Thirteen- Wren

Chapter 13

Wren

The instruments pick up
And the notes dance across the lines
Jump and spin and curve and fly
The maestro conducts and weaves
The magic of the music as it cries

Excerpt from “Crescendo” by Sophie Lynch

Sunday morning. My mom barges in to wake me up, but I've still been putting Marina in my bed and sleeping on the pull-out.

“Wren! Marina! Time to wake up!” I open my eyes.

“Huh?” Marina sits up, the sheet over her head. She pulls it off, her hair is in knots, and it covers her face. I've never seen in more curly. Normally it's a nice, soft wave with the occasional spiral, but these are all bouncing spirals falling in different directions, sticking up, falling down her back, tucked in her mouth.

“Marina? Why are you sleeping there?”

“Honestly? I don't know! I fall asleep in the pull out and then I wake up here! Ask him!” She points to me.

“Sleepwalking?”

“Wren Willard Avery, you and I both know you have never once sleep-walked.”

“Ha! Your middle name's Willard?” She laughs.

“It was my father's name.” Mom says seriously.

“Oh, sorry...” Marina mutters. I suppress a laugh, because I hate the name “Willard”, too.

“Get ready for church.” Mom says and walks out the door.

“Oh, um, about that...” Marina starts, but Mom's already down the hall. She gets up, still in her white tank top and light blue silk shorts.

“Mrs. Avery?” She runs down the hall. I listen to the conversation, curious as to what my mother will say. “Mrs. Avery, I, my family has never gone to church."

“Oh. Well then, I suppose I won't force you to go," Mom laughs, "that would be mean! But if you ever feel like joining us, please just let me know, I don't want to leave you alone... Wren can stay home with you.”

“Yeah, Mom, that sounds great.”

“Okay honey, you can go back to bed, see you soon...” She says uncertainly. She goes downstairs and Marina gives me a high-five.

“Sleep!” She whispers, and runs into our room. She dives onto the pull out. “And don't you dare move me, sleep in your own bed. And that goes for every other time I sleep!” I shrug and smirk and crawl under the covers, which are still warm from when Marina was sleeping here. I bury my nose in the pillow, it smells like Marina's perfume, something beachy. Even with the sunlight streaming in the window, I fall asleep. I wake up to the sound of singing from the shower, Mom and Dad go to work after church, so we're alone for the whole day. Marina must've been up for a little while.

“Nice voice!” I say.

“Thanks!” She calls, not missing a beat.

“Hey Okie, why aren't you more country?”

“Who says I'm not?” I hear the shower turn off in the bathroom, she walks in wrapped in a towel. “I say “y'all” as much as the next girl, I just hide the accent to avoid being thought of as stupid. Ya want the Okie accent? Here ya go.” She says, slipping into a more natural sounding voice for her.

“That's better.” I say, leaving the room. I stand with my back to the wall outside the door, and a few minutes later the door opens.

“Finally! I've been chokin' myself tryin' to stop the accent and wearin' my fancy clothes, I missed my boots!” I look at her. She's wearing black booty shorts and mid-shin red cowboy boots with a three inch heel and a white camisole with a plaid, tied up blue shirt. Then she turns around, bends down, and rummages through one of her drawers, she comes up with a cowboy hat.

“No way.” I say. “You really are country, Okie, I'm sorry I doubted you.”

She tips her hat in an obviously fake gesture, “No harm done.” She sticks her tongue out at me.

“Ready for your piano lesson?” She asks as she walks downstairs.

“Sure.” I say as I follow her. She sits down at the bench and straightens her back.

“I actually did learn some actual songs, I just like lyric songs better.” She says and starts playing. I recognize it from music class, “Moonlight Sonata” by Beethoven. It goes on for a few minutes then she holds the last note with the pedal. I clap and go to sit next to her.

“Okay, so why don't you play something you know, you said you knew a little bit.” She suggests and scoots over on the bench to give me room.

“Uh...” I say. I play a little one handed tune.

“Good! We can work with that...” She says. I laugh, “I think I'm hopeless, maybe we should do your voice lesson.”

“I haven't even started teaching yet!” She laughs. She brings out some books she must've learned from. She flips to the first page. “Okay so start in C position...”

An hour later I can play one song very, very slowly.

“Why don't we move on to voice lessons...” She says.

“Okay!” I say a little too eagerly. “Come downstairs.” We get downstairs and she plops down onto the couch.

“I hope you don't have a Taylor Swift song picked out, that would probably freak me out. You look like her in your country clothes, Okie.” I tease.

“Nope.”

“Good. So you sing to the best of your ability then we'll strengthen what we need to.” I instruct her. She nods and steps up the the unplugged mic.

“So, I'm gonna sing a cover of Holding Out for a Hero. The one by Ella Mae Bowen. Um, yeah...” She looks a little nervous.

“One, two, three

Where have all the good men gone
And where are the gods?
Where's the streetwise Hercules
To fight the rising odds?

Isn't there a white knight
Upon a fiery steed?
Late at night I toss and turn
And dream of what I need

I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero til the end of the night
He's gotta be strong, he's gotta be fast,
and he's got to be larger than life, larger than life...”

She finishes the song. It was actually really amazing. Some high notes need to be worked on, just some voice exercises and it'll be all worked out.

“Great job, why don't we work on the high notes first.” I get up from the couch from where she stands awkwardly in front of the mic. She shields her face with her hat.

“Okay, so start by standing up straight.” She straightens her spine like she did at the piano.

“Not like that, that restricts you breathing, loosen up a bit.” She slouches. “No!” I laugh, “Okay, just... yeah.” I take my hands and put one flat out on her stomach and the other on her back. I push with the one on her stomach and her good bends there.

“Good, now try one of the high notes.” I say. She opens her mouth and sings one, it sounds a lot better, but still a little shaky.

“Better! Okay, we're gonna do some scales,” I sit down on the piano, “I'm gonna play a note, and you match it, and I'm going to get higher and higher, okay?” I sit down and start at middle C.

By the end of the next hour, Marina's voice is scratchy, but improved, and it's 3 o'clock.

“So what time's the party?” She asks.

“Well it will officially start at 8, but we're gonna head over around seven to set up and do sound checks, rehearse and stuff.” I reply as I open the fridge, “Lunch?” I ask.

“Sure!” She plops down on one of the stools at the counter and spins back and forth. “What do you have?”

“Um... leftovers, I could make spaghetti if you want...” I turn to the cabinet, “...soup, animal crackers, mac and-”

“Animal crackers?!”

“Yeah...?”

“I freaking ADORE animal crackers! Why do you even have them?”

“Well, 'cause... I like them...” I mumble sheepishly. She laughs and I bring down the bag. We sit at the counter eating and talking, talking for the animals and then biting their heads off. Afterward, we sit on the couch and watch That '70's Show until 6:45.

“We better get going.” I say, reaching for the remote. I turn off the TV and get up. I stretch and grab my shoes from the bottom of the stairs. I pull them on and lace them. She slips on her boots, which she kicked off earlier, and jumps up.

“Hold on, just let me put on a different shirt and get rid of the hat.” She runs up the stairs. And I stand waiting, I mean, how long can it take?

Fifteen minutes later I sit on the stairs, my head in my hands, waiting.

“Ready!” I hear her call. I look up. She's wearing a grey tube top with a gold floral print and the same black denim shorts and the boots. She's wearing dark eyeliner and her eyelashes are at incredible lengths. Her lips are glossy and her cheeks, rosy.

“Just changing your shirt?” I laugh.

“Well, I did!” She protests, crossing her arms over her chest. I go downstairs to get my guitar. Crap! Stop flirting! This is not a date, even though it was like she was getting ready for one... No! Stop! Urg! I run my fingers through my hair and pace. Get it together, you're never nervous for a performance! OF course not! You're nervous because of her! I snap at myself. Grow a pair! I retort... at myself.

“Wren?” She calls down the stairs.

“Yeah, hold on!” I grab Lucy (yes I named my guitar) and run up the stairs. I grab the keys to my car and open her door for her. She slides in and I get in the driver's seat. I put the key in the ignition and back out of the driveway. I turn on the radio and sing to whatever comes on as a vocal warm up, she joins in.

That sounds nice... SHUT UP BRAIN!

We reach Michaela's house and I ring the doorbell. A few moments pass, and she opens the door.

“Hey Wren! Long time no see! Chris, Derek, and Kate are here. Who's she?” She stops her bubbly rant to look Marina up and down with disdain.

“This is Marina, she's staying with me.”

“Ooh! 'Staying', I get it.” She winks with fake cheeriness.

“Oh, no-” do I wish... “my parents took her in, she needed a place to stay.”

“Oh, sure! Sure! Whatever you say, come on in.” She says, turning around quickly so her platinum blonde hair whips me in the face. I roll my eyes at Marina and she hides her laugh.

“Well, the band will be here,” Michaela points to a stage, this isn't her house, she rented a hall or something, she's kind of rich, “and the refreshments-” she giggles, I think she's already had a few, “are there.” She points to three tables with red and blue plastic cups and bowls of “punch” and bottles with the labels taken off. “ And the party's here!” She gestures widely with both arms to the big room. Around the edges there are some tables, love seats, and couches. There are two bathrooms on either side of the room.

“After the party is really up and running, you can just turn on the iPod dock, my iPod is already on it and on a nice long, party play-list, just press play and then you guys can party. Marina, I'll show you around...” Michaela wheels her away, probably telling her how pretty she looks to get on her good side, which means the good side with me. About a year ago, Michaela and I went out, and she wanted to do more, but I wasn't ready, so she broke up with me. It was weird, normally it's the other way around, but she still likes me, so she's probably, along with complimenting her, threatening Marina right now.

I walk toward the stage where the other members of The White Rose (ugh!) stand, or sit, tuning their instruments. Derek sits at the keyboard, practicing a few different songs, Chris strums the bass, Kate pounds the drums, just having fun with them.

“Hey, man!” Chris says. “Marina here?”

“Yeah, she's just talking to Michaela.” I say.

“Oh, poor girl.” Kate says, putting down her drumsticks. I laugh and nod my head in agreement.

“So... has Marina asked about me at all?” Chris asks. I look at him, practically snorting.

“No, sorry dude.” Oh, hell, I'm not sorry!

Author's Note

thoughts, criticisms, tell me I suck, and then tell me why, PLEASE!

Reviews

[Sylvana]

This is one of the first read requests I clicked on, I loove this book. xD
I like how you gave Marina an accent, I love when characters in books have them because it makes them all the more original.
Animal crackers... I think I still have some scattered in my unused locker at school...
-.- pointless review. sorry, haha. I'm too tired.

[Abbie]

Really Good chapter. Marina's has an Okie accent....hmmmm. that's something I didn't expect.I knew that she was from oklahoma, but I still figured that she didn't have an accent. I think that it's good though.Adds more to her character. Next chapter! :D