It's Like Music In My Ears

CHAPTER 8: THE PURSUIT

I had just three days left until the competition, and I knew I had to make things right with Melody. But every time I tried to talk to her, Kacy and Adelle were always around, guarding her like she was some kind of treasure they were protecting. I’d spent the entire day trying to catch her alone, but it was like they had a sixth sense—they always knew when I was coming.

“Back off, Francis,” Kacy had snapped when I approached Melody at lunch. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

I tried to explain, to push past them, but Adelle blocked my way. “Didn’t you hear her? Leave her alone.”

They weren’t going to let me get near her. I knew that much. But I couldn’t just give up. Not now. I needed a plan.

After school, I found Jace hanging out near the basketball courts, shooting hoops by himself. I filled him in on what happened, how Kacy and Adelle were like a brick wall between me and Melody.

Jace listened, dribbling the ball lazily, before stopping and turning to me with a grin. “Alright, we need to get them out of the way. Here’s what we’re gonna do…”

He outlined the plan, breaking it down step by step:

1. **Stage One**: Jace would “accidentally” bump into Adelle in the hallway, knocking her books out of her hands. He’d play the nice guy and help her pick them up, striking up a conversation to keep her busy.

2. **Stage Two**: At the same time, I’d ask Kacy for help with something “urgent” related to the music competition. Something she couldn’t refuse—maybe I’d pretend I needed advice on a song choice or something. She loved giving advice, and I knew she wouldn’t be able to resist.

3. **Stage Three**: With Kacy and Adelle both occupied, I’d finally have a few minutes alone with Melody. Enough time to say what I needed to say and try to make things right.

It wasn’t the most foolproof plan, but it was the best we could come up with on short notice. I had to admit, it was kind of brilliant.

I felt a little more confident about the next day as I headed home. But when I walked through the door, I found my older sister, Amber, sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, holding a box of tissues. I could tell by the smirk on her face that she wasn’t as sick as she was pretending to be.

“Hey, faker,” I teased, dropping my backpack by the door. “What’s the deal?”

Amber grinned, shrugging. “What can I say? I needed a day off.”

I rolled my eyes and plopped down next to her. Despite everything going on, it was nice to see her. We were close—closer than most siblings, I’d guess—and it felt good to have her around, even if she was faking sick.

“Alright, what’s up with you?” Amber asked, reading me like a book. “You’ve got that look on your face.”

“What look?”

“That ‘I’m in deep trouble but too stubborn to admit it’ look.”

I hesitated, then told her everything. About Melody, about the competition, and about how I’d messed everything up. Amber listened quietly, not interrupting once. When I was done, she sighed and shook her head.

“Francis, you’ve got to be patient,” she said. “Girls aren’t like boys. You can’t just rush in and expect everything to go your way. If you push too hard, you’ll flop, big time. You’ve got to take your time, be genuine, and let things happen naturally.”

I nodded, trying to take her advice to heart. Amber had always been good at this kind of stuff—reading people, giving advice. It’s why we got along so well.

“Also,” she added, “don’t try to control everything. If it’s meant to be, it’ll be. Just be honest with her, but give her space. Don’t make her feel like she has to forgive you.”

Her words hit hard, but in a good way. I knew she was right. I’d been so focused on fixing things that I hadn’t really thought about how Melody might be feeling. I needed to slow down, stop trying to force it.

“Thanks, Amber,” I said, giving her a quick hug. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

She smiled, ruffling my hair. “You’ll be fine, little bro. Just don’t screw it up.”

That night, as I lay in bed, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Amber had said. I was nervous about tomorrow, about putting the plan into action. But more than that, I was starting to realize that this wasn’t just about winning some competition anymore. It was about making things right with someone who, despite everything, I actually cared about.

Sleep didn’t come easy, but eventually, exhaustion won out. Tomorrow was another day, another chance to fix what I’d broken. And I wasn’t going to waste it.