The Boy Who Called Me Songbird

Chapter 4~ Early Bird Special

Hello All!

Here's the next chapter!

Hope you like, as always!

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Thanks so much!

Your fellow reader and writer,

Laura :D

Willy's POV

I sat there in my bed that night, staring at the bottom of Lilly's bed and listening to the tapping of raindrops on the roof. I couldn't help but think about Ferrior. He seemed so friendly and kind to me when I talked to him and I couldn't believe that everyone thought that he was such a freakshow. Even Bea, the sweet, open-armed, friend-to-all said that this guy was bad news and to stay clear of him. 

What if he was everything that they said he was? I thought to myself, But what if he wasn't? What if he's just shy?

I leaned over my bed and shuffled through my bag until I found my journal (the one with the willow on it), my favorite blue pen and flashlight. I crawled under my comforter so that I wouldn't wake anyone up and turned on the light.

As I dropped the journal on the bed a tiny letter fell out of it. I picked it up and examined it closely before opening it up as quietly as I could. I recognized the handwriting immediately, it was from my Aunt Wisty.

"To my Dearest Willy,

I hope that you are having a good time at Camp! I know that I did when I went. Don't forget that one of the reasons that the camp exists is to bring musical kids together and to make friends. The people that I met at camp became my friends for life! You're going to do great there, and don't worry about your mom and me, we'll be fine! Just have some fun!

Call me whenever and knock 'em dead girl!!

With lots of love,

Aunt Wisteria

P.S. I also have a surprise for you: I'm going to be coming to visit you for a week to help out!"

I put the letter down with a smile. Aunt Wisty knew me so well! She knew that I would choose the journal with the willow tree on it. Actually, the thought that she knew me that well kind of creeped me out a little bit.

Maybe I'm more like her than I thought! I contemplated.

Well, all except for the part that she's a grown, confident, musical genius of a woman and I'm just a shy, scrawny-legged, guitar-playing, teenage girl, grumbled another voice in my head.

I opened up the journal to the first page and found that she had left me another note. It was one of her favorite sayings and the motto that she lived by: "Trust your Crazy Ideas!"

I missed her so much that it almost hurt. She always knew what I was feeling even when I wasn't even looking at her. She said that it was because I reminded her of herself when she was my age. I couldn't believe that someone like Wisteria Drake could have been like me. I felt like she was a hippie goddess comparing herself to a filthy mortal. I guess that I should have felt honored or flattered by this, but it only made me feel more and more inferior. How was I supposed to live up to someone of such amazing talent and beauty and confidence?

I heard Scones scratch at the bottom of his cage grouchily. He couldn't sleep with all of the racket I was making.

 Oh well, I thought to myself, I need my sleep anyway. I tucked the journal back into my bag and turned off my flashlight.