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nanowrimo 2007

Natural Talent, Book One, Day Five

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Back at school, things weren't ideal, but they were the most livable they'd been all year. In social studies, the teacher started threatening us with a group project in the spring. At first, I was angry about it. and then I got to science class, which made me very grateful that Kaycee and I had landed in different sections of social studies. To be fair to Kaycee, she was slowly getting better in class. I managed to convince her to do all the observations and to write up our reports if she'd just let me run the experiments. We'd had a lot fewer accidents since then, and my grade in that class was slowly going up, much to the relief of my parents.

Choir, which had started off well for me became a serious problem when the teachers started breaking us into groups for the Winter Performance. I was only with the entire choir, and with the Women's Ensemble, but I wasn't doing well with either. No matter what the teachers tried, I just couldn't find a pitch. I thought it was kind of funny, but they found my laughter disrespectful. Miguel wasn't too far away from me when the entire choir sang together, and he wouldn't stop apologizing for placing me in such a bad situation. He didn't realize it, but I was actually in a far better situation than I had been all year!

One day, Michael came to join us at lunch with Joe in tow. "So, this is the infamous Lindy?" Joe sat down opposite me.

"I'm infamous?" Granted, my life at Broughton hadn't been easy, but I was pretty certain I hadn't done anything that would mark me as "infamous".

"I hear they're going to ask you to sing a solo!"

Michael's head sank into his hands, "Joe, please don't."

"A solo?" I was sure I hadn't heard him right. Everyone seemed to cringe when I sang.

"Yep, so low no one can hear you." He laughed, a rich, jovial tone that promptly stopped when Michael elbowed him.

"Ah...," I wasn't amused by the joke, and was grateful when Angela threw a roll at Joe. "I guess I really don't belong there, either, but I promised Dr. Birchard I'd stay through the end of the semester."

"And then what will you do, Lindy?" Angela asked.

"Well, I'm nearly flunking social studies. Maybe over the break I'll figure out how to convince Dad to let me out of here." I didn't realize until that moment that none of my friends knew how badly I didn't want to be at Broughton. They all stared at me, even Joe, their jaws hanging. "Sorry, guys."

Somehow, I'd just disappointed a number of people I never meant to upset.

==

While my performing career was becoming a drama, my life as a tech was a dream. I still joined the lighting crew for coffee after rehearsals. They were incredible. Thanks to their patient instruction, I'd learned more about setting lights than I think I would have any other way. In a very short time, they were shouting requests to me for various gels and cables, and I knew exactly what to bring them. If nothing else, I knew the Winter Performance would rock, simply because I got to work with this group of people.

==

I spent the first Friday of December wandering back and forth between the table where my friends were sitting, and the table where the lighting crew were sitting. It was fun actually having people to spend the evening with. None of the lighting crew ever performed. While they were all in the drama department as their secondary program, none of them had any desire to actually perform. I felt pretty sure that was my favorite thing about them, and that I was completely jealous of them for being allowed to choose that for themselves.

My friends, on the other hand, lived for being on the stage. Angela played a festive Christmas tune while Miguel sang. Michael sang by himself, and Joe happily took the stage to play and sing for everyone. Nicola was sitting with us for the evening, but she chose not to dance. I think we all wished the Ducks had made a similar decision. They followed Joe with a number that made nearly everyone in the room blush, and then they passed our table deliberately. Yoli all but challenged Angela with a glance, while Sasha looked like she was choking on something with the looks she was giving Michael. We all burst out laughing. The three stiffened and stormed back to their table.

The night went so well. Being among these people felt so nice. It just made me feel more guilty for telling them I wanted to leave Broughton.

==

My second Stage Week at Broughton came right on top of midterms in both of my classes. Like my old middle school, Broughton believed it was best to handle all major tests before the winter break to keep us from forgetting everything during the two weeks we were away. I wasted the weekend trying to figure out which would be worse- facing those midterms that I wasn't studying for or facing another Stage Week. As I thought about it, I realized the last Stage Week really hadn't been all that bad, so I figured I could live with one where I would spend most of my time away from the stage.

That left the midterms, and I could only hope that i would remember all of Angela's tips and tricks to get me through the math section on both.That wouldn't help me with the other sections of the test, but it was a start at least. Someday, I would find the person who thought up teaching English and math through science and social studies and hurt them severely.

It turned out the social studies was the only bad one. The science midterm was a big lab we had to run on our own. The worst part of that was trying to write my report by myself after relying on Kaycee to do it all month.

Stage Week was far more painless. Because I was part of the lighting crew, I got to sit up in catwalks with most of the lighting crew when I didn't have to be on stage. Noah had to sit in the booth to run the lighting queue. We watched all of the rehearsals, and I pointed out my friends when they came out on the stage.

The drama department presented "A Christmas Carol", which went well in both rehearsal and during the performance. The sets were not as nice as the ones Miguel had created for the Fall Festival, but the costumes were eye-catching. No doubt Miguel had taken over the costuming department the same he had taken over the sets. Michael was playing a very stuffy Ebenezer Scrooge. The character was so unlike the guy I had become friends with that I had to fight to not laugh. I learned the hard way that if you laughed, even quietly, in the catwalks, it filled the auditiorium with a horrible noise.

The choral department sang a variety of Christmas music. I sang with my groups, fidgeting in my long black dress while waiting first for each of my songs, and then for the entire evening to be over. I survived the rehearsal without too much effort, except for when the Men's Ensemble went to sing "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" while the freshman dance class tapped merrily away. The Ducks were on the front row of the dancers, each with an overly confident smile painted on her face. As the group moved downstage, I kept hoping one of the Ducks would accidentally trip and fall into the pit where an orchestra comprised of juniors and seniors were playing. I knew it was mean, but I kept telling myself it was the best way to get Yoli to stop harassing Angela, and to get Sasha to leave me alone about her stupid break-up. She was convinced that somehow I'd had something to do with it, despite the fact I'd been just as clueless as everyone when it happened. It wasn't like Michael and I were hanging out all the time since the break-up.

Except we kind of were because we ate lunch together.

The performance itself was a nightmare. Even though I was hidden among the rest of the choir, I still felt every eye in the theater on me and I just wanted to run from the stage. I ver ynearly hyperventilated at one point before walking onto the stage. No matter what I was doing or how invisible I really was, I just didn't like being on stage. Meredith assured me that the best predictor of a great performance was a horrible dress rehearsal, and I hoped she was right. Unfortunately, I appeared to be the exception to the rule.

Because the older students were providing the orchestration for the drama, choral, and dance departments, the freshmen and sophomores took over the orchestral night in small groups. Each group performed a small selection of Christmas and classical music. The dress rehearsal was the first time I ever really heard Angela play. She's played a little bit for me when she was trying to help me learn the violin all those weeks ago, but that was all. To listen to her play tonight was wonderful. The years she'd put into learning the violin were so clear, and yet she wasn't quite as good as I expected her to be. It didn't matter; she was the kind of student my father would shape into an incredible performer.

A few of the sophomores had solos, including Nicola, who played a soft, lilting version of a song I couldn't put my finger on. Without her brother in the show, Nicola seemed far more relaxed and her playing was more fluid. But like Angela, she wasn't as polished as I expected a Broughton student to be.

The Broughton orchestra took the pit for the last night as the intermediate and advanced dance classes practiced and then performed their pieces, excerpted from a Christmas ballet. I had never seen The Nutcracker before, and I couldn't see how the individual dances went together. The advanced class went first. Dancing snowflakes floated over the stage in their beautiful sequined white tutus. As they jumped and twirled, they sparkled like real snow. They were followed by several smaller dances, each one seeming to celebrate a different culture. Angela danced with a group dressed in Middle Eastern costumes, and I thought she did much better dancing that she had playing her violin.

My favorite dance was the last one. The advanced class took the stage again in green velvet tops and long, skirt-like tutus in a variety of pastel colors. They looked like a bunch of flowers that were gracefully walking and turning in paths across and around the stage.

Angela and I agreed to meet after the last show of the Winter Performance to exchange Christmas presents. I sat on one of the stairwells leading from the audience to the backstage area waiting for her when she finally appeared with Miguel right behind her. I gave Angela her present, a CD of Irish-themed violin music, and she gave me a bath basket that smelled like sweet strawberries. Miguel and I swapped sketch books, laughing at ourselves for having the exact same idea.

The sound of our laughter clearly floated out of the stairwell because we were suddenly joined by Michael and Joe. I gave Michael his present, a figure from one of the cartoons he liked, and I gave Joe a small plate of cookies. Michael seated himself next to me, apologetic that he hadn't given me anything. I really didn't care; I was just grateful to be surrounded by so many friends. Too quickly, everyone's parents collected them, and we split apart for the Winter Break, promising to stay in touch.

==

As promised, we went back home for Christmas. My grandmother had really gone all out, decorating every single room in a Christmas them. My room had tiny white Christmas lights along the top of the walls and around the window. Red and white sheets were accented by quilted candy canes hanging over the bed. It was like something out of those home magazines my mother loved.

The lights made me homesick for Broughton. I wondered if we'd make it home in time for First Friday.

I didn't spend much time thinking about it, or even in that room. As soon as I was unpacked, I sent Angela a text message to let her know I'd arrived safely. She sent me back a text message of a frowning face. She'd had relatives coming in for the holidays, and I guessed from her message that it wasn't going so well. I sent her back a reminder to hang in there, and ran out to find my friends.

The group was at the public indoor soccer field. When I walked in, it looked like they were holding a scrimmage with another team. Like it had been at Thanksgiving, the game was fast, almost hard to follow if you weren't used to watching a soccer game. My friends managed to pull out a win right at the end of the game, and I cheered and whistled for them. They pulled me in for the next game.

By the end of the game, we were all laughing and panting, trying to catch our breath. "I know I told you this already," Brandon started, "but you really are amazingly quick for not doing any sort of sports at that new school of yours."

"I'm not really. Just excited to be back on the field." I explained, my mind filled with memories of dancing snowflakes and flowers. Choir wasn't working out, but to change my primary program again would just be silly.

When I got home that night, I found several text messages from Angela. Her relatives were generally driving her crazy, but a favorite cousin had apparently made an unexpected appearance. Things were going far better for her now. I sent her a couple of text messages: one to respond to her messages, and one to tell her about hanging out with my friends.

==

After Christmas dinner, my grandmother pulled out her old album from when she danced. "Oh, I know you're singing, Lindy dear, but just knowing there's dancing in your school makes me wish I was fifty years younger." She spent the evening showing me picture after picture and sharing her stories with me. The dresses were nothing like what the dancers at Broughton wore, but the women in the pictures looked like they loved what they were doing. It reminded me that I hadn't found anything to get that excited about at Broughton.

==

Angela sent me story after story of what her family was doing every day. I laughed, grateful for the contact with my new home. The home that felt more like home to me than my grandmother's house did. I sent her messages back, telling her about my grandmother's days as a dancer, and about my uncle burning the turkey. She sent back laughter.

On New Year's Eve, she celebrated midnight with me by sending me a countdown, even though I was a time zone away from her. I returned the favor at midnight her time, although I almost missed it because my candy cane room nearly lulled me to sleep.

By the time we loaded up the car to head back to Broughton, I was ready to be home, and to try out another program.

"Dad, I think I want to change from the choir program to dance."

There was silence. "Why?"

"I'm not good at making music at all, and Grandma sounded like she had a lot of fun when she danced." I hoped invoking my grandmother's history would help.

Dad sighed deeply. He wasn't happy about this. "This is the last change, Lindy."

"I know. I'm out of programs if this doesn't work, because there is no way I'm going into acting!"

==

A couple of days after we got back from my grandparents' house, Joe dropped by unexpectedly to hang out. His family had, like Angela's had, driven him up the wall early on during the winter break. First, they had gushed over his mother, and then they had fawned over him.

"I hated every minute of it. They were asking me when I was going to quit school and become serious about my music."

"Don't relatives usually ask that question the other way around?"

"My point exactly," he pouted. "My family is so dysfunctional!"

I tried to be sympathetic. I tried not to laugh. But I failed, and soon we were sharing a good laugh over my mother's homemade hot chocolate.

"You're lucky, Lindy," he said after he finally calmed down.

"How do you figure?"

"Your father is famous. He's traveled the world playing his violin. Nobody expects you to be anything other than just his kid." Joe didn't even bother trying to hide his jealousy.

"Yeah, I guess..." My grandparents thought it was wonderful I was attending Broughton. Dr. Birchard kept hoping I'd find a program I'd like and stick with it, initially pushing me into the violin program so I could be just like my father. I honestly didn't know if anyone expected me to make something of myself at Broughton.

"I've been playing the guitar about as long as I could hold one. Did you know that?" I shook my head. "I love it. Don't get me wrong. I like to sit in my room and write my own songs, like that one Michael sang at First Friday, in my spare time. But Mom likes me to play for her group, and I'm constantly being pulled away to play for everyone else." He swirled his mug. "It gets tiring sometimes."

I smiled at Joe with a newfound respect. I wondered if he ever really had a chance to be a normal kid. He and Michael both seemed to be plagued with the performing arts at an early age, which was probably why they were best friends. My newest best friends were similarly gifted, and I really didn't understand at all. The nice part was, none of them needed me to, either. Angela, Miguel, Michael, and even Joe all just expected me to be myself.

And at fourteen, that was asking a lot of me.