(Correct my grammar! ❤️This here story sure follows the Alanna BECK-del test!! Get it? I'll leave)
I liked living in worlds that weren't my own. Zoe Murphy made me feel like that.
The way that she played before the march left me mindless, and numb. Not in a bad way, but that she stripped me of thoughts about anything other than her. Just one, singular subject swirling 'round and 'round in my brain. This was completely different from my usual crowded thoughts. I'd had a taste of what the girl could do to me, and I was addicted.
"I've never seen anyone play like that!" I excitedly spoke.
"Thank you so much." She somehow sparkled. The Washington rain dripped down her blushing face, and I just wanted to wipe it away. I wanted let my hand linger there too. Brush my thumb against her freckles. Zoe made me feel like the boy next door in one of those grocery store romance novels. Y'know, the kind with the photoshopped covers and pseudo reviews of the back. The thought made me smile, even though I told myself I wouldn't do this. Specifically, last night I told myself I wouldn't dream. I remember the ominous stare of that photo of Ruby Rose pinned on my wall. She hung above a valentine from Evan Hansen from freshman year, and under three blue mathlete ribbons. My accomplishments, my failed attempt at being a regular girl, as the underlying truth in between them. She looked down at me almost to say:
"Hey ya' big gay loser, dial down the daydreaming. It ruins your actual interactions with real life people ."
Ruby Rose was right, it makes me so absent
My Aunt, Mr. and Mrs. Murphy, and other parents led the MLK Jazz Band through the crowd of protesters. Signs slung above heads read of anger with this underlying optimism. I was honored our high school was chosen to play at the event, but the whole march made me sick to my stomach. It disgusts me that this event has to happen. Jesus, America. We're so blessed here, why not flip the final switch and get rid of guns? You can buy a damn gun at Walmart. WALMART.
Still, I let my optimistic fist raise ever higher in the battle for freedom. The battle for the real America. But, my mind is quick and easily distracted. So throughout the ready of the Jazz Band's wall back to the bus, I let my brain box shamelessly find itself consumed by Zoe. This girl will be the death of me.
She simultaneously fills me with joy, but reminds me of my faults. But Being on the spectrum is a part of my life now! It's not a major problem, just a crack in the windshield. Or, a roadblock, or the fog that gets in my glasses when I bring the tea cup close to my face. Not enabling, just more difficult. I'm a functional person, just one with mild aspergers.
The aching fear grows a little taller as our group makes it's way to the Best Western. Because God hates me and the jazz band is quite small, we're two to a room. Tommy and billie, Julia and Grace, etcetera. I didn't ask Zoey to be my assigned partner. I mean, I've always wanted her to be my partner-partner... but I didn't specifically ask the teacher. Things just happen, I guess. Being a scientific person, this scares me to my core. Only later that night, it cross my mind that maybe she just liked me.
We entered and put down our things.
"The bus was parked so far from the hotel!"
"My God. I know, right?"
We talked like this for a while.
At first, becoming manager of the MLK Jazz Band wasn't a ploy to get closer to Zoe. Originally, it was a music credit to express how I am 'Renaissance woman' for college applications! But, it slowly became just that.
I didn't mind the extra hours, homework, the planning, any of it. I just loved to be apart of something with people I looked up to. We were preserving heritage for Pete's sake! My heritage.
Grace Simmons was our female vocalist. Her voice was lower, but sharp and quick to catch onto changes in the music. She reminded Zoe of Lena Horne. I had to actually Google who Lena Horne was, but Zoe's comparison was pretty spot on.
Their were other girls in the band too. Billie on Saxophone, Anne on piano, and Julia with her incredible drumming skills. I wanted to be apart of their world.
The only boy in the group was a white guy named tommy, he only joined the band because he knew it was all girls. He's actually a compassionate guy, total spazz, and kind of a hopeless romantic. It's surprisingly endearing how he joined the club just to be social. He's not rude to the girls, either. He just likes them a lot.
Me too.
He can't actually play anything, but Grace teaches him the lower harmonies, and they sound really nice.
But like my lunch group, I can't ignite it. I'm a box duds. 'Crapola,' as my Dad would say. I've got brains, I've got a future, just no connection.
You never really know internal conflict until Zoe freaking Murphy is resting her head on your shoulder, while you watch The Little Mermaid together. She very jokingly suggested it, I very seriously agreed, and now we're here. Zoe is different. I feel like we have that spark.
I liked the loose lines in old Disney films, the fluidity conveyed in them. Its stupid, but I kind of envy it. Im jealous of the character's swift, clean moments; so incredibly unlike mine. I'm
Awkward, chubby, loud - the whole shebang! I've wished I was a Disney princess since I was six, but this was motivated with a self-esteem issue. The thought made me sink lower.
****
An hour has passed and ending ya upon us.
As Ariel danced across the screen, I decided to become little more like her: unafraid.
"Zoe?"
"Yeah?" She turned her head to look up at me, still resting on my chest. There's never a good time.
"Not to make things weird between us, but I like you a whole lot." There it is.
"I like you too!" She smiled as if it were nothing, and continued the movie. What in God's name.
"No, I don't think you understand," i said with urgency. I'm getting scared. In her mind, Was it not even a possibility that I could have a crush on her? Did she not guess that I like girls?
"I like you a lot- a lot," I tried to explain. Immediately she reversed the roles, and pulled me into a tight hug.
This wasn't what I expected. Sure, I love that she's holding me - Oh my God, she's holding me - but this isn't how I think anyone would react to... well, this. I decided to tell the truth once more.
"Now I don't understand," I kind of laughed as I said it. What the hell is going on? She ran her fingers through my hair.
"I'm so sorry, Lanna." This startled me, and I pulled away from her.
"Sorry? Sorry about what!" My hysterics seemed to infect the room. She's catching my virus. She looks at me with mournful eyes, and I stare back confused.
"I'm not gay."
I'm very strong in math, but you don't need a PhD to know that: I'm + Not + Gay = beyond awkward.
Im really sorry to anyone that thought Alanna's chapter was going to be the happy one
YOU ARE READING
fumblings and mumblings //. DEH
FanfictionAlanna and Evan were practically mirror images of each other, and had no idea. The two were drawn ever closer by the fact that each were attracted to the same sex. Evan has his eyes on Connor Murphy. Strangely, Alanna and Connor recently became fri...
