Til I Found You

Chapter 11

Crap. I’m late. No, I am beyond late, I’m suuupeeerrrr late! Screw you Jerk. If it wasn’t because of you and your stupid lunch, I would’ve finished my school works earlier last night.

I reached my room exactly 15 minutes before lunch break. Sigh. I can hear Mr. Richardson’s voice, coming in might interrupt the class but I don’t want to stand here and skip this class – the class that I admit I am not good into. Right Liz, just enter.

I reach for the knob and walk in. Even from afar, I can see that the Jerk was looking at me, as everybody does.

Mr. Richardson smiled and greeted me, “Good morning Ms. Van Hossen. You’re just in time. Please take your seat.”

Just in time? “Uhm, I’m sorry Mr. Richardson but I’ pretty sure I am late. I’m sorry for that.”

His smile was gone. What a moody guy. “I know what I am saying miss, so would you please take your seat? NOW!”

I followed just as he said. Before sitting down, I shot Jerk a deadly glare. Don’t you even come near me.

“As I was saying,” Mr. Richardson continues, “two months from now we’ll be having our annual school party. In relation with that, students taking music subjects are expected to present an original composition to be sung in duet. To represent this class I have chosen Vince Coax and . . . Elizabeth Van Hossen.”

WHAT?! Me? Before I can complain, the bell rung signaling the end of the class and the start of lunch break. My classmates have gone wild and rushed outside the room.

“Mr. Richardson! Wait!” I’ve been shouting ‘wait’ over and over again but he doesn’t seem to hear me with the crowd’s noise. I tried to follow him but a hand grabbed my arm that stopped me I turned around to see whose hand is that. In my dismay, it was him.

I forcefully pulled my arm away and placed them both in my chest. “What do you want?”

He seemed so pale and nervous while I’m talking to him. “About yesterday. I’m sorry. I’ll treat you lunch if you want to.”

“Lunch? With you? Again? No way.” I turned my back to him and planned to walk away but he stood in front of me, blocking my way.

“I’ll do anything you want! Just forgive me.”

“Anything?” I pushed him slightly. “Don’t ever come near me.”

I was about to walk away when a student from our class called us. “Liz! Vince! Mr. Richardson wants you in his office. Now.”

I walked first, not wanting to walk with him or near him.

We reached Mr. Richardson’s office and sat opposite him. Sitting next to me was Jerk, who is trying to avoid my eyes.

“Well,” said Mr. Richardson. “About the presentation. I chose you Vince because you have always impressed me with your talent in music. You never fail any of my exams and you have always shown keen interest in music. I think you’re perfect for that. And—“

I butt in. “But I’m not! I can’t even recognize a tune! I can’t sing or play any instruments! Why me?”

“For you to pass my subject. You see, you just transferred here and missed a lot, and I mean a LOT, of lessons.”

“I can cope up with that! I’m smart! I promise I’ll ace all of your exams. Just—just please not me.”

“This is music, honey. You have to apply what you learn. Besides, you also missed a lot of practicum.”

I am so desperate not to do the duet with him; I suggested another way to pass. “If you want, I could just write the song and have others to sing it. I’m good in writing, I swear.”