Dream Big (Sequel to Dreamer)

Chapter Eleven

Tia's POV

"Wingardium Leviosa" repeated over and over again and I felt around for the button. I groaned, sitting up as I finally found it. My phone began to ring, and I groaned again. I picked it up to see Shawn's icon. I accept the call, pulling myself out of bed. "Are you going for the Gryffindor emblem look?" Shawn asks, and I give him a death glare. Shawn shuts up, and I pull my Hufflepuff shirt out of the closet. "How scandalous. A Hufflepuff and a Gryffindor." Shawn comments, and I roll my eyes. "You're moody for a Hufflepuff." He huffs, and I puff at him. "And you seem to be lacking bravery in this situation for a Gryffindor." I snap back, grabbing a pair of leggings from my dresser. Shawn goes quiet, and I turn the camera away from me as I began to change. Once I have my clothes on I turn the camera back around, and I head to the bathroom with my kitten at my heals. I set my phone up on the counter to where Shawn can see me. I began to brush my hair, occasionally glancing at Shawn who seemed to be staring at me. "May I help you?" I ask, perfecting my part. "It's weird. You don't look any different without make up." He commented, and I began to laugh. "Shawn, you've never seen me wear make up." I tell him, and his eyes go wide. "Your lips are naturally rosy?" He asks, and I nod. "Your lashes are naturally that long and thick? Your cheeks are naturally that red?" He also asks, and I nod. "Yes, Shawn. My face is naturally that red and my lashes are naturally that full." I chuckle, and Shawn's jaw drops. "When do I get to see you again?" I ask, frowning. "I don't know. It'll have to be when the rumors die down, though. We can't let our relationship be known. You're seventeen, and I'm 19. Even though that's only two years it's still illegal in the United States." He explained, and I sighed with a nod. "You'll be twenty in a few months." I sighed, wanting to be in his arms. "You'll be eighteen a few months after." Shawn points out, and I nod. "It's just six months. We can make it six months." Shawn encourages, and I nod. This is gonna be a long six months... I thought, putting my hair brush away. I grabbed my toothbrush and began to brush my teeth.

I picked up my skateboard, walking up to the school doors. I was still on FaceTime with Shawn, and I still hadn't stopped beaming. "No, Harry belongs in Gryffindor!" I argue back, and he keeps insisting that Harry belongs in Slytherin. "Then how come he summoned Faux?" I ask, and Shawn goes quiet. "Only a true Gryffindor could summon Faux, a fellow Gryffindor's bird, to bring him the sword of Godric Gryffindor." I state, and Shawn finally caved in and agreed with me. I opened the first door, and Shawn and I kept talking about ships and different characters. We definitely agreed on Ron and Hermione being together, and Ginny and Harry being together. We hated the idea of Draco and Hermione being together, but we wished that Luna and Neville had ended up together. As I entered the second door Jesse, Matthew, and Merry tackled me. They asked if I was okay, and who I was talking to. I was fighting them off as I tried to get up and find my phone before anyone saw the screen. I tell Shawn I'll call him later, and hang up before anyone sees. I quickly get up, and clear my throat. "To tell you the truth, I'm fine. I'm a bit dizzy now since y'all tackled me, but I'm fine." I say, avoiding their last question. Jesse hugs me, and suddenly so is everyone. Then I hear Austin ask who we're hugging and why. I laugh, and everyone pulls away.

The first half of the day went by pretty quickly. Seeing as I skipped Kindergarten because I already knew how to read, I was ahead of all of my friends. I sat at a lone table in the back. I sat by myself most days. Occasionally my only senior friend would be there for what ever reason and come sit with me. He was a book worm that didn't really talk much. Yet, so was I when I was alone. I was currently texting Shawn.
(A/N: Tia, Shawn)

I miss you
And I miss you
How's school?
It's okay. I have a lot of catching up to do, but it shouldn't be too hard. How's song writing going?
I'm stuck again. Andrew says that my anger is starting to get the best of me
Don't let it. The second your anger catches up to you is the day you lose yourself and your career
I'm trying not to let it. Don't you like to write?
What do you have so far? Maybe I can help get the juices flowing again
Nothing
Okay, I have a song that you can use. I was going to turn it into a duet, but you can use it as a solo. Okay?
Tia. You are the best.
Thanks, babe. I'm copying and pasting now. All you have to do is change the words to sound more masculine
Looking out at the vast sea
Petals, tell me the truth
I'm standing on the edge
Looking out at the field
One step away from
I'm standing on the line
Between truth and lies
He loves me,
He loves me not,
He loves me
I'm standing out on the edge
Looking out at you
Shouts hardly even whispers
When they get between
Me to you
He loves me,
He loves me not,
He loves me
I don't even know what's true
All I know is I'm holding on
Holding on to all our promises
I'm standing on the edge
On the edge of truth
He loves me,
He loves me not,
He loves me
I'm standing out on the edge
Looking out at you
Shouts hardly even whispers
When they get between
Me to you
He loves me,
He loves me not,
He loves me
I'm standing on the edge
Looking out at the field
One step away from
I'm standing on the line
Between truth and lies
He loves me,
He loves me not,
He loves me
I don't even know what's true
All I know is I'm holding on
Holding on to all our promises
I'm standing on the edge
On the edge of truth
I'm starting out
Just looking out
From flower to flower
Just looking for you
I'm standing on the edge
Between truth and lies
He loves me,
He loves me not,
He loves me
He loves me...
he-... loves-... me

I sit there for a few minutes on read before Shawn finally begins to type. As I wait for a response I through away my empty lunch tray and begin to sip on my water. Finally, my phone buzzes.

Tia, that song is so good. That's going to fit perfectly with my next album! I love it! Thank you so much!
Of course, Shawn. Seeing my songs out there would be amazing. Thank you for letting me help
Hey, I have to go. The bell just rang. I'll text you when I can
Bye, Shawn
Aw. Bye, Tia

I put my phone away, grabbed my books up, and then I got up to walk out. A girl approached me with a news magazine, squealing wildly. I froze in place, my heart racing. I'd never seen this girl before, and I hated strangers. My anxiety began to really kick in. "You're Shawn Mendes' mystery kisser!" She declares, shoving the magazine in my face. There we were, Shawn's hands cupping my face as he kissed me. "I-I'm sorry... Who are you...? I think you have to wrong girl..." I lie, pulling my books closer to my chest. The girl looks back and forth between me and the girl on the magazine. My hair was down in that picture, so you couldn't really tell it was me. "No... you're right. Her hair is darker. And longer. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out." She says, scampering off. Thank you hair dye, I think as I rush to class. I sat in the back of the class, listening as my teacher rambles on about how to write poems. She assigned us to write a poem, and then came over to me and told me that we just read a book in class for the past month. She told me that since she'd seen me read it earlier in the year not to worry about reading it again and not to worry about the test we took this past Friday on it. I nodded, and I wrote my poem. It was to have four stanzas and four lines. At the end of class our teacher asked us to sit and listen to one that she particularly enjoyed reading. She said that it spoke volumes to her, and that she felt everyone deserved to hear this message.
"'Oxygen Mask' is the name of this poem. I want everyone to listen to the meaning of this poem. Here it goes...

My life isn't ran by tears,
My clothes show difference isn't one of my fears.
Makeup doesn't run down my face.
I don't cover myself in the popular lace.

I never say, "Mirror, show me what society wants."
I will make my own debutante
I don't ask the mirror to help me play dress up.
Forever I will be my own person for me to look up.

Put away that mask,
Why must you ask,
"Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?'
One day it will make you fall.

Don't follow suit with a mime,
I ask you one last time,
Why follow such a horrid task?
Appearance isn't an oxygen mask'

Can anyone tell me the meaning of this poem?"

A boy in the back that hardly ever said anything shakily raises his hand, and the teacher calls on him. "It means that it's okay to be different. That you aren't supposed to be all the same, and that being all the same isn't everything." He explains, and I smile. He was right. "Would the owner please stand up? You don't have to, I already know who you really are, but you deserve recognition." I refused to stand. I didn't want recognition. Having the message heard was enough.