"Oh, I didn't order this"
"It's from that guy over there"
☕☕☕
One blueberry milkshake, a stranger sitting next to her, a cheerful waitress. The play begins.
Wott, the coffee shop close to Avery's school, is the stage for the act she plays, again and...
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I felt dizzy. My legs were shaking and I could feel my heart beating fast against my ribcage.
Dad was in a hurry to go to work, telling me to get out of the car faster. So I did.
My feet glued to the pavement, and realisation struck me. I was a student at Nova's Academy of Art. A dream come true.
My passion was always dancing, but I applied for acting. My parents didn't think I could succeed in any. They're just trying to please me, yet I thank them every day for the opportunity.
Butterflies fluttered inside me, and I looked back for some encouraging words. They didn't come because dad was already gone.
With a deep breath, I stepped through the enormous green gates.
I met a yellowish stone pavement snaking its way through the green fields around the stone building not so far away from me.
Kids were jumping on a rope or playing football in the yard, sitting by the stone steps and chatting. They looked so happy all my fears went aside and I made my way to the main building.
Then it hit me. Literally.
A ball flew right into the back of my head and I fell on the ground, face first. Amazing.
It didn't hurt that much, but the embarrassment tainted my cheeks pink. First day and I'm already falling on the ground like a klutz.
I lifted my head and saw a hand stretched out for me to grab. I put my small hand in theirs and they pulled me up effortlessly.
"Are you okay?"
I rubbed the back of my head and looked at him. Wow, he is tall. And older. Maybe fifteen.
His hair was an unnatural greyish white and I couldn't help but focus on it and the geometrical undercut.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I stuttered.
Someone called him "Hey, Reed! Come back, buddy!"
"Just a sec," he yelled back.
I stared at the ball in his hands instead of his eyes when he turned back to me.
"Your name is Reed?" I murmured.
"No- I mean, yeah. It's a nickname."
I let my eyes wander up again, finding his unsettling blue ones. They were nothing like my sky-like irises. His were the bottom of the ocean.
"A nickname? I want a nickname too," I said. "You can call me AJ." It's my initials, first and middle name.
"You can't give yourself a nickname. Someone else has to name you," he argued.
I gulped, staring at the football again. That hadn't crossed my mind. What if they give me some awful nickname to mock for the rest of my life? Like Stinky!
