Monthly Writing Workshop Shorts (#3)

December - Season's Feelings (Pt. 1)

Winter

   This month marks a semester since "Chase the Ace" escaped that awful "gifted" middle school and returned to my old one, and...well, some things haven't changed.

Next Thursday, I've got a date with a basketball game on TV. However, my new music teacher has other plans. We've seized the high school auditorium down the road for holiday show practice. It smells like a poorly aged cheese, and the auditorium seats squeak like a Krodi's shopping cart. I want nothing to do with this. Mr. P isn't Mrs. M. That lady was timeless until she chose to retire. Mr. P is chaotic and looks like the lead singer from The Cure, but without lipstick.

Our 7th grade class's part? A "My Favorite Things"/"Marshmallow World" medley. That I like. The morning news will play a rendition of the first song during their "your neck of the woods" weather break. I'll lip-sync out to them in my bedroom at night. But, here, I'm in the back row, tugging my cardigan sleeves, lost in carpet stains.

Leo, class idiot, my friend, pokes me. "Chase."

Sh. I'm enjoying my songs.

"Any ideas for our skit yet?"

Oh. Right. Pick a partner (Leo!), act out a fun story next Friday. Last time we did one of these, this quiet, creative kid became popular, but then my parents dragged me away to...

I shake my head. "No..."

The 5th graders are after us. Those kids must have the worst song choice in the history of shows. Another music teacher's Kidz Bop-ified classic. "Popular Song" by Mika and Ariana Grande, which is just a rip-off of that one from Wicked. Mr. P's vision is "being you." I'm failing miserably. My return has been a real dream, but being back hasn't exactly been like riding a four-wheeler. Switching took something from me. I don't care about smarts, I care about being normal again.

The song begins. Leo hates it, but he dances along anyway. Why can't I do that here?

"Mm. That's a no from me," I mutter, channeling Simon Cowell.

"Heh. The hell?"

My cheeks flare. Leo catches me thinking out loud. I purse my lips like I regret saying a word, but my coughing laugh...just sparked an idea.

***

At the apartment, I can see my dearest companion sitting in my bedroom window like a widower, watching me approach. As soon as I head in, it's off to my shoebox room for "me time."

Pop-u-lar? I know a-bout Gum-ball La-Fleur (bleeping 5th graders!).

Just when I'm anxious about next week, my decorative light-up unicorn is there to make my day. He's on my table-desk, decked out to the elevens in an oversized dress shirt and red bowtie.

"Who plays dress-up with a decoration?"

Tell that to the 3rd-place Krodi's gift card I won in last year's window contest!

"Good news! Skits are back!" I recap the news while shedding my uniform. "Leo and I are doing a mock news report on the holiday show. He's the anchor. I'm a biting British critic."

Gumball's silence? Pure joy.

"I know." My pant leg won't get unstuck. "But, there's...no way I can do it again."

When I pitched it, I thought it was the worst idea. Then, I scratched that off like a lottery ticket as soon as Leo burst out cackling. It's so easy. Just go with the flow. Let words come out naturally. I did it for our Trixie Belden/MMA mystery two Octobers ago. "Chase the Creative Ace" shone. But, since my grand return, it's been a struggle to remember my footing.