I sat on my bed, looking at the same old, dark brown bench, sitting on the curb. A boy sits there. Every day, he sits there. I wonder who he is. It's my last night of summer, I go to school tomorrow. The boy sits with his guitar, and plays melody's everyday. But they're always different melody's, never the same. Each night, I watch from behind my curtains, hiding from him. I look forward to hear him play, and tonight I hope it's a good song, it can be a good luck charm for tomorrow. The boy showed up. He didn't have his guitar, he had a black case, and when he opened it, a big keyboard came out. I was amazed.
He started by running his fingers up and down the keys, and he started playing a song.
That's where trouble started.
I was getting really into the song, and when I couldn't take it anymore, I sang along with him. I sang a few words before realizing, and then I clasped my hands over my mouth. He stopped playing. He stopped singing. I peeked out the side of the curtain. He was looking around, when he looked up at my window, I closed the curtain and climbed down my bed, I have a loft. I quickly grabbed my laptop and sat down at my desk. I put on Netflix and acted like everything was fine. But it wasn't. The mystery singer knows someone's here.
I went over to my notebook, it was my songbook.
I guess it's the time to tell you.
I am in love with music.
My songbook is leathery, and it is bedazzled on the edges.
As I opened it up, a car door slammed and the car drove off. The mystery boy had left.
As soon as I had checked to make sure he was gone, I put my song book on my piano, and started playing. My songs are made up of my thoughts. I started playing a song called, You don't know I'm Here. It's about me and the mystery singer. I sang the song, soon after that I went to bed.
The next morning, I got on the bus and I put my earbuds in. At the next stop, a boy got on and sat next to me, he said, "Hi."
I smiled, but then I recognized him.
It was the mystery singer.
The rest of the ride was awkward.
When we got to school, he said, "I'm Nolan."
I smiled and shook his hand. "I'm Sabrina, but you can call me Bri."
We walked away from each other.
On the bus that afternoon , I was about to tell him, that I was the mystery girl, but he got off the bus before I had the chance. When I got home, a big truck was in our driveway, boxes were in it. My dad said, "Bri, we are moving."
My heart stopped. My best friend Amelia, came out of the house, tears in her eyes. I gave her a tight hug. She said, "I'll miss you so much, come back and visit me."
I nodded. Then it hit me. Nolan would never know that I sang with him.
When we packed up the car, and we're driving down the road, Nolan was on his way up the street. I threw my songbook out the window, and he picked it up. We turned the corner. Nolan won't know I'm the singer.
I'll only be Sabrina.
