School began as usual. It started out as Morgan & I walking across the dewy lawn towards the steps which led to the double doors to Phoenix High, and us parting ways to get to our first classes of the day.
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Drama class. Just great.
The class was sat on the blue-cushioned seats of the school's auditorium, engaged in mere chatter that has filled the periphery. Each and every one of us must get up on stage and present to Ms. Daniels at least 2 minutes worth of anger and frustration. I had been rehearsing several statements and gestures for four days now. I figure I'd be alright up there.
As Ms. Daniels called up one student to the other, the more and more did I become a nervous wreck.
'Breathe, Jay.' I thought to myself. 'You have been practicing your ass off the past couple of days, cut yourself some slack.'
My thoughts, then, were interrupted by Ms. Daniels. "Jayla Lockhart, may you please take the stage."
I walked up the stage, trying to look confident but looking constipated instead, and bent down to adjust the microphone which stood two feet tall. Hey, how did it get way down there?
"Excuse me, um, love? You don't need to adjust the microphone. Its supposed to be that short. It could hear you loud and clear from there."
I jerked up from my crouching position only to see Ms. Daniels trying to hide a smile and the whole class bursting into fits of laughter at my utter stupidity. I instantly felt uneasy and I broke into a cold sweat. I stood there awkwardly.
"Oh," I tried to say, but it came out as a squeak intead, which made everyone burst into hysterics once again.
For what seemed like ages, I just stood there, not knowing what to do until Ms. Daniels finally put an end to the mocking laughter intended for me, and cleared her throat. "Alright, alright. Settle down now." The noise died slowly, and after a few moments of listening to everyone shift on their seats, dead silence overtook. "Ms. Lockhart, we are wasting time. Please begin." Ms. Daniels said calmly, but the way she said it pressured me a whole lot more.
My eyes scanned the auditorium as I attempted to brainstorm everything, anything that I rehearsed for today. I was so desperate and the thought of me failing this test made my stomach churn. The rest of the class stared at me expectantly. 'They must be waiting for me to humiliate myself again,' I thought. Their intimidating looks caused my heart to thump rapidly inside my chest. The humiliation was so compelling, I just forgot everything I rehearsed in the past four days. My hands grew clammy and my fingers started shaking and fidgeting relentlessly.
"U-um...I..." I stammered, lost in a blank mental state. I shifted my weight from one leg to the other, trying to hide the fact that my knees were shaking. I was lost for words and I hate myself for having to practice so hard when it all ends up like this anyway.
"You may return to your seat, Jayla." Ms. Daniels said with a sympathetic look plastered on her awfully-made-up face. " Regain your composture and try again later. Breathe, Jayla," She tried to comfort me over the mic.
The class was silent as I waddled back to my seat in shame. I kept my head up to show that i haven't lost all of my self-esteem---even if I sort of did---but mentally punching myself in the gut at how much of a fool I made myself look like. On the way there, a conceited and flamboyant Hunter Hone threw me a wink and chuckled to himself as I passed. 'What a huge jerk.' I thought to myself.
I sat back down and let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding, and sunk into my seat. "Damn it," I muttered to myself angrily.
Just then, a deep, scratchy, hushed voice replied from beside me out of the blue. "Um, hey, uh... Please don't feel bad about yourself," he said. "Some people have it much worse." He spoke so slowly, like he was shy and unsure with himself. Has he been here sitting next to me all along?
When I didn't even bother to turn my head to see who he was, or to even respond, he continued. "But...uh... That was a great try though... And I uh, like your hair." He said it with such sincerity, and it was enough to make me feel better.
Nice words from a complete stranger? Well that's something you don't hear everyday.
I composed myself, looking straight and said, "Wow, thanks." without sparing a glance at the guy. I forced a smile towards him, but alas, his back was already turned to me and he was walking away.
I noticed he had jet black hair and wore a black jacket with blue jeans. He had cool sneakers and a single silver bangle hung on his wrist. He walked with his hands jammed into his front pockets and his face slightly turned to the ground. Judging by his back, he was fit but wiry. Too bad he didn't get to hear my thanks. He sounded like a nice person, considering his uplifting words. But it seems like he needs some uplifting words, too.
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Class was eventually dismissed, but before that, I somehow regained my confidence back when my second attempt on stage---this time, without adjusting the microphone---turned out to be successful. But on top of that, Ms. Daniels gave me a perfect score. Well, you know what they say, second time's a charm.
I was walking happily out the auditorium on my way to meet Morgan for lunch like I usually do, until I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. I whipped around only to see a lean, tall, green-eyed boy flashing a toothy grin, holding out what seems to be my orange backpack.
I must have been so overwhelmed by my sudden change of emotions that I had completely forgotten about it.
"Why, hello there, Bailey." I smiled back.
"I believe this belongs to you, Jayla. Such a beautiful name," he said, handing me my backpack.
"Oh my god, Bails! Thank you so so much! I hadn't realized I didn't have it with me until now." I exclaimed and laughed at my own oblivion.
"Don't even mention it," he chuckled as he said so. Eagerly he added, "I was thinking maybe you wanted to eat lunch with me?"
"I'm so sorry, Bails, but I'm going with Morgan. Probably next time, 'kay?" As I spoke, he let out a little sigh, but hope and zeal remained in his eyes. Poor guy, he so constantly asks me to eat lunch with him, but I always reject the offer. Reject the offer nicely, rather.
