Melody One

  "Grab me a napkin, please?" I asked. I was sitting with my friends Melissa and Zoey. Zoey reached over.
 I took the napkin from her hand. We were at the ice cream shop, Scooter's, reunited probably for the last time. Well, at least for a while.
  "I don't like it," I said bluntly. "This sucks."
 "What?" Melissa snapped, slightly annoyed. When she was confused, she got irritated. She started grumbling to herself. Something about her being to fat.
 "This," I said waving my arms around. I almost dropped my ice cream doing that. I'm smart. Tee hee. "All of it. We're leaving each other!"
 "Well, Mel and I won't be," Zoey reminded me. She licked her cone daintily. "We're going to the same high school."
 Three's a crowd. And I've always been the odd one out in this one, just dragged along instead of invited.
 As if I needed more reminders. All these two could talk about for the past three months is how excited they are for both going to Rivercrest, and how isn't it just great that they're in the same classes first semester?
 But anyways, it would be just my luck that I actually got accepted into the performing arts boarding school, Prescott's, with a full scholarship "too good to pass up," as my Mother put it. I had to audition for it, and I guess they liked my voice.
 Not that I needed it. When my Mother was younger, she modeled in America. Nothing serious, just little things here and there. But she saved all of the money, over two-million (I know from snooping. Tee hee.) and still hasn't used it.
 "I'm investing it in your future, Spade," she would say. "I want you to go to a good college and be successful."
 What kind of college costs 2 million dollars? Exactly my point.
 And anyways, I wasn't planning on going to college. At least, not right away. I want to focus on my currently nonexistent singing career. I'm only 14, anyhow.
 But sitting here at Scooter's, I wonder if I really am 14. Like, mentally. Because when I'm around Zoey and Melissa, I feel so small. Most likely because they're mature 14 year olds, and they're acting passive because they want me to see how most teenagers act. They're just so caring, in that way. Right?
 "We're going to miss you." Melissa said. There was something in her voice, something I couldn't quite catch. I let it go.
 "Yeah," agreed Zoey. "You do know that, don't you?"
 I thought about this. Would these two really miss me? The two that only remembered to invite me along if it was convenient?  The two who always forgot to tag me in their Facebook statuses? That two who smoothly forgot to tell me it was purple day, and we should all match? The two who, yes, even told me I couldn't really sing?
 Yes, the two would miss me. Because despite our ups and downs, we were best friends.
 As I sat there, though, watching Zo and Mel pick at their sundaes, I wasn't so sure.
 "Yes," I said, answering Zoey's long forgotten question. "I do know."
 But they weren't listening.





The conversations of people passing by buzzed in my ears. Today was the day I was leaving to go to Prescott's. The drive was 7 hours, 2 and a half on plane.

 "Now listen," Mother started. "I've packed all of your things, so don't call me asking for any items." She was always so clean and cut with things, my mother. Never wanting to do the unnecessary.

 "I also color coordinated everything, labeled what perfumes to use for certain events, and packed 27 scented candles in case your new roommate smells like she doesn't clean herself daily. Okay?"

 "Okay," I answered. I almost wanted to laugh at the roommate comment, but I stopped myself.

 Zoey and Melissa were standing off to the side, looking bored. I expected them to be near tears about me leaving, but they weren't. In fact, the moment we found out about my departure, they didn't show any emotion, probably trying to look tough for me. And here I was, telepathically begging them to act like babies when they don't get their bottles in time.

 I walked over to them. They looked surprised to see me.

 "I guess this is it," I said.

 "Yep," they said in unison.

  "I really am going to miss you guys."

 "Ditto." Unison again.

 Now I just kind of stood there, awkwardly. I felt like something else should be done or said by them, but immediately dismissed the though. I was expecting too much, being to demanding.

 I stared at them now, trying to engrave their faces in my mind. Zoey was gorgeous , in a red-head way. Her flaming hair was always in loose waves, due to chemical alteration. She claims they're natural, but they're not. I saw her walk into the hairdressers' one day, before her hair was done. Frizz Mania.

 I focused on Melissa now. She was gorgeous, in a girl-next-door way. Her honey blonde hair always looked as if the sun gave it warmth personally, and her body was a teenage boy's dream. But she wore padded bras. Once, I accidentally found her bra drawer at her house looking for a pencil. For some reason, it makes me smile when I know she's not perfect.

 And me? I wasn't ugly or beautiful, just odd-looking. Unlike Zo and Mel, lucky b*****s, I had the standard Asian eye, but one eye was mint green and the other blue. If there's one thing that matches about my eye, it's that they shades are both pale. A weak link, but you take your pleasures when you can.

 And my hair wouldn't exactly be called trendy, I guess, but I liked it. Razor-cut bangs with jet-black hair that started off as straight, but after about 9 inches went into soft ringlets to my waist. It's crazy long, but it's mine.

 My ears are so small that you can't see them behind my hair, but my nose is a little on the big side. I was blessed, thank God, with straight teeth and full lips (better for kissing, I guess, if I ever even get kissed), but my cheeks look as if I have one Oreo in each side.

 But here's the shocker; I'm Black.

 It's never really bothered me, though. I've always been a little weird, looks wise. I guess when you see something on someone on a daily basis, you get used to it being there.

 Like Zoey and Melissa. What was I going to do without them? We've known each other since 2nd grade and been friends since 6th.

 And we have some pretty good memories. Like the time we went to D.C. (they kept walking away from me, resulting in a search for them every 5 minutes), when we snuck into some B-List sophomore's party (they left early without me and I had to walk home), and even when we tried out for cheerleading (they made it; I didn't).

 But those memories made me who I am today. And I'm a good person. I think.

Author's Note

It gets better, I promise!

Reviews

[LeaflessTree]

Super clique stuff! You're a mediocre writer. Sorry, but I don't like it that much.... It's to "teenage hormonal". The idea is original. What you're writing honey is what you need to understand. "Once, I accidentally found her bra drawer at her house looking for a pencil. For some reason, it makes me smile when I think she's not perfect." ~ Teenage ish~ It may be just me that I'm used to adult writing myself or could just be that I don't like this type of writing. THE IDEA IS ORIGINAL HONEY. I'm not saying your a bad writer, I'm saying, watch the wrods you use. Use bigger words, words that appeal to the senses and use a hook at the beginning of your story!

[Singer-Songwriter - Miya]

Hello :-) My name is Miya and I like your comment, can you please give me some advice on what I am writing. I am not a native speaker, but I had tried my best :-) Thank you!

[Daytonight]

I disagree with one of your commentors. This is a really great piece of writing. I don't know what adult wouldn't glory some when they found that a beauty had flaws! I think we all secretly would. If you are doing this well at 14, just wait until you get older and have honed your craft even more! I can't wait to read more of your story. It held my attention which is something hard to do as I have a very short attention span. Keep up the great work!

[Call Me Blu]

Same type of thing happened to me. Good story.

[Inyourshadow]

college not collage that's a type of painting made from torn paper scraps.

That said this is a deep piece of writing using some great imagery and a lot of layered emotions from sadness to laughter regret remorse and comedy. I really love the way you penned each character with a seperate life of their own and kept the story flowing with the little details like the every day places and the wishing your friends would cry. Keep em' coming

[brenda]

lo can so relate to it!:)