories.
I make my way up to the front of the class. I have my sheet music in my hands and carefully lay them out in front of me on the piano, just like mom taught me. I start to glide my fingers along the keys and sweet sounds slowly bring me back to when I was little. Remembering how to play, well it was like riding a bike; nothing's really changed.
The simple melody hangs in the air as I breathe, knowing lyrics are coming. I love the piano part of this song, that's why I chose it. But if I'm being honest, the words are pretty on point. I don't want to reveal anything about myself through this song, but the lyrics do hit home for me. Music is art, and art is how you express yourself. When I throw myself into an art project, I go head on. If I'm expressing myself, I might as well put all of me into it. Even if I don't know what 'me' really is. I take one low, deep breath and begin.
All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for the daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow
And I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take
When people run is circles it's a very, very Mad World
Children wait until the day they feel good
Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday
And I feel the way that every child should
Sit and listen, sit and listen
Went to school and I was very nervous
No one knew me, no one knew me
Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson
Look right through me, look right through me
And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take
When people run in circles it's a very, very Mad World
I graze my fingers along the keys and add a little improv strokes. I finish oh so delicately. I glance up for the first time and the class is silent and staring; they all have aww in their faces. I want to hide away, I really do not like being the center of attention, good or bad. I wish they would just look away. Then they start clapping and hollering. I give a little half smile and nod my head in thanks and walk back to my seat.
When I am seated, Ms. Reyes begins to pick the next act to perform. It is someone playing the saxophone, and I try to sit and listen but Christina tries to talk.
"Where did you learn to play like that?" She whispers to me.
"Umm, it's something I used to do a while back. I figured I could give it a whirl since this is music class." I whisper back.
"Give it a whirl? Tris, that was really good, the piano part you did. I mean, don't get me wrong, but compared to the enchanting piano stuff you did, the singing was..."
"I know. I tried to tell Ms. Reyes that it would be best not to do the lyrics, but she insisted. Next time I chose something with no words."
"Ladies." Ms. Reyes says. "Can it wait till after class?"
"Sorry." We both mutter. The rest of class goes by fast and uneventful, to my dismay. When the bell rings and people begin to file out, some people come up to me about the song, but I manage to excuse myself to my locker. I grab my books for math and replace them with my music stuff. I can feel someone coming before I see them; call it another sense I've developed over the past few years.
"You don't need me to say you did really well in there." Four says as he walks up to me.
"Umm, thanks. I guess it is an art thing."
"Listen," he says as he gently grabs my arm, "you were good; you are good. Don't let anyone downgrade you, and don't downgrade yourself."
This kind of takes me back a little, why would he be telling me this. I feel like ever since I did that song I've been vulnerable, almost. But with him here, next to me, holding onto me, I don't feel as lost; it's like he is helping me in a way I just can't help myself. "Okay, thank you. I, uh, have to get to class.."
"Right, I wanted to catch you before you can slip away." He says, "I was thinking of working on the project tonight and doing the knife and gun stuff tomorrow. That okay?"
"That's fine. How about my house? There is a really good office to work in." The office is more of a study/art studio that Tori set up a while ago.
"Awesome, I have practice after school, but I will be there afterwards."
"Cool. See you later then." And we both go our separate ways.
In front of me is a new beginning, so bare and so lifeless; a new canvas to be manipulated. I am standing in the cafeteria with a big white wall standing in front of me. It is up to me to make it special, it takes someone special to make something special. That is what they tried to engrave into me at camp. But this painting isn't about me, it is about the school and the students. That's why I've decided on a certain kind of artwork. I flip to my most recent drawing and hold it up to the wall, trying to see how it will work.
Our mascot is the Firehawk, so that is what the painting will be. But because there are so many people going to this school, they are all going to be a part of it. I am going to paint the outline of the bird and do its head and body, but its feathers are what will make it really special. I plan to make a bunch of feathers by drawing a bunch of lines. Then, every student will form into a group to make their own feather. The groups will come up and dab their thumbs into red paint and make a feather using their thumbprints.
School ended a half hour ago, so the cafeteria is empty. I wanted to see and visualize what I want to do. The wall is so big, I am going to need a ladder to get to the top of it all. I officially start the project tomorrow and I have a pass to get out of class during certain times to work on it. But I will probably just work on it after school. I am actually really excited to work on this, I have never really done anything this big and it kind of makes me even more excited.
I look down and check my watch and I realize that I need to leave to go meet Four. Why did I agree to do this? Maybe I am just tired of being alone, but alone is normal and I am used to it. I think. But he was right, I am starting to get really busy lately; there is no way I could do the english project on my own without someone else's help.
Who would've thought? Me, busy all of a sudden, but I have my reasons. I work out a lot for the training; to get stronger and faster. I am doing the mural for the experience, and it will look nice on my application. If I ever want to escape like I want to, I will need more than just my notebook doodles. I am going to learn that stuff with Four because I need more than just one way to protect and defend myself. And I am working at Tori's. Well, that one is low on the list of 'things I want to do', but I still do it.
I find myself walking through the front door in no time, and I make way to the study. It is a decent sized room that is kind of split down the middle. On one side, the side with the windows, is a nice two-slotted desk with drawers and lots of room; in the corner is a printer and scanner. One side of the long desk is for Tori and her work stuff. The other side is for me to work on my school stuff. All over the wall and the desk are different pictures, athlete bobble-heads, posters, and christmas lights.
On the other side of the room, the side of the room that the sunlight hits during the evening, is where I have a few art things out. I have an easle set up in the corner with a painting of my mom and I from a while back. Our smiles are so pure and genuine, it is one of my favorite things I have done. Along the wall are different half drawn things that I pin up thinking one day I will pull them down and finish them. I think of it as an 'Almost-There' pieces that I will work on, then move onto something different, then go back to the old one. I try to do this, but it mostly consists of my putting up half done or three-fourths or one-third done drawings. But I really do love it.
The best part of all of it are the windows. There are two of them and they are almost as tall as the floor to the ceiling, and they let in the purest, most beautiful evening light. But that isn't the best part. The roof on top of the house is flat, and there is a nice path I have made over the past few years from one of the windows to the roof. I love it up there and it is all mine. Tori doesn't like going up there, and she gives me my space that I need. So it is my own place that no one thinks about, except me.
I hear the doorbell ring, and I run down to get it. Four stands on the other side, his hair glistens and he is wearing a fresh t-shirt and basketball shorts. Good, I was hoping he would clean up after practice. When Caleb would come home from practice, he would stink the place up. So it is nice to know Four is at least considerate, and him having his hands filled with school stuff makes me feel a little better about him over. Part of me naturally feared it would not be just that, but he seems pretty focused.
"Hey, hope I am not too late. I wanted to get here so we could have as much time to work, but I wanted to get cleaned up after practice." He says.
"It's fine, I got home not too long ago, myself. I was messing around upstairs anyway." I tell him, "We'll be working upstairs, if you want to throw your stuff up there. I am going to grab a water from the fridge, you want one?"
"Yes, thanks. I am going to be upstairs."
"Cool, it's the first door on your right." I say as I head to the kitchen.
I grab some waters and a pour some goldfish into a bowl and make my way to the study. When I get there, Four is looking at the painting of my mom and I that I forgot to put away. I put the stuff on my desk and walk over to the easel.
"Is this your mom?" He asks.
"Yeah. This is just something I am doing on the side; it kind of relaxes me, like she is still here. I really like being able to keep a piece of her with me." As I say this he looks down at my hidden chain that peeks into the open behind my neck.
"It's really... happy." He says, "I know that doesn't sound like much, happy, but it's perfect."
"Thanks... So, this project-"
"Right, I had a pretty good idea of what to do for the project. We're supposed to do a literary analysis, so let's go over the book and a few themes, and then we can develop a thesis. From there, it won't be too hard if we have a goal in mind."
"Sounds like a plan." And we start with going over important parts of each chapter, touching bases on the different themes that begin to take form. On the one wall that is not occupied with windows, the door, or my art, is a dry erase board. We divide it into different sections and mark them with the themes we've been seeing. As the time goes on, more and more is written down on the different topics, and we are beginning to get a good idea of what we want to write about what our thesis will be. I can't tell how long it's been, but the sun is beginning to set and we are almost done going over the book.
"So the end," I begin, "I think it is kind of ridiculous in a little bit of a funny way."
"Why would you say that, I mean isn't this book supposed to be humorous?"
"Well, with the end, they were acting like fools, and it was all because of Tom. Tom knew that Jim was free, but he still made this crazy, elaborate, dangerous, unneeded plan to free Jim. The whole spoon thing, it just blows my mind how ridiculous it all is. Tom wanted to be brave and all, but he was just being a fool and a coward." I say. At the end of the book, Huck and Jim find Tom and Tom always wants to be adventurous and be some kind of pirate or something like that. He develops this big plan to help free Jim, when Tom knew he was a free man the entire time. "And the books humor is dark, didn't you see that?"
"I mean, well... What were you thinking?"
"There is humor, but it is dark. The funny stuff, like Huck dressing like a girl, adds a childhood touch, because Huck is just a kid in this story. The 'humor' adds emphasis on the major problems going on, like the family feud or the differencing of social classes. By making a 'joke' of it, it is kind of criticizing it. And Huck sometimes subtly does just that."
"Okay, I see what you mean. But weren't Huck and Tom really similar at the beginning?"
"You're right," I say as a pick up a dry erase marker for the board, "I guess that adds emphasis to the whole 'character change' column we have here."
"Well, wouldn't the contrast of Realism and Romanticism writing styles be representative in the characters? Tom being Romanticism and Huck being Realism."
"That's a good point. And the change in Huck throughout the story is emphasized by Tom's character. When Huck runs away, we don't see Tom till the end, so when we do see Tom again, it is evident of how Huck has changed. For the better, too."
"I guess, with him, running away was the best thing for him to do. I think he ends up with better honor and morals than he did at the beginning."
I know all about running away, you could say, and I don't know how well it actually is. I am trying, I think. Four notices me zoning out, and says, "You okay? What are you thinking?"
"I guess, the whole running away thing, I can't say I don't agree or I disapprove, but I can't help but feel he did the right thing. He believed it was right, he acted on his own and he did something that was totally spontaneous and pretty brave in a sense."
"I think it was pretty brave, especially because he started it alone."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, it's easy to be brave in a group with people around you doing the same thing and going along with you, but being alone is totally different. When you are alone, it is just you; how do you know you will be just as brave and honorable without others there watching you, being with you? I guess doing something that may seem wrong, but it is right at the same time... I don't know, it is interesting and something to look more at."
"I agree, and I think we defiantly have something to write about for the paper from all this." As I say this, I motion the dry erase board that is completely covered with everything Huckleberry Finn. It is then that I notice that the sun has completely set, and it is dark outside. Tori walks in just then and says, "Hey Four, I didn't know you were still here."
"Yeah, I guess we lost track of time working on homework."
"Well it is a school night and you probably have other homework, why don't you head home. I don't want to get either of us in trouble for you getting home late."
When Tori says this, he loses some color to his face and slowly begins to grab his stuff.
"I'll keep all this up." I say pointing to the board.
"Good, we will defiantly need to meet up again, but I think that we got a good amount done." He says and he has all his stuff packed up. I walk with him to the door and find myself walking down the driveway with him.
"I really do appreciate you doing this with me." He tells me. He isn't touching me, but his eyes drive through mine. His eyes, which are clear even in the dark of night. Just doing this, makes me feel close, and I don't mind it because there is something that makes me feel fine with him. I don't think about my past, I think about the now.
"It's no big deal, I guess. We're getting work done, which is good." I shrug.
"Seriously," he says as he takes a step closer, "thank you. And I wanted to ask you, if you want to do it, some of us are going paint-balling this weekend, would you like to come?" He is so close, I can feel his body warmth in the cooling night.
"Umm, I don't know. I may be working, and I am not sure I know what paint-balling is."
"It is a lot of fun. We divide into teams and it's basically war and sometimes we throw in a flag and play capture the flag, just for a twist. At least consider it, if it makes you feel better, Christina will be there."
"... I'll think about it."
A smile creeps along his face and he adds, "And don't forget the football deal. We won last week, so I will be looking for you this week, too."
"Thanks for the reminder, and you should know I didn't forget. When I make a promise I keep it."
"Awesome, I guess I will see you tomorrow." He waves goodbye and slowly walks away into the mysterious night. This moment, right now, I have a feeling to do a million different things, one being to run up and just be near him. He makes me feel all weird inside, like I'm bursting with something that I haven't felt in a while. It's small, and after not having something that feel right in a long time, I am a little hesitant to go full force. I just hope it won't get taken away.
Author's Note
I know, a song... But I really like it and if you are looking for a song to correlate with it, don't worry; I would not leave you all hanging like that. If you need inspiration in all your wonderful minds, the song is Mad World and listen to the Adam Lambert version or the second half of the Glee Project's version (specifically Marisa's part towards the end).
This one was a long one, and I hope I didn't lose too many people when they were discussing the book. If you haven't read it, then I apologize if you were like, "Huh?!". And if you have read it, I hope I was accurate with some of the stuff I have written down. I tried to proof read for errors, so hopefully there aren't any. Please review!
Be brave, everyone!
