It's Like Music In My Ears

CHAPTER 3: THE ENCOUNTER

The whole day, I kept thinking about the dream, about what I needed to do. By the time school was over, I was determined to talk to Melody. Not just talk—I had to convince her that I genuinely wanted to be friends. I figured if I played it right, I could get her to lower her guard, maybe even get some insight into her weaknesses.

I spotted her just outside the school gate, chatting with her two best friends, Kacy and Adelle. Both of them were practically glued to her side, laughing at something she said. I squared my shoulders and made my way over, trying to look as casual as possible.

But as soon as I got close, Kacy stepped in front of me, her arms crossed. “What do you want, Francis?” Her tone wasn’t exactly welcoming.

Adelle shot me a glare, her eyes narrowing. “Yeah, back off. Melody doesn’t need you bothering her.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, Melody cut in. “Guys, stop.” She gave them a look that was half-amused, half-annoyed. “I can handle this.”

Kacy and Adelle exchanged skeptical glances, but eventually, they relented. “Fine,” Kacy muttered, stepping aside. “But we’ll be waiting. Don’t take too long.”

Melody nodded, and they reluctantly walked off, casting one last glance my way before disappearing around the corner.

I turned to Melody, suddenly feeling a lot more nervous than I’d expected. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to say something.

“So, what’s up?” she asked, her tone casual but curious.

I hesitated for a second, then decided to go for it. “I, uh… I wanted to talk to you. I mean, we’ve been schoolmates for like 15 years, but we’ve never really talked. I thought maybe we should get to know each other.”

Her eyebrow arched higher, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “Fifteen years, huh? And you’re just now interested in being friends?”

“Yeah,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I guess I just realized it’s kind of weird that we’ve been in the same school for so long and never really hung out. Figured we could change that.”

She studied me for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she shrugged. “Alright, sure. Why not?”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Cool. So, um, can I get your Instagram handle?”

Melody smirked, like she found the whole situation amusing, but she pulled out her phone and rattled off her username. I quickly followed her, trying not to look too eager.

“Alright, I’ll catch you later then,” she said, nodding toward where her friends had disappeared. “Kacy and Adelle are probably getting impatient.”

“Yeah, sure,” I replied, still a little stunned that it had actually worked. “See you.”

I watched her walk off, feeling a strange mix of triumph and anxiety. Step one was done. Now I just had to figure out what to do next.

---

Later that night, I found myself at home, staring at my phone. I’d been scrolling through Instagram, occasionally stopping at Melody’s profile. She had a pretty decent following, not that I was surprised. Most of her posts were just normal stuff—pictures with her friends, a few music-related shots, some candid moments that made her seem more down-to-earth than I’d imagined.

I debated texting her. Was it too soon? Would it seem weird? I shook my head, telling myself to stop overthinking. Finally, I just went for it.

“Hi,” I typed, hitting send before I could second-guess myself.

Almost immediately, the message was marked as seen, and then the dreaded bubble appeared: *typing…*

It felt like she was writing a whole essay, and my heart started racing as I waited. Then, her reply popped up: “Hey, Francis.”

I let out a heavy exhale, realizing I’d been holding my breath. “Wsg?” I typed back, trying to keep it casual.

There was a brief pause before she responded, and just like that, we were off.

---

The conversation started off light. We talked about school, the usual stuff—how boring classes were, which teachers were cool, which ones we couldn’t stand. I learned she had a soft spot for Ms. Daniels, our English teacher, because she’d encouraged Melody to write more, something she apparently enjoyed but didn’t share much with others.

From there, we drifted into music. She asked what I was practicing for the competition, and I gave her a vague answer, not wanting to reveal too much. She didn’t push, just mentioned she was working on something new, something different from what she usually played.

Hours passed without either of us noticing. We talked about our favorite bands, songs that had changed our lives, and whether pineapple belonged on pizza (she was firmly against it; I didn’t care either way). We laughed about stupid stuff, like how Jace once got stuck in a locker during gym class, and she told me about the time Kacy accidentally dyed her hair green before a school dance.

I glanced at the clock, my eyes widening when I saw it was already 2 a.m. How had time flown by so quickly? But before I could say anything, another message from her popped up: “This has been fun, but we should probably get some sleep.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” I replied, though I didn’t really want the conversation to end. “But, um, maybe we could hang out tomorrow? At the school library or something?”

“Sure,” she texted back, a smiley face at the end of the sentence. “See you there, Francis.”

I stared at the screen for a moment, a grin spreading across my face. Maybe Jace was onto something after all. I hadn’t figured out her weaknesses yet, but for the first time, I felt like I had a real shot.

With that thought in mind, I finally set my phone down, drifting off to sleep with a sense of anticipation for what the next day would bring.