The Songs in Our Hearts: A Young Adult Romance
Page 3
“Kodaline. Mumford and Sons. Snow Patrol. Tom Odell. These are all really good,” Micah said with a nod, selecting a Tom Odell song.
“Wait. You know Tom Odell?” I glanced up at him.
Micah nodded. “Well, yeah. Obviously. This is my jam.”
“I didn’t really take you as the kind of guy who enjoyed ‘feely’ music,” I replied.
“What kind of music did you think I liked?” he smirked.
“I guess I figured you were into the hard, screaming kind. If that’s what you call music,” I snorted. “Or punk, rap...that stuff.”
“I guess I listen to those genres sometimes,” he confessed, “but mostly, I listen to whatever I stumble on. I like to discover different artists that other people might have never heard of before. Sometimes, it makes me feel like it was created only for me. Like I’m special.” Micah handed my iPhone back, his ear bud still in place. I admit, his words startled me. I felt the same way about music.
We sat together, listening to a few songs the whole way to school. It seemed like forever, but finally, the bus pulled up into the parking lot and Micah yanked the earbud out, letting it drop against my shoulder.
“Thanks for letting me listen,” he said as he pulled the strap of his backpack over his shoulder. The bus stopped and everyone dispersed onto the sidewalk. Rachel and Jennifer were standing outside, waiting for me as they usually did each morning. Micah headed toward the football field in the opposite direction, where I knew his friends hung out in the alcove. A bunch of them would smoke cigarettes before they made their way into the school to “endure” another day of learning. A surge of disappointment coursed through my veins as I watched him walk away. I wanted to call after him and talk more, but bit the inside of my cheek instead.
“How was the ride?” Jennifer asked as I approached. She was decked out in her favorite anime shirt while her hair was twisted up into a bun with a bright yellow pencil sticking out of her curls. I couldn’t remember who the characters on her shirt were anymore; she owned so many of them and they all started to look the same. Rachel stood by the vending machine outside the doors of the school, trying to decide on what kind of juice to buy.
“It was all right.” I shrugged, trying to keep the conversation light.
“I saw Micah get off the bus with you. Did you guys sit together?” I could see the curiosity in Rachel’s eyes and I didn’t want to feed into it.
“No, why would we?” I asked.
“Because of yesterday,” Jennifer exclaimed. “Come on, Charlie. That would have been the prime time to get to know him or at least talk to him! You can’t be one of those girls who just ignores a guy that clearly might be interested in—”
“It’s not a big deal,” I cut her off.
Rachel patiently pressed one of the buttons on the vending machine and waited as it released a bottle of apple juice. “Leave her alone, Jen.” Rachel reached down to pick up her beverage. “There’s no need to be brash.”
“This is Charlie’s chance, Rach,” Jen said.
“What’s Charlie’s chance?” My brother and David came up behind Jennifer. “What are you girls talking about?”
I rolled my eyes and tugged on Jen’s arm. “Nothing, Josh. Since when do you talk to me at school, anyway?”
“Oh, I’m not, trust me,” Josh chuckled. “David wanted to talk to Rachel.”
I glanced over at Rachel and then quickly back to David. Was he going to talk to her now? Rachel’s cheeks burned and she looked down. At least I knew enough to grab Jennifer’s arm and pull her back quickly. Rachel and David deserved their space. Josh shoved his hands in his pockets and winked at David as he trailed behind us.
“What in the world was that about?” Jennifer asked as she pushed my hand away. I shrugged, hoping she’d believe the lie I was about to tell. I wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but it certainly wasn’t my place to say anything to Jennifer.
“I’m not sure. We can ask Rachel later, in class,” I replied, doing my best to keep my voice clear from alarm. We wove through a crowd of freshmen to get to our lockers at the end of the first hall. I banged on the top compartment (all of us rigged the tops of our lockers so we didn’t have to fiddle with the actual combinations), and tugged out my English book. Jennifer groaned as she hauled three large books into her backpack.
“Ready for class?” Micah’s voice startled me from behind. I turned to see him standing there, hands in his jacket pockets. He smirked as he braced his elbow against one of the locker doors.
“Figured we could walk together…wherever it is you’re going.”
I could hear Jennifer snigger as she closed her locker beside me. “Go on without me, I have to run to the bathroom, anyway.”
She left a sting of betrayal as she turned and left me alone with Micah. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad...
“I have English with Mrs. Tenner my first period. Where are you headed?” I asked, raising my brow in curiosity.
“Just so happen to have the same exact English class, too,” Micah replied with a smile. “Want to walk with me?” he asked again, a little unsure.
After a moment, I looked at him and replied, “Sure, I guess,” and closed the door to my locker.
“Don’t sound so thrilled.” Micah laughed. “I’m not the dentist.”
I tried to grin at his lame joke. At least I’d give him that. We set off together to Mrs. Tenner’s English class. Everyone’s eyes were on us as we entered the room, though it was probably Samantha’s gaze that blazed the strongest. She shifted in her seat, a smirk on her mouth as she pushed a strand of hair off of her shoulder. I imagined I hated Samantha Walters just as much as anyone watching Mean Girls hated Regina George.
Finding an empty desk, I maneuvered my way through the aisle and took a seat. Withdrawing my English book, a notebook, and a pencil from my bag, I did my best to ignore the unwanted attention. In our small-town school, something as innocent as walking to class together was liable to spread like wildfire. Did you see Charlie walk in with Micah? Are they dating? I could hear it already.
It was easy to focus on Mrs. Tenner’s curly brown hair, and the way she neatly illustrated her fancy letters on the blackboard. Grazing the point of my pencil over my notebook paper, I tried to imitate the gentle curve of her writing.
“I’m assigning everyone into groups for the new reading material and project. In your groups….” Mrs. Tenner’s words snapped me back to reality and I quickly looked around, wishing Jennifer and Rachel were in my class. Groups. Micah glanced in my direction and I quickly looked away. No way. Absolutely not. It would only give Samantha more ammunition to make my life hell; to turn this whole crush-rumor-thing into something it wasn’t.
“Caroline Blake, Micah Jacobs.” Ugh! While this wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened to me, it sure wasn’t on my list of “The-Ten-Most-Amazing-Life-Changing-Experiences” either. Mrs. Tenner continued to separate other class members, randomly pairing everyone together. Feeling Samantha’s eyes on me, I tilted my chin in her direction. If her sneer could have been any wider, I would have started calling her the Joker.
“You may now change seats to sit with your partner, and I’ll reveal the topics for the project!” Mrs. Tenner smiled, turning with delight to the blackboard and gracefully writing William Shakespeare, Emily Dickinson, The Bronte sisters, and Mary Shelley.
Micah took his seat beside me as I pulled my gaze away from Samantha.
“I say we vote for Frankenstein. It’s a pretty epic movie.”
“We’d have to read the book, Micah,” I grumbled. If I was going to have to do a project with him, I wanted to at least pick something I’d enjoy.
“I get that. But I’m just saying, we could watch the movie, too. Maybe do comparisons. Haven’t you seen the Robert De Niro version of Frankenstein?”
I recalled seeing the film o
ne boring, rainy afternoon on TNT.
“Fine, if you want Mary Shelley, we can choose her.”
“Which author did you want, then? I’m not about to go around quoting Shakespeare,” Micah said.
“I wasn’t going to pick him anyway,” I replied curtly. Honestly, I had my eye on the Bronte sisters. I wanted to focus on Wuthering Heights and analyze the characterization of the troubled, love-scorned Heathcliff. I loved that novel. “I’d prefer the Bronte sisters.”
Micah wrinkled his nose. “Can we not? Let’s do something cool, please?”
The Bronte sisters were cool, and Heathcliff was even cooler. Much cooler than some manmade monster. Heathcliff was complex and dangerous, dashing and bold. Catherine Earnshaw and Heathcliff’s love was complicated and one of my favorite go-back-to romances.
Mrs. Tenner circumnavigated the room with a small notebook, writing down each group’s chosen author and assigning their project.
“Mary Shelley,” Micah blurted as Mrs. Tenner approached us. I glared at him, but she smiled at the two of us.
“Great! Everyone else has been selecting the others. Mary Shelley is a great author to research.” She handed me a sheet with a bunch of different assignments to pick from. “I expect to see great things from the pair of you.” She turned to the next group.
I studied the sheet. The assignment options ranged from book reports, to author biographies, to writing a screenplay and creating a student film about the book. I figured Micah would be interested in the easiest project on the list, but asked him just to be sure.
“Which one do you want to do?” I asked as I handed him the form. After a moment of looking up and down the paper, his eyes lit up at the last option.
“Oh, heck yes! A Frankenstein movie! We have to do that.”
“Do you even know how to make a movie?” I began to worry I’d have to do everything for this project alone.
“No, but it would be fun to learn how, right? Maybe your brother could help.”
“My brother can throw a football, that’s about it,” I retorted.
“Well, we can learn how to do all of this. Come on, Charlie, live a little.”
“You’ve told me that before. If you haven’t noticed already, I am living. I’m breathing. I’m functioning.”
“Barely.” He smirked. “Come on. This’ll be fun. You could even be Mary Shelley, or the girl that gets her guts ripped out by the monster.”
“Sounds delightful,” I replied, circling the project option.
“If you’re lucky, we could even write a kiss between you and me in the screenplay.”
I glared at him. Micah winked as he brushed a strand of his dark brown hair from his eyes. He seemed to be pleased that he had gotten his first choice in author, book, and project. I, on the other hand, was not so thrilled.
The bell rang, relieving me. I gathered up my things and shoved them into my book bag.
“Gravity”
Sara Bareilles
“SOUNDS LIKE YOU HAD AN interesting English class,” Rachel remarked. Our math teacher had just handed out a worksheet. Rachel was always my math partner, not just because she knew the answers, but because she showed me how to solve the problems.
“It shouldn’t be bad, though. From what you’re telling me, he seems nice.”
“I hope one of his qualities is hard-working rather than just nice.” I erased a series of numbers I had written in the corner of the paper. I had no idea how to do these equations with the new formula Mr. Harvey had just written on the board. Lost, I looked to Rachel, hoping she’d explain it better.
“What did David talk to you about?” I blurted.
“He just wanted to talk more about our youth group idea. We’ve been having these really cool bible lessons and we’ve been thinking about leading one together.”
“Oh, wow!” I said, excited. “That sounds cool.”
“Yeah, David and I might even plan an outing for it. We’d go to the lake, sit down and have devotionals, and go swimming. It might be a way to bring more of our classmates to God.”
These were the only times when I began to feel uncomfortable with Rachel. God and I…we had our own kind of relationship. I guess I went to Him when I felt like I needed something, and He came to me when I needed to do something differently in my life. I didn’t really pray, but then again, He had easy access to my mind, right?
“So, he didn’t ask you anything else?” I asked cautiously. Rachel glanced at me, a wrinkle in her brow as though she knew I was onto something.
“Not that I can recall. Why?” She copied a few of the formulas into her notebook.
“No reason. Just wondered.”
“I’d hold back from telling Jennifer about what happened in English. At least for a bit. She seems really intent on you and Micah hooking up,” Rachel joked.
“I think she just wants one of us to finally land a boyfriend.” Rachel and I laughed together.
“You’re probably right.” She worked on a math problem for minute, then glanced back up at me. “So, what are you going to do? You know, about Micah and stuff.”
“Just work on the project with him until it’s finished. We have two months to write a screenplay, get it approved, and then film it. Once it’s done, my interactions with him will be minimal.”
“Speaking of which, how did your bus ride go?” Rachel gave a small smile.
“He confronted me about my ‘crush’ yesterday. And then he told me to text him.”
“Did you?” Her smile grew wider.
“I…did.”
“And? What happened?”
“Nothing really. Just talked. I don’t know. He’s a flirt. I hate that he knows…I mean, thinks he knows…that I like him. Almost like it’s a power he has over me.”
“He doesn’t have any power over you, Charlie, unless you allow him to. Trust me. ”
“Yeah, I know,” I replied softly.
“I think it’ll be fun,” Rachel assured me. “Wait and see. You might surprise yourself!”
“I’m not looking forward to being the woman who dies a bloody death.” I wasn’t thrilled about blood, even if it was fake. Plus, Helena Bonham Carter’s character died on the night of her wedding. Would our project entail a horrific wedding night for me to endure as well? (Rated PG, of course.) What if Micah found out I’d never been kissed before?
I decided that, if I had any say in the screenplay, there would be no kissing. Period.
MICAH WAS ALREADY ON THE bus by the time I wove through the students in the front lobby.
“Don’t worry, I won’t bite,” Micah greeted me, motioning for me to take the seat next to him again.
A guy behind us snickered, “At least, not in a way you won’t enjoy.”
Micah turned in his seat, glaring at him.
I was still trying to decide whether I should sit next to him, or claim an open seat for myself. I decided to go with it. I tugged my backpack up to sit on my knees, trying to look distracted by an invisible stain on the strap.
“I went to the library during my free period,” Micah said, pulling a paperback from his bag. “I thought reading Frankenstein might help us in the screenwriting process.”
You think? “Oh! Great,” I managed. Nothing like reading Frankenstein to bring two people closer together.
He offered me the book. “I already have a copy at home,” he said. “I thought I’d pick it up for you. Consider it a peace offering.”
“Frankenstein as a peace offering?” I took the book and leafed through the pages. I wasn’t into horror films, let alone horror books. You know how Jekyll and Hyde is a Broadway show? Yeah, never bothered listening or looking into it, simply because I knew it was based on a horror story.
“Do you want to meet up tonight and start planning?” Micah asked. “Maybe we can grab something to
eat, too.”
I slipped the book into my backpack. “Actually, I have a few things I need to do. I can’t meet up tonight.”
“Aw, really? Not even for an hour or so?” He lifted his arm up onto the back of the seat. I could tell Micah was trying to use his charm card, and soften me up. His brown eyes were a smooth, liquefied brown, while the corners of his mouth were tilted upward in a small smile. His jaw was chiseled, and his bangs fell over his forehead—just so. I found myself holding my breath as I quickly jerked my stare away. I should have mentally prepared myself for his version of “the smolder.” If I had ogled him any longer, it might have worked. Might being the key word.
“Can’t even tempt you for a bit of your time?”
“Not tonight.” I trained my eyes on the exit light above the bus door.
“All right, suit yourself.” Micah lowered his arm back to his side while he let out a sigh. “I’ll come up with some ideas tonight and have them for you tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
The bus driver turned onto my street. I jumped up from my seat, already to the front by the time the bus came to a stop.
“PLEASE, JOSH. PLEASE,” I WHINED as I followed Josh around the kitchen. David sat at the dining table, working on his math homework.
“Please! Let me catch a ride with you. I can’t stand riding that bus anymore.”
“Why don’t you get your driver’s license?” Josh retorted. “And then save up some money and buy yourself a used car.”
“Be realistic, Josh! I promise you won’t even notice I’m there.” I pressed my hands down onto the counter as I watched him fumble around inside the fridge. Mom always complained that he ate too much after school, so she’d started hiding the Tastykakes away. Little did Josh know, I knew where all of it was.