Hey guys! I just got in from clinicals. I took care of a patient that reminded me a lot of Mitch, so it gave me some motivation, and tomorrow is my free day so I can stay up late and get this submitted for you guys. I had planned on writing a chapter sooner, but school took over my life, as usual. I'm really thankful for the dedicated readers I have, I live for you guys emails with your thoughts and questions about the story.
Again, if you're a minor, go do something that minors do now a days. When I was a minor, it was Pokemon and MySpace. So do whatever it is youngins' do now, according to my roommate, its crack and cocaine. If you are doing Devil's Dandruff, I can tell you, dealing with your overdosed self in the hospital is not fun. So go watch cartoons.
I love the emails you guys send. I always end up having the most random conversations, I love it. Send all questions, comments, thoughts, perceptions, and concerns to Tylersaysgo@yahoo.com The amount of emails concerning peanut butter has drastically declined, if you're wondering!
-J
Weeks passed, and I began to see Mitchell less and less. We were now going into the middle of October, and it had been 6 days since we had seen each other outside of school. He spent all his time with the girl he had told me about. I came to learn her name was Morgan, and she was a grade above us. I wish I could tell you that she was hideously unattractive, but she wasn't. She was actually really beautiful. I wish I could tell you that she was a mean girl, but she wasn't. She was one of the nicest people I've met in high school. I wish I could tell you that I didn't like her, but I did. I had every reason to be worried, she was perfect, and Mitchell talked about her all the time. First, it was just a few words here or there when we hung out, but now it's like I can't get a word in edgewise because he is always going on about how awesome of a person she was. I quickly learned to tune him out, not because I didn't want to listen, but for my hearts sake.
Every time he brought her up, it was a reminder of how I will always come in second place when it really mattered. I will never be that person he gushes about. I began to slip into a more distant state, everyone noticed, except Mitchell. On this particular Friday morning, I was dressed and ready for school and in the kitchen mentally debating on why anyone would put a raisin in a bagel, when my mother speaks up,
"So, since I am a self-proclaimed awesome mother, I should know why you have been like a hermit these past few weeks," she said lightly. I could tell she was concerned, but she wouldn't be my mother if she didn't have a touch of humor somewhere in there.
"I'm fine mom, and I am not a hermit, just down about school" I said dancing around her question.
"Oh really? So the distressed Beethoven and the sad Tchaikovsky on the Piano you have been playing nonstop are because you got a bad grade," she asked in her infinite wisdom.
"Really mom it's just school," I say trying to persuade her.
"Yes, teenagers who are having trouble at school listen to The Ballad of Romeo and Juliet in their rooms at night. I don't buy it. Tell me, or I will get your father in here and we both know you don't want his interrogation at 7 A.M." She had a point. My father would be much worse to deal with. Instead of using problem solving analysis like my dear mother, he would just nag me incessantly until I couldn't take it any longer.
"Okay okay, It's just I haven't seen Mitch as much lately, and it's kinda got me down," I say as vague as possible.
"Ah, so that's why my refrigerator still has groceries in it," she said chuckling. I laughed lightly, not wanting to get into this discussion with my mother.
"So you miss him. Have you told him," she asked.
I just shot her an irritated look, and turned my back to her to finish preparing my bagel.
"Alright well you could always tell him you love him," she said. I dropped the knife I was using to spread cream cheese on my bagel with. I quickly recovered, and chuckled nervously.
"Yeah mom, and then I'll ask dad to get up before noon. Maybe I'll write George bush a letter asking him not to be an idiot while I'm at it," I say sarcastically, trying to keep the fear out of my voice and keep it from cracking. Why did she use that choice of words? I chewed the inside of my lip desperately hoping she would just drop the subject. I wasn't feeling a coming out story at 7:30 am on a Monday morning.
"You couldn't write anything to make that man less of an idiot," she says stirring her coffee. There was an awkward silence between us before she said,
"I think you should let him know, but, after all, all the good musicians are tortured souls in some way," then she sauntered off down the hall toward her bedroom. I didn't feel like dealing with her cryptic message, I am too busy feeling sorry for myself and choosing which kind of jelly to use for my mediocre bagel.
I headed out the door for school at 7:45 am, I stopped going to Mitch's house in the morning because he now gets up at the crack of dawn to make sure he is on time to get to Morgan's house and walk with her to school. I admit, the first few days I was completely jealous, but now it has died down into a dull bitterness. I was slowly becoming consumed by envy, and I couldn't stop myself. I could feel myself becoming resentful, and it was becoming evident in my playing. Instead of my smooth light signature style, it was developing into a more forte, hard, and staccato style. I arrived at school, and walk into the student commons where the masses of jocks, who will more than likely peak after high school, are gathered. I spot Mitch and Morgan in a group with Mitch's friends, along with Chris, Lucas, and Andrew. They were standing directly in my path to 1st period. I mentally decided that my best course of action was keep my head down and walk past and blend in with the mass of students. I was almost in the clear, when I hear,
"Hey James, over here man," It was Andrew. I stopped abruptly, mentally cursed myself, and slowly turned around and walked over.
"Dang man, you were in a hurry. Why were you rushing off, we haven't seen you in days," Andrew said with a hint of worry in his voice.
"Oh, I've just been around, school work mostly," I respond while scratching the back of my neck. Mitch turned his head sharply and was staring at me, but I wouldn't meet his gaze. The group returned to their prior conversation and I excused myself and walked to 1st period. Orchestra is the only class where I can escape, I am there in the physical sense, but my subconscious emotions dictate my performance. Our class was working on a lovely elegant Waltz; unfortunately, my emotions were far from elegance and grace. Mrs. Freeman hounded me all period to play softer and sweeter, but I barely even comprehended a word she said, I had more important things plaguing my thoughts than a crescendo at measure 78. I was trying to be as calm as possible when I was around Mitch, usually when it was just him, I was fine, and I could hold myself together. However, when he brought her over to our lunch table, I couldn't take it anymore, I started skipping lunch and sitting in the library stacks, usually reading an Emily Bronte novel. As I was in the stacks, reading Wuthering Heights, I glance up when I hear footsteps approaching me, and I see Andrew headed over in my direction. I sighed and rubbed my eyes in frustration, already knowing what he was going to talk about.
"Hey man," he said sitting down beside me.
"Hey," I respond sitting up and marking my page in the book.
"How have you been, I've been worried about you," he asked.
"I'm okay, all things considered," I say while reaching for my backpack to place my novel back in.
"I know it's rough on you, seeing them together, but you have to keep it together. I know you probably don't want him getting suspicious, but I'll be the first to tell you, anyone who has a set of eyes can see what's going on with you. It's only a matter of time before he figures out something is upsetting you," Andrew says while reaching out to pat my knee before standing up and leaving the stacks. I suppose he was right, I have been trying to avoid him, but not because I didn't want to see him, but because I couldn't stand seeing him look at her with those eyes that set my soul on fire. Those eyes that will never look at me that way. I haven't been overtly obvious I thought, I had texted him back when he texted, and when he asked where I was, I lied under the premises of letting him spend more time with Morgan. I decided I would be more careful, and then shoved those thoughts to the back of my mind.
School was drew on incessantly, I caught myself nodding off twice in AP Russian Literature, I would have been full blown comatose if Andrew hadn't elbowed me. The final bell rang, but I decided I didn't want to head home right away. I wanted to get some practicing in, because our piano at home needs to be tuned. I head down to the music room, and ask Mrs. Freeman if it okay to stay after and work on my waltz for the class, she agreed quickly, though I had no intention of playing that elementary piece. She left and briskly said to make sure I lock up and was gone. I climbed up the risers to the piano in the back of the room. I run my hands across the keys and close my eyes, playing whatever the first thing that comes to my head. I quickly thought of The Moldau by Smetana. It was a piece written about a river called the Vltava in Prague. It starts out soft and beautiful but progresses to something fierce and demanding. As I was finishing up the piece, I opened my eyes and see Mitch leaning against the door frame to the room with his arms crossed, staring intently at me. He was wearing my favorite shirt, a light blue Lacoste polo that complemented his eyes to look like pools of sapphires.
"You're angry," He stated simply walking toward the piano slowly arms still crossed.
"I'm not angry, Mitch," I reply half-heartedly.
"You were lying this morning when Andrew asked where you had been," He said more like a statement, not a question.
"What are you talking about Mitch?" I ask.
"Every time you lie, you always scratch the back of your neck," He said matter of factly. I knew I had been caught. He never misses a detail. I took a deep breath in, mostly to take a brief second to prepare my thoughts and not have to confess my feelings in a flurry of emotions in a high school band room. How romantic.
"I guess I just feel...replaced, I guess is the word I'm looking for," I say quietly and fidgeting with the fabric at the bottom of my tee shirt at the hem line. He walked over to the piano bench I was sitting on and took a seat beside me, exhaling deeply.
"No one can replace you, bud," he says in serious tone.
"I owe you so much, you're always there to help me and you've been the best friend anyone can ask for, it just feels wrong not having your support with dating Morgan," he says with an edge of hurt in his voice.
"You really like her, don't you," I ask trying to shift away from emotions dealing with me.
"I do, honestly I think I love her James," he says seriously.
I felt like all the air had left my lungs and my heart had stopped beating. I was at a loss for words. I did the only thing I could think of, I just smiled at him. All the while my head was spinning and my heart was breaking.
Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait time, Life happened. School is making me its bitch. I have a long weekend this week, so I thought I would update. Hopefully I'll get some emails for the chapter, it's a tad dramatic, but hey, all for a good read. Who doesn't love a 15 year old gay boy in unrequited love? The story will be picking up soon, and be more focused in junior and senior years. Stay tuned guys, feedback is appreciated! J