3TS: The Chances of Starting Again

Special Evening

Hanging out with the boy of your dreams is a dream come true.

The next day, after Chemistry, I asked Trent.

He was clearing his desk, and I was just closing up some of my notebooks and Chemistry textbook. "How was detention yesterday?"

He looked around, maybe to see if anyone was looking at us.

Uh oh, Journal, maybe he didn't want people to know that he had went to detention. It was probably part of his ego or something that he didn't ever go to detention.

Fortunately, most of the students had filed out already. "It was alright. I made ten airplanes, and only four of them made it to the teacher's desk."

I smiled and raised my eyebrows, "She didn't get mad at you?"

He shook his head, looking down as if remembering the memory, "She was behind her wall of newspaper. She didn't mind. I think she isn't as strict to me as the other students."

I was quiet as I nodded, then I finally asked him, "So...can I see you play your song?"

He stuffed a few papers into his backpack and started to zip it up, "You mean you want to see the pre-presentation? Sure." He swung his backpack over his shoulder, smiling at me. "Let's go get my guitar. I brought it with me and left it in the library."

My mind rushed with excitement. If I was a little girl in a tall teenage girl's body, I would jump for joy, spin like a ballerina and squeal with giggles. But I wasn't a little girl, journal. Not anymore. 

Now that I'm a teenager, I have to act all cool and blank at times like this. But at home, I'm like a little girl whenever I want to be. In the bed I jump up and down. In the kitchen I dance to the radio's music. And even in the living room I squeal whenever I see my favorite popstar celebrity come onto the stage and flash the cutest smile.

But right now, I had to act cool. With a blank face. Because, outside, that's what every teenager does. Well, most of the ones I know.

"Here it is." He pushed away a cart full of books and unzipped his guitar case. For the first time in this time cycle, I saw his dazzling blue guitar.

It reminded me of the time that he had first pulled it out to strum a song for me. When we were already at his party, and he was trying to cheer me up while playing a song.

I smiled, remembering the first time we really connected as friends, that night at his birthday party. He was so polite and kind to come out and comfort me.

He strummed a chord, and I blinked back into the present.

Someone turned to shush us. I looked over to see Arlene telling us to be quiet. When she recognized me, she smiled. But when she saw that it was me and Trent, she raised her eyebrows and her mouth turned into a large "O" as if she had just choked on the biggest chunk of food ever.

Well, Arlene, hope you can swallow this one down. But he's going to show me a song!

I wanted to gleefully whisper to Arlene, but she turned back to her student that she was trying to tutor. And Trent started to head to the door, so I didn't have time to exchange a small chat with her. 

**

We sat down in the benches near the track field. 

He started to strum the basic chords, then moved to fingering. I've seen this arrangement before, journal. I think he made a mix of basic chords mixed with the arrangement of Michael Chapdelaine. After the first wave of chords, he started to hum quietly.