Hey sorry I didn't update for a few, I was over my sister's house. Eating Taco Bell. No literally ate Taco Bell all weekend and I highly recommend the Baja Blast Freeze bc life aka bc it's just really really good. :)
It's been a constant phrase that I've heard my whole life. The one where doing what you love was the most important thing. Most teenagers took that phrase too literally as in actually doing what they loved, as in who they loved most of the time. But I had no need to worry about that, it's not like awkward was some sort of mating call to guys. I was stuck taking the phrase as it was meant to be, doing something with my life and spare time that brought happiness instead of climaxes. Plus, doing something that I loved made a guarantee that it wouldn't leave me, it couldn't find someone better and leave me unless I wanted it to.
And my love was sitting right in front of me. My bow to my violin was in my hand and I stared at the piece on my stand in happiness. I was a band geek, if I had to be honest. I would rather sit and learn 5 new songs on a Friday night than go out and get drunk just to puke it all up the next day. Not that I had the option since I was never invited anywhere anyway. It sounded like I was complaining but it actually wasn't that bad considering, I didn't have to deal with people calling me a loser if I didn't want to do ecstasy or whatever drug they managed to take from their parents medicine cabinet. I also could sit around in sweatpants and not give a crap what I looked like.
Being the first chair violinist made my hands clammy and my heart race and from the looks of the people around me, they didn't appreciate the new girl coming in and taking first chair either. I tried to keep focus on my new sheet music when Ms. Oh, my teacher, started talking.
"Alright class, this year we have a new student as most of you have noticed. Summer Mitchell, stand up please," she said, gesturing for me to come over to her. I could feel my heart racing as I expected that I'd have to talk about my favorite things or what I liked to do in my spare time, "Summer, tell us about yourself, musically."
That suddenly made the about me process a little bit easier, though I still managed to stutter through the whole thing as my nerves got the best of me like they always do, "Well, I've been playing instruments for as long as I can remember. My first one was the little xylophone that almost every child had but I didn't just tap on it, I tried to make sounds and different tones with it. That's where it started. Then I branched out into piano, then string instruments, and here I am."
"Here you are." She said, as if I was the most important cellist to walk through the doors, "Everyone in here needs to take notes of Summer and realize exactly what being an instrumentalist is."
"You mean take notes on being a suck up." I heard someone mumble and the laughter following behind it proved that I wasn't just making it up in my head. I wanted to turn around and say something but I just kept my head down, focusing on the music because in the end of this class, that was all that mattered.
As we played, I could understand why I was chosen to be the 'suck up' of class. I was the person people wanted to hate on because they couldn't think of anything to do about me, they wanted to bring me down so I could be on the same level as them. But of course, I knew what key to play in while they were making all their notes flat. Ms. Oh had to stop at least every 10 minutes, 5 at the least, to fix someone. I didn't want to talk about anyone in my head, mostly, but they weren't making it easy considering they made fun of me for being good at instruments while they weren't good. I tried to focus on playing but it was hard with the constant chuckles behind me.
I counted down the minutes until the class was over and after what seemed like an hour went by, the bells finally rang and the bows were off the instruments. I struggled to put my violin away quickly enough so that I would have time to find my next class, which was English, without being late. Finally, I got it in but not even with barely enough time to not be late. I decided not to freak over it and just pull the I-Couldn't-Find-It-I'm-New card.
As I turned the corner to the hallway that my map had told me my class was in, someone pulled me back. I turned around knowing that only one person would do that, as if he knew that I knew it was him, he smirked in the same cocky way he always did.
"What are you doing out here?" I asked, realizing I was kind of loud when some class doors were open, so I lowered my voice to a whisper, "Don't you have a class?"
"Don't you?" he retorted.
"Yeah, I do and I was on my way when you pulled me back."
He looked down at my schedule, shifting his head so that he could read the words, "English, same as me. Good, that means you can skip with me."
He turned around, pulling me along but I pulled my arm back and stopped, "I can't skip on the first day of school."
"And why not?" he asked, turning around to face me and walking back toward me.
"Because it's the first day." I said. In my mind, that alone seemed like a good reason to not skip without furthermore explanation but I could tell with Eli, he definitely wanted more.
"The first day of school is the best day to skip, all she does is tell you what we're going to do and assign English partners. Plus, one of my friends is in there too so if you're really worried about missing something, there's your answer." He said, pulling me back with him again, "Now, let's ditch."
"So, what is life like outside of Toronto?"
Eli and I were sitting on the roof of his car. He had a jet black 1967 Ford Mustang convertible that I fell in love with when I first saw it considering I had always wanted one just like I always wanted to learn how to drive. Being 18, I should have been taught but my dad was always too busy with work to teach me and I didn't really have any other adults that would.
"It's not much different. We have different surroundings and different things to do to the spare the time but in the end we all look up at the same sky and see the same things. We have the same annoyances and the same good things. But I guess you could say, it was more open and unique and not general. I lived in New York City, so everything was bigger and brighter and it wasn't judged for being that way, it was admired. And I know, if I pulled any of it here, I'd just judged in a heartbeat."
"Yeah but the key to overcoming that is not giving a fuck." He said, shrugging his shoulders as if it was the easiest thing in the world to do, which for him, it probably was.
"Easy for you to say." I said, as I tried to find shapes in clouds, "But I on the other hand, I have to care. I don't know why, I don't understand why but I can't not care."
"Alright, so you're saying you'd care if someone, anyone, people you didn't even know, complete strangers disapproved of anything about you?"
"Basically," I said, turning to face him, "No I wouldn't take them into consideration when I bought the outfit or put on the shoes but once I walk out and I see people looking at me, depending on how they look at me, I immediately regret it. Plus, I compare myself to people too much and it just gets everything in my head all sad."
I looked at the expression on his face and I, as I always did, immediately regretted it. It wasn't a look that was bad or anything but I couldn't read it, I couldn't tell what he thought about what I said. And I thought I sounded stupid and melodramatic which is what I thought he thought too. But he looked at me and he just looked for a while, no expression, no eye movements, no thoughts that could be read, he just looked.
Finally, he opened his mouth to say something but then closed it back quickly. Then he started again, "You don't have to compare yourself to anyone."
I could tell he wanted to say more but for whatever reason, he left it at that. I wanted to ask what else he wanted to say but he ended it like that for a reason and me trying to make him elaborate more would just end up in a failure that I'd regret starting in the first place.
"So," I said, trying to clear out the awkward air that was just swimming around freely, "Do you skip class often?"
I could see his lips turn up in a smirk as he was looking ahead, "I just do it when I feel like it."
"You're really carefree." I said, almost in admiration but also in fear, "And I can't tell if that's a good or bad thing."
"I can tell you right now, it's not good. I'm not good," he said, turning to look at me with a smile, "For you anyway."
Alright hey hey hey you know you want to review so you should do that cause we're friends and like you know friends do that for each other. Am I right or am I right? (The answer is I am right)