Ten & Levan

24. Twenty Four

LEVAN

I spent the night suspended between sleep and consciousness like I do almost every night. But last night, I was more conscious than asleep, and now it's taking the toll on me. I woke up groggy; my mind still rambling under the trees, my limbs numb, floating. Did I accidentally leave my body in the weird state, where normal people seldom go?

Then I feel a lightning strike of a pain near my waist and my reflex gets into action, my hand flies to my flesh as it threatens to fall off me. I barely hold it there but it's no use, I watch it melt down to the ground. It burns so loud, I feel afire.

I shake my head and get on with washing myself as I stand under the shower. My limbs return from Neverland, and they feel so damn young that I almost sprint to school. But not seriously, I just shuffle into my truck, stop by St. Jude middle school as a ritual and ignore Ava as she gets off and tells me that she's going to walk her way back home with Cindy.

But I already know that. She does that on a daily basis so why inform me each day? I feel the annoyed Levan rise to surface and I snap a glare at her. She shuts up and tugs at her bag as she walks toward the building. I take no time, and with screeching tires, I'm off to another day in hell.

A while, I tell myself. Only a tinsy minsy while.

***

"I got it!" says Ten slamming a booklet on my desk as she stumbles into hers. I don't pay attention to the thin bunch of papers immediately. I take my time and absorb her in. It's like she's spilled all over the sky and I'm the stray cloud soaking her up. All up.

Ten is wearing a pink and purple, floral, baggy shirt and very short denim shorts. Her wavy, dark, dark hair is pulled back in a ponytail. She's wearing tiny pink flower earrings and some kind of black thread around her neck. But why am I noticing what she's wearing. I never do it in such detail. Maybe it's what absorbent clouds do? They must.

"You got what?" I say, picking up the booklet and flipping through it. Ten is hopping in her seat with a smile huge enough to serve as a football stadium.

"A role in Melanie's Musical!" she squeals and hops some more. That's when I notice the first page. It's a script. "And not just any role, I'm playing Lucille, the freaking lead!"

"But your mom didn't agree, you never applied-" I start and she shushes me immediately.

"Look, I thought about it and decided that she doesn't have to know. Maybe later, but not right now. It's a big deal for me, you know about my interest in acting. I cannot let crappy lungs keep me from doing things I love!" she says to me, all pinched up brows and serious red cheeks.

While she stands corrected, her mother isn't wrong either.

I think she should tell her mother. But man, no one asked for your crappy opinion, Annoyed Levan says from my side.

"Well, congratulations then," I mutter.

"Thank you," she says tipping her chin up, "I have to pen down a song for the finale where Lucille reveals to everyone what she really wants," she explains, staring off into the distance and moving her hands dramatically in front of herself.

"Wow, that's great. Don't they have it in the script?" I ask her. She looks at me, looking confused herself.

"Well, it was me who suggested that she sing about it so I guess I'm entitled to it," she says, "we discussed all of this over the phone, Melanie and I."

"So, Melanie is a real person?" I ask her. Well I hadn't considered that Melanie could be a person. I just thought it was a name, a brand or something.