Perhaps (Book 1) | ✔

ACT I - Scene 5

Gloria's home — her bedroom

My confidence in my audition had completely faded by the evening.

I sat in my room, trying to get my homework out of the way so that I could focus on practicing some dance choreography over the weekend; but all I could focus on were all the mistakes that I had to have made. My voice had to have been off-key somewhere, or cracked at some point. Or I had looked absolutely ridiculous twirling around on the stage just for an audition. I doubted very much that Layla had done that! She had probably focused solely on showcasing her vocals and her innate talent! Not performing silly spins!

The judges had not said anything after my audition, and I hadn't expected them to. They had merely clapped, and then informed me that the results would be posted outside of the auditorium on Monday. I had nodded in return and bowed before departing; my eyes had been unable to resist wandering towards Professor Lee. But he had been busy looking at the sheet of paper before him, writing down notes. I had left without so much as a nod from him.

Had I not impressed him enough to earn at least that? Or a smile? What about a wave? Or even for him to look up at me as I left? Something?! Anything?!

You're obsessing again! Stop!

As they had been doing all evening, my thoughts drifted from my (questionable) audition to Professor Lee. How much had I been obsessing over him since the moment we had first met? I had continued my ridiculous routine of dressing up for his class. I had continued to sit in the very center of the front row, right in front of the podium where he usually stood so that I had the best possible view of him. I spoke up more in his class; I had still not made anything less than an A on any of the assignments, quizzes, or our first test. And I still stayed behind after the class ended just to get a smile and a 'good-bye' from him.

God, I had been acting so foolishly! I was the embodiment of the silly schoolgirl with a crush on her teacher! That girl had my name written all over her! I was becoming no better than those ridiculous girls who had taken up audition slots just to have five minutes of his undivided attention. No, I was worse than them! I needed to stop this frivolousness before it went too far.

It was the same conversation I'd had with myself several times before: at least three times a week, I told myself that I needed to stop acting so silly. Before people began to notice—before Professor Lee began to notice.

Who am I kidding? He's probably already noticed how stupid I'm acting...

I resolved, each time, to stop acting like an idiot in front of him. And, each time, my resolve faltered. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, I continued to wake up early so that I could dress myself up for him. When he showed up to the classroom in all of his blonde perfection, I couldn't resist wishing that he would notice all the effort I put into my hair and makeup. Every time class ended, I wished to hear him say my name in a good-bye; I just wanted to hear the way it rolled so perfectly off his tongue. It gave me chills every time, and the effect never seemed to diminish or fade.

I needed to stop.

Professor Lee was my teacher. There were rules in place, and the rules existed for a reason. Any feelings that I had for him would always go unrequited; as they should. There was no possible way that we could ever be together in the ways I fantasized about in the hours between wakefulness and sleep.

He was my teacher.

I was his student.

I stood and strode into my bathroom, flipping on the light and staring at my reflection. I was shocked to see that my eyes were shining with the onset of tears, and quickly turned on the sink to splash some water on my face. As I patted it dry, I studied myself in the mirror. What did Professor Lee think when he looked at me? Did he think that I was pretty? Did he think that I was plain?