Living to Loving

Chapter 27

"Are you ready?" Daniel asks me.

It's the day of Solo Fest. I didn't get much time to practice, as I wasn't planning to do this until less than two weks ago. I look at the stage, my guitar sitting on its stand. "I think so."

"You're going to blow it away," Daniel says. He smiles. "The crowd is going to be bored to death. And then you're going to get up there. And you're going to light the stage up. Every head will be turned. All eyes will be on you. And you'll sing like Ariana Grande. And then everyone will start clapping and throwing flowers and everything. It'll be glorious."

I laugh a little. "I highly doubt that."

"I don't," Daniel smiles at me and brushes his fingers along my chin. His eyes look dreamy. "You're so amazing."

I touch his wrist lightly and smile. "I love you."

"I love you too," Daniel says, smiling softly.

I flex my hands and close them into fists. My parents made me leave Roxy at home just this once or I'd be running them through her fur. Students from all over swarmed around us. I cracked my knuckles, looking around me.

"So many people," I whisper.

"It'll be okay," Daniel says encouragingly. "Ignore them. Don't pay them any attention. They're not important. Only you. Okay?"

I look down and find my hand fingering the nonexistent strings of my guitar. I clench my hand into a fist, forcing it to stop.

"No," Daniel says, unraveling my hand. "Don't fight that. If it helps you handle all of the people, do it. Whatever helps you."

I nod, my fingers twitching. The need for stims was part of PDD. It calmed my anxiety when I was nervous. The only difference is I'm not usually aware when it starts, and it's really hard to stop.

"Hello everyone," a lady said through the microphone.

I looked up, letting my fingers return to fingering strings.

"I'm going to go now," Daniel says, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. "I'll see you later?"

I nod. "Yeah. Bye."

Then he's gone.

"I'm so thankful to all the participants for being here," the lady says. "I know we had a few drop out for some unexpected reasons, but I'm glad you're all here. I'm Miss Rivera, the director of the competition. I would like all of our competitors to come to the front row so I can tell you where to sit."

She pushed the microphone back into the stand and walked down the stairs while everyone made their way to the front.

She pointed to the first seat. "Emma Smith." She pointed to the next. "Elijah Davis." And the next. "Bella Young, Savannah Vaughn, Gemma Caddel..."

The rest of the names are a blur as I sit down. My hands shook.

"Hi," the girl beside me says.

I looked away. "Hi," I say quietly.

"It's Gemma, right?" The girl- Savannah said.

I nod. My tongue feels like it's tied. I want to speak, but it's like my nervous system has decided to shut off.

"What instrument do you play?" Savannah asks. Her blue eyes watch me intently.

I look at my lap. I stil can't force myself to speak. My hands shake. Automatically, they start fingering the strings again.

Savannah watches my hand. "So you play guitar?"

I nod incoherently. The lights dim and the spotlight zeroes in on Miss Rivera. I'm thankful for it, because it means I don't have to talk to Savannah anymore. It's not that I don't like her, she seems okay, but social situations are not my forte.