The Other Twin

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

*Disappointments Arise*

The flying water bottle is what woke me up.

"Ms. Cazanave-" I was cut off by the black umbrella launched my way like a missile. Ducking to the side, I heard the air whistle in my air as the object sailed behind me. Her accuracy was getting better. I fearfully looked at the fallen umbrella that had nearly head-bonked me and realized how dangerous my situation had become.

"Please, Ms. Cazanave, I think you're slightly overreacting-" My chorus teacher threw a pad of Post-Its at me, which I thankfully avoided, before planting a hand at her side. The other hand held an ominous looking dictionary.

"No, you listen to me Taryn. You are the one overreacting." She paused to shake her dictionary, "Why would you even think about dropping out?" I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly; what I had been hoped for when coming to her room before school started, was a quiet one-on-one conversation. I would do the whole "it's not you, it's me" spiel, she'd nod understandingly and my guidance counselor would be informed to drop chorus from my schedule.

Instead, here I was-missing first period-while engaged in a frightening version of dodgeball. Only in this game, the rubber balls that bounced harmlessly off my person, were replaced by sharp, heavy objects like Ms. C's lotion bottle-an item she had thrown right after I said the words "drop out". Think, I urged my mind, well aware of the thirty freshmen students from her Beginner Choir watching our little scene with interest.

"See Ms. Cazanave," I swallowed thickly as she raised an interrogative brow, "I just don't think chorus is for me-"

The dictionary came flying at me, giving me mere seconds to dodge to the left before falling to the floor with a heavy muted thud; a sound I imagined to be very similar to the sound of an unconscious body falling to the floor, which was a sure possibility if this continued.

"Taryn I've run out of things to throw at you and my first class is waiting-give me one good excuse as to why I shouldn't kick you out?"

"Of chorus?" I asked hopefully.

"No, my room." She clarified.

"I... I-" I racked my brain for inspiration, "I'm afraid of developing nodules." I finally blurted out. The class went silent, until Ms. C grabbed her neon green highlighter and flung it at me. And while I wasn't able to move out of the way in time, her highlighter did little damage compared to the threat of her earlier dictionary.

After that, the class broke into rambunctious laughter, granted that the string of words that had spilled out of my mouth was the lamest excuse if the century. Nodules are like little bumps that form on the voice strings when a singer strains his or her voice too much. It was one of the things she went over on the first day of class. "Out you go Taryn." Ms. Cazanave dismissed, walking over from her desk where she had been supplied with her artillery, to take my arm and manhandle me to the door.

"But-"

"See you ninth period." She said.

"But-"

"And remember, I love you!" With that, she practically tossed me outside and slammed the door in my face, taking a good measure to lock it. Ms. Cazanave waved through the little window of the door before turning on her heel and returning to her class. That didn't go as planned.

Still speechless and in the process of working out what just happened, I did the only thing left to do-get to class. Thirty pairs of eyes turned to me when I finally walked into U.S History, thirty-one pairs if you count the glare Mr. Carson was aiming at me.