Falling (Bits and Pieces, Book 1)

by Shirley Miranda

  * * *

  I purposely walked in as close to the bell ringing as possible for choir class. I didn’t know how much Mrs. Marshall had seen or realized from my mom’s reaction last night and I wasn’t going to give her the opportunity to bring it up. When we started singing, I tried to put my mom out of my mind. But I could hear her, yelling at me, being mad at me. I was doing what I said I wouldn’t do—let her ruin this for me. But it was all still so raw, that I couldn’t help it. I tried to get lost in the music and just sing. But I knew I wasn’t singing my best. And that drove me crazy. I was sending myself down this downward spiral. I knew I was, but I felt like I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I hated this feeling.

  Mrs. Marshall had to notice the difference in my singing too. I could tell she wanted to say something to me, normally I was open to constructive criticism but I couldn’t bear to take the feedback at the moment. So, I rushed out of class once we were dismissed, purposely avoiding her. I heard her call my name as I bolted out the door, but I didn’t look back and pretended not to hear her.

  When I saw Patrick next in English class, he was watching me closely. Mr. Ludlow let us pick our partners to work with on the day’s assignment. So, Patrick came over and sat next to me. I stayed focused on the assignment and didn’t pay attention to much else. We didn’t have, what had become, our usual banter and chatting during the work. I just didn’t have it in me. I think that made Patrick worry more.

  When it was time for lunch, I slowly got my stuff together. I knew that Patrick wasn’t going to let me leave by myself. He walked out with me to lunch and didn’t say a word. I wasn’t in the mood to hang out with the crew. I didn’t want be around others with expectations of carrying on a conversation. I started to head to my tree.

  He stayed right by my side. “You don’t want to sit with the crew?”

  I shook my head and sat down against my tree. “Not right now.”

  “Do you mind if I stay?” He politely asked, but I could tell that his mind was racing of what to do if I said no. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. We could just sit here.”

  “No. Go ahead sit down.”

  I put my head on my knees. We sat there quiet for a few minutes. He broke the silence, “So, don’t forget there’s a scrimmage game today after school.”

  I looked at him and blinked.

  “What? I said you didn’t have to talk. I didn’t say I wouldn’t.” He acted innocent, but he knew what he was doing. He was trying to give me something else to think about, to distract me.

  “Thanks for the reminder.” I did remember he had a game. Actually, I was looking forward to it. I knew it would help me escape for a little while. And maybe that would knock me out of my downward spiral.

  I didn’t want to slide ­anymore. I knew Patrick couldn’t help with my mom. But his words echoed in my head ‘Remember, you’re not alone.’ I wasn’t. I took a deep breath and sighed. That caught his attention because out of the corner of my eye, I could see him turn to look at me.

  I started picking at the grass underneath me. “My folks found out about the solo. We ran into Mrs. Marshall at the store. She told my mom.”

  He put his hand on my back. “What did she say?”

  “Mrs. Marshall? Something like… ‘You should be proud…’” I whispered.

  “Well, that’s good. Right? What did your mom say?”

  “Huh. She ripped me a new one.” I stopped picking at the grass. I turned to look at him and shrugged. “So, that’s it. That’s what’s been bugging me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I simply shrugged my shoulders again. There wasn’t anything else I could say or do. We just sat there until the bell rang.

  I was able to focus a little better in math. Or at least, I welcomed the idea of something that would require my concentration. Math usually was a good distraction.

  When the bell rang, Patrick felt the need to remind me again about his game this afternoon. It brought back memories of the first game I went to and his frequent, gentle pestering of me to go attend the game.

  History class wasn’t nearly as concentration consuming as math. It always passed much more slowly to me. It wasn’t because it was my last class of the day, I know it would feel the same no matter what period it was. History just wasn’t my subject. I got good grades, it just wasn’t interesting to me. I was able to take notes, listen to the lecture, dwell on last night and clock watch all at the same time.

  There was only five minutes left before the school day was officially over when Mrs. Marshall walked in. What the heck would she be doing in here? She walked over to Mr. Galang and quietly spoke to him. He nodded and pointed at me. Great, and here I thought I had successfully avoided her. I should have known better.

  She motioned me to come with her. I picked up my stuff and followed her out the door.

  “Sorry to bother you in Mr. Galang’s class. You left so quickly from class today.” We walked to her room.

  “That’s okay.” I wanted to try to shift the topic. I didn’t want her to ask why I left so suddenly and pretended not to hear her. “So, is sixth period your prep?”

  “Yes, it is. It gives me a chance to get the auditorium ready for concerts or rehearsal, if needed. So, I like it. It’s perfect for me.”

  “That’s good. I guess, you wouldn’t be one of those teachers that would leave early just ‘cause you didn’t have a last class.”

  “Nope. They don’t have to worry about that from me.” She laughed.

  We got to her classroom and she unlocked the door. She went to her desk and handed me sheet music.

  “This is what I wanted to give you earlier. Take a look at it. I’d like to include this piece in the concert.” She told me. I guess she didn’t want to talk about last night. Good.

  I looked over the music. I knew the song and had even thought about using it for my audition piece. Well, it was one of my backup songs, but I hadn’t sung it in a while.

  “I’ve been wanting to include the song in a concert for a while, but was waiting for a student whose voice could handle it. I think you can.” She gave me such a nice compliment, but I didn’t know how to respond.

  “Thanks. That’s a nice thought, but I don’t know…” Part of me was still torn about what to do—would I quit the solo or ignore my parents and do it anyway? Agreeing to do the song would mean I wasn’t giving it up.

  “Why don’t you just try it? See how it feels.” She suggested and started to play the song on the piano.

  The music filled the empty choir room. It was like it echoed off the walls, making it sound like a concert hall. I followed along with the sheet music and started singing. It didn’t feel good.

  At the end of the song, she asked, “Are you okay? It’s like something is holding you back. Do you know the song?”

  “Yeah, I know it.” Please don’t ask what is holding me back.

  “So don’t read the words. Just feel them and sing. I know you can do it. You did it at the audition, and every day in class. That was one of the things that set you apart from the others.”

  That was nice to know. It wasn’t just dumb luck that I got the part.

  “It was nice to see your mom again last night.” She politely commented. “She didn’t know about you getting the solo, did she?”

  I felt like a little kid getting caught stealing a cookie. I stared at the floor and my voice was suddenly a whisper, “No. She didn’t.”

  “Why not? You’re great.” Her smile was warm.

  I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s not really something they’re into.”

  “Your mom seemed excited to tell your dad.” She had no idea what I was going through. My mom was good at not letting strangers know what she was really thinking, when she wanted to.

  “Yeah, we rushed right home and she told him.” I stated devoid of emotion. I felt myself disconnecting from everything again to survive. I think from that she started to get the idea that she stirred u
p trouble for me. I turned around and was about to walk away.

  “Liz, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.” She got up from the piano and walked up to me. “I can see how much you enjoy singing. How about this… Forget about today, yesterday, last week. Just focus on the song, just sing. Do you want to try it again?”

  I nodded and we walked back to the piano. I tried to clear my mind of everything else. I didn’t want to let her or the choir down. She had faith in me and I didn’t want to lose that. I had already made a commitment and decided I had to stick to it. No matter what.

  I tried the song again. This time I didn’t look at the sheet music. I closed my eyes and pretended I was home, in my room trying to escape the world through singing. When it was over, I opened my eyes and looked at Mrs. Marshall.

  “Much better. Much, much better.” She smiled. “What do you think? Do you want to do the song? I think it would showcase your voice beautifully.”

  “Sure.” It felt good to make a decision and to know that at least one adult thought it was a good one.

  She had me practice a few more times, each time giving something else to think about. It was nice to get feedback that wasn’t in front of others. It made me feel less insecure about it all.

  Before I knew it, an hour had passed. I looked at the clock and realized that I was missing the game. “Thank you, Mrs. Marshall, for the song and the help. But, I’m supposed to be somewhere right now. I’ll practice the song.”

  I ran over to the gym as fast as I could. Patrick was probably thinking that I forgot or worse. I never wanted him to feel bad and even if he just thought I forgot, I’d feel horrible. It wasn’t that I forgot exactly. I just kind of got side-tracked by a teacher. I’d definitely need to talk to him after the game and apologize.

  When I entered the gym, it was its usual warm and humid self. What was unusual was that Patrick wasn’t on the floor. He was sitting on the bench and he didn’t look good. His head was down and he had a towel over his head. His hands were balled up in fists.

  I quickly made my way to Emily and Cassie and sat down. “Sorry I’m late. What’s going on?”

  Emily filled me in. “Hey, Liz. Patrick’s having a bad game. He’s missed some easy shots, made some bad passes. Coach pulled him out after the first quarter.”

  Cassie added, “Yeah. It’s like his head isn’t in the game.”

  Emily leaned in and whispered in my ear. “I think he was worried about you. He kept looking at us, expecting you to be here.”

  I felt horrible. “Aww, man. I didn’t mean to drag him down with me. How the heck do I let him know I’m okay without the coach knowing? I don’t want him to get in any more trouble. But he needs to stop worrying.”

  Emily smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get the message to him.”

  Somehow, that made me worry a little.

  She glanced at me and saw my anxiety. “Look, I know you were having a bad day. And I couldn’t do anything to help you. Only Patrick could. It’s okay. I totally understand. But this… I can help with. So let me. Besides, it’s no big deal. Only Bobby will know.”

  The game played on. Apparently, I needed to work on my powers of mental telepathy because Patrick never took the towel off his head or looked in our direction. Bobby jumped up and grabbed a defensive rebound.

  When he came down with the ball, Emily screamed, “Blueberry sprinkle toes!”

  What the heck?!

  Bobby passed the ball to Jason, who dribbled up the court. Bobby quickly glanced at Emily and shot her a smile. She hugged me and he nodded. He ran down the court while Jason called a play. It didn’t look like they were getting the look at the basket that they wanted because the coach was screaming for a time-out. The whistle blew to acknowledge the time-out.

  I watched the team walk from the court to the bench. Patrick got up from the bench and stood in his usual spot in the huddle, next to Bobby. He pulled his right foot behind him and stretched his leg. He quickly did the same with his left side. He then grabbed the towel on his head and draped it around his neck. He gripped the towel with both hands. It was like he had a nervous energy consuming him. Bobby elbowed him in the side and nodded his head in our direction.

  Patrick looked over and saw Emily hugging me. I waved, sheepishly smiled and mouthed, “Hi.”

  He closed his eyes and exhaled sharply. He turned his attention back to the huddle.

  “Message delivered.” Emily nudged me in the side.

  “Thanks.” I gave her a little hug. Leave it to Emily to deliver messages in the weirdest way.

  “Anytime.” She grinned.

  As the team returned to the court, Patrick said something to the coach. He sat back down on the bench and watched the game intently. A few minutes later, at the next dead ball, Coach put Patrick back in the game. He seemed to have his head back in the game, because he was playing like the Patrick I knew.

  As usual, we waited for the guys to change before heading to the parking lot. We walked to our cars together. We got to my car first. The others went ahead to Bobby and Jason’s car, while Patrick hung back with me at mine.

  “I’m so sorry I was late. I didn’t mean to be.” I was repentant.

  “It’s okay. I’m just really glad that you’re okay.” He sighed with relief. “But, what happened?”

  “I…” I was unexpectedly interrupted.

  “Hi, Paddy!” Becca wrapped her arms around his neck and her mouth was suctioned onto his.

  After five long uncomfortable seconds, I cleared my throat. “Hi, Becca.”

  She turned, saw me and smiled. “Oh, Liz, sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

  Yeah, right. I’m only standing right in front of Patrick.

  “Becks, we were talking.”

  “Oh, don’t let me interrupt. Go ahead and finish.” She turned to face me, stood right in front of Patrick and leaned back into him.

  I shifted my weight from one leg to the other. There was no way I was telling Patrick what happened with her there, she’d probably go off on me again. I bit the inside of my cheek.

  Patrick gave Becca’s arm a little squeeze. “Can you please give us a few minutes?”

  “Sure. We have a little time.” Becca didn’t move. “I told my friends that we would meet them at the mall.”

  “Alone.” He gently told her.

  She rolled her eyes at me before turning to face him. Her voice sounded too sweet to me. “No problem. Looks like Liz is having a bad day, take your time. Fix your stray. I’ll get a ride with Grace. I’ll meet you at the food court.”

  He smiled at her. “Thanks for understanding, Becks. I’ll be there in a few.”

  He hugged her and kissed her forehead. She turned back at me and glared, but her tone was sugary. “Hope you feel better soon.”

  She left. Patrick waited until she was out of ear shot. “Sorry about that. You were going to say something before Becca came over?”

  “Yeah. Uh…” I tried to remember exactly what I was going to say before I was distracted by Becca. I looked at him holding his gym bag and remembered what Emily told me. I was contrite. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

  “I know you didn’t mean to, but I do. That’s what friends do when they know a friend is in trouble. When I didn’t see you there with Emily and Cassie, at first, I thought you were just running a little late. But that wasn’t like you. The longer you were gone, the more I worried. When I got benched…” His voice trailed off.

  I felt awful. My heart plunged into my stomach. I hung my head down in shame. “I’m horrible.”

  “Hey, no.” He lifted my chin up and shook his head. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel worse.”

  “Then…” I whispered.

  “Why?” He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. I nodded. “To let you know that you’re not the only one whose imagination can run wild, to sometimes jump to the worst.”

  There was something a little reassuring about th
at. “It’s nice to know I’m not the only one. Wait. Not that that’s what I wanted you to do or… I didn’t want you to think that…”

  Open mouth. Insert foot. I felt like I was making things worse.

  He chuckled, “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I know what you meant.”

  “Thanks.” I did believe he knew what I meant. “I was going to go to the gym right after class, but Mrs. Marshall pulled me out near the end of sixth period.”

  His brow scrunched up. “What happened?”

  I filled him in on everything and showed him the sheet music. He smiled, “Yeah, I can totally hear you singing this song. So, you happy that you made a decision?”

  “I don’t know if happy is the right word for it. But at least I’m not tearing myself apart trying to decide what to do.”

  “What about your parents?”

  There was the big question I had been asking myself. “I don’t know. I haven’t exactly thought it all through. But I’m not really doing anything bad…am I?”

  “No,” he confirmed. “Unless you’re doing this to just piss off your parents.”

  “Uh. No.” My eyes widened and I shook my head. “I don’t have it in me to rebel just to rebel. That’s not me.”

  “I know. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting to do something that makes you happy, especially when it doesn’t hurt anyone. You’re good at it. You deserve the solo and to be happy.”

  “Thanks. I guess I’ll just have to keep doing what I’ve been doing. Ignore my folks when it comes to things like this and not tell them anything. They already know I got the part and yelled at me for it, so at this point, there’s not much else. It’s not like I’d ask them to come and even if I did, they wouldn’t.”

  He looked surprised. “They wouldn’t? I mean, I know they don’t agree with you, but you really think they wouldn’t come to the concert…even just to support you?”

  I didn’t even have to think about it. “No. That’s not…them. They stick with their decisions. If they disagree, they will always disagree, nothing else matters or will change their mind.”

  He really couldn’t understand. He looked at me with such sadness in his eyes. “Liz…”

  “Don’t. I don’t want your pity. I’m just glad you don’t know what it’s like. Anyway, I’m used to it.” I looked away from him. I couldn’t handle the look on his face.

  “You shouldn’t have to. And…” He moved to stand where I couldn’t avoid looking at him. “I don’t buy that you have. Anyway, it explains a lot.”

  “Yeah? Well…” I guess it did, but I didn’t really want to admit it. I cleared my throat. “Aren’t you supposed to meet Becca?”

  “You’re changing the subject.” He smirked.

  I responded sarcastically. “I always knew you were a smart guy.”

  “Well, I’ll be there to support you. Whenever, wherever. And so will the crew. You don’t have to be alone.”

  “Thanks.” I sighed. It was really good to hear. It was reassuring to know that at least I’d have some friendly faces in the audience. It was one thing to not know anyone in the audience when I was part of the choir. I wasn’t in the spotlight and blended in with everyone, so I didn’t feel all that bad not having anyone there for me. It did hurt a little, but I could handle it. Having someone there for me…was a foreign concept. But one I wanted to get used to. “You really should go. Becca’s waiting.”

  “Seriously, Liz. We’re all here for you.” He looked at his watch. “Yeah, I should get going. You’ll be okay?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” I tried to reassure him with a little smile.

  He gave me a hug. “I think we’ve already established that I do worry. Hey, I’ll call you later. Okay?”

  “Okay. Go already!” I pushed him away from my car. He waved and jogged over to his car.