The year was 1975 and all I could ask is why the hell did I even let my mother drag me into this? It's too late now, no matter how much I whined, I couldn't get out of this horrid situation I was involuntarily forced into. If you ask me, I'd much rather be at the ice skating rink with my friends and people I actually know! The ice rink is full of all type of candidates of new boyfriends.
"Mom, I don't want to do this. I don't want to take piano lessons and I don't want to dress up in my good clothes." I whine watching my mother in the mirror, she was behind me making sure my brown locks were nice and fluffy.
An irritated facial expression falls across her face, she was through listening to my complaints."You need a hobby, Monica."
She cuts me off. "Going to the mall and partying with your friends and sitting at the park gossiping. That's not a real hobby. When I was your age, I was singing in Jazz clubs!"
"I know mommy, I just don't want to... I don't know." I sigh as she finishes my hair. "Who's going to be teaching me anyway?"
A big smile is plastered on he face. "When he was a kid, we called him Skipper but I'll let him introduce himself to you on his own." The doorbell rings, "I think that's him!" She happily walks with a whole lot of pep in her step, her heels let me know her distance away from my room.
Who the hell wants to be taught by somebody who's once gone by a name like Skipper?
I stand here quietly, a quick prayer is needed before I enter the room. She's going to have me down there with some big fat guy who probably about nineteen and has no social life. You know what that means, right? He's going to act like I don't have a social life. Uh, news flash, geek! I have thing to do in this world. I don't want to sit around with some weirdo playing something that my mama's forcing me to play. It's a complete waste of time!
Deep sighs exhale from my lungs, I 'oughta make the best of this situation. Mama won't budge regardless of what I say. When's she going to stop forcing her old dreams on me?
Step by step, I feel my heart skip a beat out of intimidation. I'm ready to meet my dictator!
"Monica," Mama begins as I get closer to she and her friend's child, "This is Skipper." He winces at the name as if he doesn't like it. Who the hell names their child, Skipper? It sounds like the name of a runt puppy.
He extends his hand out and this is when I realize... he doesn't look like a Skipper. He's actually kind of cute. What is he, fifteen? Fifteen isn't too far away.
"Hi, I'm Prince."
Okay, well he doesn't sound fifteen. I'll push him back up to the nineteen and twenty area.
I nod, "I'm Moni–"
Ignoring the feeling my eyebrows turning into thin squiggly lines, my head tilts slightly to the left. "You know?"
"Yeah, Ms. Brenda called your name only seconds ago...."
Oh, okay! So we've got one of those know-it-all punks. The guys who think they're oh so smart and know so much more than they actually do. This is simply fantastic! Lessons will be a living hell and I will be purely miserable. I can see it all coming now! You know what, I don't think I like this guy very much. He is already rubbing me the wrong way in the worst way..
I narrow my eyes into an annoyed squint. "Can we get the over with." Prince's eyes curiously wander around my lavish home as he follows me to the grand piano that sat in the front.
"You two have fun," Mom snickers skipping out the door.
How dare she leave me alone with the likes of... this lame nutjob right here.
YOU ARE READING
Rhythm is something I don't have. My mother thinks if I take piano lessons maybe things would get better for my musical world. That's where he comes into play. Not only does he teach me how to play the piano but he taught me how to love. I learned t...