Pillars

Chapter 6: Break A Leg (Kelci)

A foreign, yet distinct sound lured me down the hall. It was nearly midnight, but I was just getting home from rehearsals. Every night that week had been a double, as the main cast was asked to run through key scenes in real time to ensure sound, props, and lighting were all on the same page. Although I knew I needed to get some sleep, I could not help but follow the sweet melody pouring from Lorin's room.

I stopped short of the doorway when I caught sight of my sister leaning over my old Yamaha keyboard I had gotten for my tenth birthday. Unlike Lorin, I didn't get angry when my sister used her stuff. In fact, I was glad to see someone get some use out of it, since I never really took to the instrument. We had both taken piano lessons from Ms. Lindsy, our next-door neighbor, before she moved away to Florida last year. Lorin would frustrate Ms. Lindsy because she refused to learn to read music, but played brilliantly by ear. Mom said piano was a good foundation for understanding not only music, but communication in general. Honestly, I just enjoyed going over to Ms. Lindsy's on Thursday evenings to play with her fluffy cat, Sugar.

In the soft pinkish glow of the bed lamp, Lorin's face appeared flushed. Her voice was barely audible as she sang the words scribbled on the notebook in her lap. It was a rare and beautiful sight to see her so focused and serene, completely absorbed in the moment. Just before I turned to go, Lorin looked up.

"What?" she said, and the moment evaporated.

"What was that?" I asked, trying to pinpoint the song.

"It's just something I wrote for—English class."

"Cool. You put one of your poems to music?"

She shrugged as if she were ashamed, and looked away. 

"It sounded really good. I didn't know you were into songwriting," I said.

"Jonah inspired me, I guess." 

"Jonah?"

"Mr. Redding," Lorin clarified. Her love struck smile explained it all.

"Ohhhh." I did not like where this was going. There were rumors going around about Mr. Redding and a senior girl, but I did not expect it to be my own sister. 

"What does that mean?" she asked sharply. 

"Nothing."

"No, really. What? Just say it," Lorin pressed.

"The song is nice. It's just that there's been some talk around school. About Mr. Redding and another student," I tried to explain.

Lorin sat up straight, her eyes glowed like a child on Christmas morning. "What sort of talk?"

"The sort that could get a good teacher like Mr. Redding fired." I hoped my tone indicated that she was treading in dangerous waters. 

"Oh, calm down," Lorin snipped. "No one is going to get fired. The connection between me and Jonah is on a totally different level. We're not children, you know."

"Okay then." I shook my head knowing that trying to reason with Lorin was pointless. As I turned to walk away, Lorin hopped off her bed and barred the door.

"Seriously? I just want to go to bed," I demanded.

"I want to ask you something." Lorin refused to budge, but softened her stance. "What do you do before going on stage, so you don't get nervous?"

"I don't know." Her question was straight out of left field, but it was nice to know she was curious about my passion. And it was a good question. "Acting just feels really natural to me. It's when I am not acting that I feel the most vulnerable, I guess."