Bloom

Part 1

[written in 2012 | edited: Nov 2020]

"Congratulations, Lily!" I said.

My best friend and I were having a mini-celebration at the school cafeteria. She was so lucky to have many—and mad—skills. As a freshman, Lily could do dancing, singing, acting, drawing, gymnastics, swimming, and many other things. It was no surprise that she would pass the dance audition for the Annual Performing Arts Competition this spring.

She tossed her silky black hair off her shoulders and said something that made me choke a mouthful of soda: "Hey, Bloom. You should audition for the songwriting contest."

"Huh? Songwriting?" I exclaimed, which made her giggle. "No way! I suck at making music."

She rolled her eyes. "Come on. You got the writing skills and the voice. I think it's an amazing combo."

"How can you say so? You've never heard me sing."

"Sure, but I do hear you hum every time you listen to music on your phone."

It was my turn to roll my eyes. "Lily, it's just humming."

"Still, I think you got the voice."

Oh, Lily. I know you're trying to encourage me, but...

I wasn't well-rounded when it came to artistic skills. I even doubted I had one. One time, my fourth-grade teacher had told me that I would never be good at music because of my bad grades. I loved music. I loved playing and listening to them, but I was bad at memorizing its history and studying all those musical notes. Other than that, there was another person who had discouraged me from making music. Agatha Harrington, my ex-best friend. A very talented girl.

Their criticisms had been harsh, but I supposed they were right. You can never master some skills no matter how hard you try. So, I stopped trying to pursue music and decided to take on another interest instead—being someone else's cheerleader.

I smiled at Lily, shaking my head. "No. I'll pass. I'm not exactly interested in songwriting and stuff."

"Really? You're not interested?" Lily pouted her lips as she rummaged her bag. "So would you care to explain this?" She pulled out a familiar crumpled paper that had my handwriting on it. I lunged at her, trying to get that stupid paper, but she pulled away from me so quickly.

Groaning, I sank back in my seat in total defeat. She laughed and lifted the paper to her eye level.

"'Smile, so people won't see your tears. Laugh, so no one thinks you have any fears. Sing to make yourself free...'" she began reading. She was loud enough for the students at the other table to hear the cringe-worthy stuff I had written. I covered my ears and chanted random words to block her voice.

"Seriously, Bloom," she said after reading, "this is the perfect audition piece. It matches the theme of courage and growing up!"

I made a face. "Lily, did you really dig through the trash just for that?"