Hold Me Too Tight (previously Angel of Music; ON HOLD)

Chapter Four

“So,” Jonathan begins, stuffing a fry in his mouth, “tell me, where do you fit in amongst this mess?” We’re sitting at my usual table in the cafeteria. The difference? I’m not alone this time.

               I laugh as I fork a few green beans into my mouth. I chew slowly, thinking about my answer. “I don’t.”

               He looks around at the other tables. There are jocks, cheerleaders, Asians, gothics, theater majors, the brains, choir nerds, and film geeks. I don’t really fit in with any of them. “What,” he says, motioning to the cheerleaders, “you’ve never aspired to be head cheerleader and homecoming queen?” He bats his eyelashes playfully.

               “That’s a joke,” I laugh. Secretly, I wonder what it’s like to be homecoming queen, and if it’s everything they crack it up to be.

               “It’s not everything you think it is,” he says, almost like he read my mind.

               I’m surprised. “How would—?”

               Jonathan shakes his head playfully, “No, we’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you. Come on, you have hardly given me anything.” He smiles. “I want to know about you, Claire,” he adds.

               I smile and take a look around. “Guess.”

               “Is that a challenge? Alright,” he laughs. His laugh is soft like velvet. “If you’re not a cheerleader,” he pauses, a slow smile spreading on his face, “Sports all-star. Volleyball?”

               I shake my head, “No! Believe it or not, I’m not coordinated.”

               “Give me a hint!” Jonathan exclaims, stealing away one of my green beans.

               “Alright, I’ll tell you,” I laugh, nudging his hand playfully. He’s bound to know what happened anyway, and he makes me want to trust him. “Choir nerd.”

               He just smiles, “Your mom mentioned you used to sing.”

               “Yeah,” I reply, “used to.”

               “Why don’t you anymore?”

               I shake my head. “I just don't. Not anymore. I don't want to embarrass myself anymore.”

               Jonathan takes my hand, “I get it. It’s okay.” His soft smile and brown eyes make me light up inside. “Natalie Hopkins sure does have a way with things,” he says, changing the subject.

               I look over at her. She’s flirting with Beck Robinson, a football jock. He’s cute, but dumb as a post, and she knows that. “Yeah,” I say, “She sure does.”

               The rest of my afternoon blows by in a breeze. I hardly have to think, or speak, or do anything. My heart jumps a little when I see Jonathan again, waiting for me, by his shiny new car. He smiles when he sees me. “Hi,” he says.

               “Hi,” I say.

               When we pull up into Jonathan’s driveway, he offers me to come inside. I accept his proposition. We’re alone in his house. He leads me into the kitchen, and apologizes for the lack of organization. The kitchen is a mess of unpacked brown boxes. The last time I was in this house was when it belonged to Mr. and Mrs. Henson. It doesn’t look much different, but in lack of their absence, it feels strange. He reads my mind again and says, “I know, it feels weird without my grandparents here.”

               “How is it that I have known your grandparents for so long, yet I have never once met you?” I ask, taking a seat at the island in the center of the kitchen.

               Jonathan shrugs, “I don’t see them much.”

               He stares at me. We don’t speak for a few minutes. “Tell me why you're the way you are,” he whispers, but it isn’t a request, it’s a command. “Please.”

               I shake my head. "What's that supposed to mean?"

               “Why do you sit alone at lunch? Why don't you talk to anybody in school?" he asks, carefully, "Why do people say awful things about you?"

              What he says hits my core like a knife, and I don't want to answer. I look away, but he holds my hand tight. "Claire, what happened?" he hushes.

               The way he looks at me convinces me I can trust him. “I-I tried out for a talent show in seventh grade,” I whisper. I don’t want to go on, “My peers…they humiliated me. I stood there. I couldn’t move, and they laughed at me. Amy, my best friend, she laughed too. They thought I went crazy...”

               “Claire,” Jonathan whispers. He interlocks his fingers between mine and leans close. I think he’s going to kiss me. I look away. “You shouldn’t let the past stop you from achieving your full potential. I bet nobody even remembers.”

               “Yes they do,” I whisper, “Why do you think I don’t have any friends?”

               He pauses and offers a smile, “You’ve got me.”

               He’s right. I do have him. “To be honest,” he adds, “I think you’ve only convinced yourself you don’t have friends. You’re just shy. If you opened up, I bet you would find you have more friends than you think.”

               Jonathan pushes my hair back from my eyes and forces me to look at him. Again I think he’s going to kiss me, but he doesn’t. He turns away and looks out the window instead.

               “Maybe you’re right,” I say, but I hate saying it. I have to ask the question that weighs on my mind, “Jonathan, are you adopted? You don’t look like your parents."

               He smiles and nods, “I know I don’t, but they’re my family. Biological or not, they’re my family.”

               I admire him. I admire his outlook on things. I admire his positivity and his faith in me when I hardly have faith in myself.

               I hear a door open, and his mother’s voice chimes in, “I’m home!” She’s stunned when she sees me, and I can tell she doesn’t like that I’m here alone with Jonathan.

               “I actually have to get going,” I say to Jonathan, and I look at his mother, “Nice to see you, Mrs. Henson.” She nods once.

               Jonathan walks me to the door, “Until tomorrow then? The same routine?”

               I nod as he starts to close the door. “Claire,” he pauses, “there’s a party on Saturday, at the Hopkins’ place. Will you go with me?”

Attn: Despite this uneventful chapter, I hope to take things farther. I hate to say that this chapter is mainly dialogue, and for that reason, is not very detailed. Please keep reading if you're enjoying this. I appreciate feedback! :)