Cheshire Girl

Ch. 23

Charlie did the legwork.  She told Mr. C she and I were going to do a duet, but she didn't find anything she liked in the box.

                Once he'd made a list, Mr. C was going to figure out if everyone could fit in for the allotted time we were given the auditorium.  There were more than seven songs from various groupings on the list, including some who didn't choose a song from the box and were currently songless.

                I didn't really care about singing in front of people.  I was mostly just surprised Charlie would want to do something like this.  I thought she was more like me, but I always thought of her as a rebel.  I bet she wanted to annoy Cynthia, who'd gone up to the box and had chosen a song after the seniors.  Cynthia probably had a solo since I didn't see her as someone who liked to share the spotlight. 

                This was mostly Charlie's fight, so figured I'd sing backup to her.  We were hanging out for murder-solving.  Would we do singing breaks?  Maybe I'd get around to seeing The Singing Detective.

*

Econ was boring for the first twenty minutes.  I mindlessly took notes; they would make sense later.

                What I mostly wondered about was what I could do to get Ethan to invite me over to his house.  I was going to ask Charlie if I found her after class, but then I remembered Mom had actually talked to Mrs. Walker—they lived down the street from us!  In what direction, I had no idea.  Mom hadn't specified.  Who else lived near us?

                After the first twenty minutes… well, Nature called, so I excused myself to go to the restroom.  I probably forgot to continuously mention that it was still pretty cold outside.  Winter was being extended until March, which was… the idea of it was just great.  Because I love cold weather!  Thankfully, the restroom was somewhat warm.  I was definitely going to take advantage of—

                Soft sniffles echoed in the restroom.  Someone was crying.

                "Are you okay?" I asked quietly.

                "Go away," the girl whined.

                Rude much?  I was trying to be helpful.  "This is a free country.  I can stay here if I want."

                "… Bella?"  Her voice was clearer.

                I straightened up.  "Cynthia?" 

                The middle stall door opened.  Cynthia's nose and eyes were pink.  "What're you doing here?"

                "This is a restroom.  What'd you think I was going to do?"  I crossed my arms.  "Why're you crying?" 

                She just looked at me skeptically.  "What, you're concerned?" 

                I frowned.  "Mostly weirded out.  I never thought I'd live to see the day I'd find you crying in a bathroom stall."

                "If you're just going to make fun of me, then forget it."  Cynthia moved for the door.

                I blocked her path.  "Hey, hey, wait.  I'm not making fun of you.  Besides, your eyes are still puffy.  Do you want people to see?"

                Cynthia went back to the mirror and sighed.  "I hate crying."

                "Maybe that's one thing we have in common."  She half-smiled at that.  "So it must've been something pretty bad to make you cry despite your will to never ever cry."