❝I think you're my favorite person.❞
- - -
Since childhood, Lila's had her mind set on what she wants. And now in her senior year, that's getting into West Michigan State University. But her overbearing...
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WHEN I WAS younger, I had a really foolish dream of becoming a music sensation.
I told all my friends that one day my face would be plastered onto a billboard you see in Time Square. They all believed me.
And I was dead-set on it. I was convinced my voice was blessed by angels.
So it was a surprise when I turned eleven and found out that that was not the case. If anything, my voice was cursed by the monsters that I believed were under my bed.
It was that bad.
Since then, I've discovered that focusing on more realistic goals will save you a ton of trouble. Or in my case, the humiliation of performing on a stage.
I don't think there's anything more embarrassing than messing up a high-note in front of thousands of people.
I blow a strand of hair out of my face, and sigh into the palm of my hand. I'm trying really hard to pay attention to whatever Mr. Wilson is saying, but it's becoming extremely difficult when every five seconds my mind keeps wandering back to random things.
I should also definitely be writing that essay of mine, but every time I sit down to do it, it's like my mind goes blank.
Kind of like right now.
Mr. Wilson has been rambling for what I think to be about seven minutes now. And I can guarantee I stopped listening as soon as my mind caught sight of the window.
Rainy days make the perfect scenery for getting lost in your thoughts.
There's something weirdly nostalgic about the way the rain drops hit the window and the trees blow with the gust of the wind.
I feel a tap on my shoulder and carefully look behind me. My eyes narrow on the girl who is pointing toward the board.
Mr. Wilson stands with his arms crossed and a pointed look on his face in my direction. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Sixty percent of this class isn't paying attention and yet I'm the one who gets called out.
I knew that Mr. Wilson didn't like me, especially on the numerous occasions I've corrected his knowledge, but it's starting to get a little repetitive.
I'm surprised he hasn't failed me out of spite. Yet.
"Care to add to that, Lila?" He speaks, his voice harsh and very nearly causing me to have a migraine.
I blow out a breath and look to the board for a bit of help. It isn't usually like me to zone-out of class, so I'm sure he's having a field day by catching me this time.
