Everything, Good And Bad

"I sat in Mrs. Indy's office, our homeroom teacher, feeling pretty lousy from the hours worth of words crashing towards me. She went on and on about how I'd been acting up in class. I slouched in my chair, hands squeezing my knees, staring at the floor like it owed me money. Trouble had a habit of tracking me down lately, even though I'd hoped things would get better in high school.

Her words droned in my ears, and I kinda zoned in and out, thinking about who knows what.

Finally, after she seemed to be out of words to throw at me anymore, Ms. Indy let me leave. I figured I was in for another lecture when I got home, probably from my mom. So I moped down the empty school hallways, wondering what awaited me.

Then, from far away, a melody started playing, sweet and kind of sad. It hooked into my ears and made me forget my silent rebellion. I perked up and couldn't help but follow that enchanting tune. It was like the music was calling to me, promising something better than the usual world of scolding and lectures.

I pushed the door to the music room and walked in. There she was, Adica, the new girl who'd joined our class a few days back. Her eyes were halfway closed, completely lost in the music she was making. They shone with a mix of deep concentration and passion, and I couldn't help but be drawn in by the magic of the moment. Her fingers glided through, her entire body leaning in as she presses on the keys, her lips were slightly apart, as if they were sharing the hidden secrets of the melody she was playing.

As her fingers danced on the piano keys, her slender figure seemed to blend with the instrument, like they were one and the same. The music flowed through her, and she turned into a living part of its beauty. At that moment, I couldn't help but be captivated by her grace. She wasn't just playing the piano; she was becoming one with the music, and it was a sight to see.

I felt like a nobody, a million miles away from where she was shining so brightly.

Maybe it was the first time ever that I felt envious of someone.

"Are you Adica?" I asked, my voice low, like I didn't want to shatter the delicate magic of that moment.

But she didn't answer. Instead, she suddenly stopped playing, her hands dropping to her sides. She stared at the piano keys, like she'd vanished into some far-off world. Before I could say anything else, though, she darted out of the room before I could even blink.

In the days that followed, I kept finding myself back in the music room. Adica would play that same melody every time, and whenever I called out to her, she'd bolt out of there like a spooked deer. But I really wanted to talk to her, hear more of her music, and maybe, just maybe, become friends too.

But I couldn't help wondering if it was even possible. Could someone like me really be friends with her? Was she running away because she was scared of me? Maybe she'd heard all those rumors about me...

But today, something in me changed. As she made her usual dash for the door, I moved fast, blocking her escape route. She turned to me, her eyes wide with fear, like I'd trapped her in a cage.

Taking a chance seemed like the right thing to do. Life sometimes has a way of surprising us, and who knows, things might just turn out for the better if she could see the real me, not just the twisted picture painted by idle gossip.

"Adica," I started, my words soft and calming, "I don't get why you always run off like this. Can we chat?"

She didn't say anything, her eyes still wary, but at least she wasn't darting for the door.

"I just wanted to tell you that your piano playing is incredible. I've never heard anyone play like that."

Adica's shoulders stiffened, and she shook her head, her hair falling over her face. "It's still not enough."

"Not enough? But Adica, you're amazing. I really mean it."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Absolutely. Your talent is like a special gift, Adica. It's something that's all yours."

"But you might not understand."

"I'm not pretending to be an expert on the piano." I know my words don't matter. It's the same when you look upto someone who's leagues away from you. The brightness isn't something for you to measure. "But to me, you're truly amazing." But that doesn't mean the light fades away. 

"But that doesn't mean everyone will see it the same way—"

"Why do you have to try and impress everyone, though? Look, I'm genuinely impressed. Your parents must be really proud of you too."

She gave a bitter smile. "My parents? Proud? How is that even possible? Maybe you're right, but that was a long time ago... Lately, I've lost every competition I've entered. My parents are never impressed."

"But it still doesn't make you any less amazing. You've got talent. Your music touched me. That's something to be proud of."

Adica's eyes grew darker, and her voice turned sharp. "You think you can get me, huh? You think you can just stroll in here and call my playing 'amazing' when you don't know anything about me? You don't know the pain I'm carrying."

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I was left stunned, realizing how shallow my words had been. Adica's struggles and her hurt were hidden, and I'd foolishly believed that a few nice words could fix what I couldn't even see. A somber cloud hung over us.

"I...I'm sorry," I stammered, my voice barely audible. I knew I needed to come up with something fast, something that wouldn't push her away.

But before I could continue, Adica rushed past me and bolted from the music room. I turned to chase after her. I wasn't done talking to her. There was so much I needed to say, so much I needed to learn about her.

I got lucky, though, because she wasn't too fast on her feet. Just a floor below, on the staircase, I caught up to her, my hands trembling as I placed them on her shoulders. The words, held inside for far too long, poured out like a rushing river.

"Adica," I started, my voice breaking, "I'm terrible at school, you know! I really struggle with it! My parents think I'm a failure! They're always disappointed in me! Everyone in the neighborhood talks about me hanging out with troublemakers, like they know everything about me! Even the kids in our class! My classmates tease me because I'm so tall, and my teachers blame me for every little commotion I get caught up in, like they know anything about me!"

Don't hate me. Yeah... that's what I wanted to scream. Tell me... that everything's fine. That everything's okay! I was always so ashamed. I was ashamed of my weakness. But...I want you to say it. Just once...even if it's a lie. I know it will give me the courage...to try and become strong. With each word, it felt like a heavy weight lifting off my chest. I was shedding layers of armor I'd carried for way too long. The emotions I'd buried deep inside were finally finding their voice, and it was both terrifying and freeing.

I stopped, my breath coming out in heavy, ragged gasps, tears streaming down my face as I gazed into Adica's eyes, my heart laid bare before her. "Your turn now!"

"Uh...um... what do you mean?" Adica blinked, surprised by my sudden emotional outpour.

She hesitated for a moment before she began to speak. Her words flowed like a river, carrying the pain and longing she had kept inside.

"I... I... I want my parents to be proud of me!" And she began, "not just for my grades but for the effort I put into everything! I want others to see how I feel, not label me as a nerd! I want to make friends, share meals with them, and play the piano for them! I want them to know how I feel too! How I really feel!"

She spoke with a trembling voice, and as she finished, her shoulders drooped as if bearing the weight of her own confessions. We both stood in silence, the staircase around us seemingly quiet, the bond of our shared secrets growing stronger.

I gave her a gentle shake, a small smile forming at the corners of my lips. "So, Adica, do you want to be my friend?"

She pondered my question, her gaze seemingly lost in the waning daylight, as though the answer lay hidden among its fading hues. My heart quickened, a blend of eager anticipation and hope coursing through my veins.

Finally, her eyes met mine, and a faint, unsure smile greeted her lips. "Yes," she whispered softly. "I'd really like that."

A rush of happiness surged through me, my laughter bubbled up like a spring in full bloom. It was a laugh filled with relief, the knowledge that I wasn't alone in my struggles anymore. I gave Adica's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "One day," I said, "play the piano for me, okay?"

Adica's smile grew wider, and for the first time, I saw a glimmer of hope in her eyes. She replied, "I promise, I will."