Milo

I

Hi.

    My name is Gabrielle.

    And this is the story of how I became a ghost, and then didn't.

✂

    I was fifteen years old.

    fifteen years, five months, eight days, and 150 pounds of Gabrielle Stevenson.

    150 pounds of awkward, boy-crazed, glasses-wearing, brown-haired girl.

    Hell, I was practically inviting people to make fun of me.

    At least that's what I thought, at the time.

✂

    It was the fourth week of ninth grade, just about when all of the students give up on trying to put thought into their outfits or worry about getting to class before the bell. I had recently changed my schedule from second hour art to second hour vocal music, as art was not a strong point of mine. That Monday morning would be my first time going to that class, four weeks late.

    The second hour bell rang as I gathered my books and my courage and headed toward the vocal music room. The heavy door squeaked as I entered the below-ground classroom. The first person I immediately greeted was the teacher, of course. She smiled a smile too large for the rest of her face and told me her name was Mrs. Babcock, then asked me to call her Mrs. Ariel. She claimed it was because she wanted to be casual and on a first-name basis with her class, but it was probably because her last name was Babcock. Her loose black ponytail bounced as she shook my hand.

    Mrs. Ariel told me to stand next to the piano and sing a set of notes to determine my vocal range. I was terrified of having to do it in front of everyone, but it seemed as though all of my classmates were preoccupied with gossip or reading or singing songs of their own. The singing went by quicker than I anticipated. She told me I was an alto, and that I should go to the left side of the room with the rest of my alto buddies, which were almost all boys.

    That's when I saw him.

I saw the boy with tan skin and green eyes and wavy brown hair, the boy with a jawline so sharp you could cut yourself on it.

    Now, I've had crushes before, but not like this. This one hit me in the face like a freight train. My previous failed infatuations were usually gradual, admiring them from a distance until eventually my interest was silently snuffed out like a candle flame. I stupidly chose to take a seat next to him, instantly regretting it when I sloppily plunked down in the seat, not anticipating it to be as short as it was. I was busy cursing myself in my head when a deep voice snapped me out of my thoughts;

    "Hey. I haven't seen you around school, but I heard you sing over there and you're pretty good. What's your name?"

    Dear god.

    I couldn't tell if my heart skipped a beat- or started palpitating at the speed of light, but it was something like that.

    I replied a fraction of a second later than I should have, and as awkwardly as I possibly could I blabbered; "Oh, uh, Gabrielle. Stevenson. And thank you, I was really nervous, uh, what's your name?"

    I was 110% sure he was going to notice how much of a loser I was and stop talking to me immediately, But he didn't.

    "Well, My name is officially Miles Norman Rodriguez, but everyone just calls me Milo," He said with a pearly smile. His honey-smooth voice was echoing in my head when Mrs. Ariel clapped her hands and announced with her booming voice;

"Alright, we're going to sing Something Told the Wild Geese one time through! Get your sheet music out and check your posture." Then she spoke towards Milo and I, "Gabrielle, if you're lost, have Milo help you. Do you know how to sight read?" I nodded, internally sighing in relief that we were singing a song I was familiar with. The teacher excitedly exclaimed, "Wonderful! I don't have any extra sheet music so just share with Milo for now, but I should have some for you by next week."

    Milo looked over to me and I swore his olive eyes twinkled. He held the sheet music a little closer to me and I tried my hardest to avert my gaze from his. Why, why, why must every guy I like be 456 miles out of my league? Why must I have chronic limerence?

    As soon as I heard the first note escape his lips I knew I was in too deep. He sounded like he belonged amongst caroling angels, not mortals like me. I could barely hear my own voice because my pulse was so loud in my ears and I was straining so much to listen to him. The song ended much, much too soon.

    "That was amazing! You guys sounded like a real choir," rang out Mrs. Ariel's voice. "And Gabrielle, I am very impressed! Your first day here and you sang without a flaw. Bravo!" I felt my cheeks bloom into red roses as I quietly thanked her, wishing she hadn't called me out, even with kind intentions. My whole face turned an even darker shade when I felt Milo nudge me, quietly complimenting, "She's right, you were amazing."

    I replied sheepishly "Oh wow, thank you. Your voice is incredible."

    He just smiled and winked, His long dark lashes brushing his flawless cheekbones.

    My heart melted into a puddle on the floor.

    Mrs. Ariel had us go through the song one more time, then she gave the other kids some free time while she called me over to see what I knew from what they had already learned. The bell rang and I said goodbye to mrs Ariel before marching off to my next class.

    I went through third and fourth hour with his mellifluous voice playing over and over through my mind on loop. I must have been smiling because my best friend Janice came to my desk just before lunch and asked bluntly, "Whatcha got that grin for?"

    I rolled my eyes. "I'm not grinning."

    "It's a boy, isn't it?"
    "...mmmmaybe..."

    "OMG! Tell me tell me now who is it?"
    The bell rang as soon as she said that and I threw her a smug look, racing out of the classroom to the cafeteria.

    I sat down At a mostly vacant table and ate lunch by myself, as I usually do. It doesn't bother me to be alone, but My two friends are in a different lunch than me.

    I held my fork in hand when a voice startled me.

    "Mind if I sit here?" My plastic fork practically leapt onto the floor, clattering against the tile. Milo stood next to me, exclaiming, "Oh wow, sorry if I startled you! I'll get you a new fork." He jogged off to the cheap cart that held the "silver" ware. He strode back to my table and handed me the utensil, then sat down at the seat across from mine.

    "Oh thank you, you really didn't have to get me a new one." I said, nervously.

    "Of course I had to! I was the one who made you drop it in the first place."

    I smiled at him and he smiled back. Fireworks went off in my head.

    The rest of lunch and recess flew by quickly, I had joked and laughed with him, falling even deeper in love. One of my favorite things about him was his voice, he spoke with a sort of eloquence not commonly found in eighth graders. Before we went to sixth hour, he turned to me and asked, "Do you think I could get your phone number?"

    I nearly went into cardiac arrest.

    I nodded and wrote my number down on the back of his hand.

    "Thanks! I'll text you!" he said, and then wandered off down the halls of Franklin High School.

    I had learned absolutely nothing in the following classes because my mind kept wandering, daydreaming of his smooth skin and voluminous hair and full lips and honey voice.

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