Oreo Ice Cream

Chapter 32| Nothing feels like this

News of our school's band has started buzzing in every nook and corner of our campus. I hadn't told them about my songwriting—not even Tristan. Maybe they've found someone from the literary club or anywhere else. Perhaps, Rose has come up with fantastic ideas for a new song, and the boys have approved her as their new songwriter. Maybe, they've lost hope in me or didn't want me anymore. 

Whatever it was, I knew there was no going back from this when I started writing again. Like, the things building up between Tris and me. Suddenly, I felt a twist in the pit of my stomach—an urge to tell Tristan about my songwriting, no matter how much I thought against it. He wouldn't laugh at me, for sure. But he might be doubting my skills, considering that I haven't (or couldn't) written a single lyric or poem for years. Whatever the consequence would be, I would tell him today. At least, he would have a sense that I was trying my best.

For a while, I zoned out and doodled on the margin of my notebook, regardless of knowing that our non-stop lecturing Mr. Stewart had eagle eyes. True, my grades this time have slightly lessened than my previous ones—a little less than Claire's, my rival and the so-called A+ senior. It felt ironic that the Flora, who once swore never to write or talk about Daddy, was now writing a song based on him. Because it was the most sensitive thing in my life — not sure how Mum dealt with it, but I still tended to get mad if anyone would speak or ask me about Dad.

Once the bell went, I was the first to leave the classroom as if it was on fire. The lump I managed to swallow earlier had returned to my throat. I lowered my pace when I saw Tris chatting with some guys from the school's soccer team at the end of the hallway. Putting the books in my locker, I inhaled deeper and approached Tris. One of them nudged him, seeing me when the latter looked at me in surprise before recovering quickly. For a second, I saw hope flickering in those ocean eyes. But soon, they were replaced with sternness and maybe anger.

"Tris, we need to talk." I blurted out once I reached him, glancing at the blonde guy who had nudged him before.

He didn't become surprised by my words, meaning he was expecting the same from me. "Uh—sure." He scratched the back of his neck before excusing himself from the guys and heading to my locker. Tristan going to my locker to talk was never a good sign. This would not end well—my heart ran faster.

"So, you were saying?" He shoved his hands into his pocket and leaned against my locker.

"I—uh—" I cleared my throat and took another sharp breath. "I'm—you know—it's like I'm—I wrote a new song." I finally blurted out. I didn't know why, but my mind whispered he would refuse to approve of me writing a song for them.

He stilled. His shoulders tensed, and his eyes held a blank expression. I gnawed my lower lip, playing with my fingers. Come on, Tristan, he kept quiet. I could sense girls shooting daggers at me, but fuck them—this was more important. Yes or no, Tris, come on, he sighed.

"It's actually—um—you know—" wow, I didn't realize we had a stuttering game. He licked his lips, and so did I. Oof, I sighed, boy, say something. "There's a—you know—a new girl in our band who's recently joined to play keyboard and is willing to write a song. I guess, she's started as—" 

The rest of his words vanished like fog before they reached my ears. It felt like a slap on my face—scratch that—I felt like someone had splashed ice-cold water across my face. I couldn't flinch or scream or cry. The world was spinning around me, and I could hear the pulses in my ear. My lungs stopped for a while—my heart was probably the fastest horse in the world now. I knew this, my mind screamed. It stung like a bee—no, like rejection. I've never felt like this before. But today, for the first time, I felt like crumbling into my bed and crying for as long as I could; I felt like crushing into the thick air and vanishing just like that; I felt like so many things—yet this—this felt like nothing else.