Bad Timing

Dieci

Not edited*

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I felt like I didn’t wake up this morning and I was having this amazing and wondrous dream that the impossible was finally happening. Although I annoyingly repeat the same statement, I will say it once again. It felt foreign and unusual, like the feeling everyone would get if Taylor Lautner’s abs somehow turned into flabs.

However, it was also merely impossible to be discontented when you were getting exactly what you wanted in the first place.

Noah Callaway was actually participating in our project discussion!

Somehow, someway, somewhere in that confused and obstinate head of his, a flip had switch. Well, not completely of course. Since rollerblading last night, he’s been a little bit nicer, a little more civil, and a little more patient. Nonetheless, he still has a few tantrums and was obviously still impolite.

Right now, for example.

“I can’t do this,” Noah groaned, banging on the piano keys in frustration. “This is stupid!”

“It is not stupid! You’re just giving up so easily,” I defended, crossing my arms over my chest. “That was very, very offensive.”

We sat behind a piano in the Callaway’s music room that I wasn’t aware of until today. Because I was a music junkie and wanted so badly to be on Broadway in the future, this room was absolutely breathtaking.  Guitars, a baby piano, a drum set, and a violin all in one room. It was gorgeous.

Noah got up from the piano bench and paced around, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is just not my thing!”

“It’s not that hard,” I reassured. I moved my fingers easily across the keys and let the tune float around us. Then I began to sing. “Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb. Mary had a little lamb whose fleece was white as snow.”

“I don’t sing!”

I resisted the urge to groan. “Noah, the objective of this project was to learn something your partner enjoys. Mary had a Little Lamb is possibly the easiest and most simple thing to play on the piano.”

“I freaking don’t sing, Emmy. Nobody is as musically talented as you are, all right?”

“Can you please try at least one more time?”

“We’ve been working for almost two hours now. Let’s face the truth. I’m never going to get it.”

“I believe in you – “

“No!” Noah snapped.

I was shocked by his outburst. My eyebrows hitched upwards as I stared at him with wide eyes. I was beyond confused as to why he didn’t try as hard as he should have and why he was too stubborn to sing the simple lyrics of Mary had a Little Lamb.

Noah sighed after a couple of silent seconds. “Can we just do something different? I’m kind of tired of doing the same thing over and over again. I promise I will work on it later when I’m more focused.”

Although my first instinct is to argue about the injustice of not having enough time to rehearse a number for show-and-tell, I simply pushed aside my thoughts for now. Despite the fact that he promised to work on it later, I was completely positive that he wasn’t going to carry out with that plan. After all, there were so many broken promises between the both of us.

Noah wasn’t going to escape this easily at all. I wanted to pass Ms. Brayer’s class. But more than that, I wanted to go to New York University of the Arts where I could have a better opportunity at being on Broadway. I put in every fiber of my being into my music – my performance and singing.