At the end of the aisle, I saw the wall of records. It started from the floor all the way up to the top of the ceiling. Thousands and thousands of records stood on shelves. In front of the wall of records was a counter where the rest of our group stood. Behind the counter sat two guys. One with dreads and another with the 2008 skater boy haircut.
“Odette! Wiley! Get your butts over here so I can introduce you to my dear friends Willy and Casper!” Cleo shouted, waving her arm.
Wiley walked ahead of me and I shuffled behind him. Cleo clapped a hand onto Wiley’s shoulder and gave him a quick one-armed hug.
“Willy, Capser, this is my nephew Wiley. His name kind of sounds like yours, eh Willy?”
The guy with dreads nodded his head with a polite smile. “Nice to meet you, Wiley.”
Wiley gave a nod and nodded to Casper.
“This is Odette,” Cleo said motioning to me. “She’s a chatty one, just to let you know.” She winked at them and gave a chuckle.
I glared at her, not finding her sarcasm funny.
“So how are we doing this, Cleo?” Casper, the guy with the outdated hairdo asked.
“We’ll start with Avery. She’s pretty confident, aren’t you?” Cleo turned to Avery her eyebrows raised.
Avery snapped her gum. “Whatever.”
“She’s also Miss Personality,” Wiley mumbled.
“No, that’s Odette,” Avery replied, coolly.
Biting my lip, I ignored Avery’s comment and studied the records some more. I couldn’t tell what each album was, but I had the urge to run my hand up and down each of the shelves letting the records tickle my palm.
“So what we’re doing,” Cleo said, changing the subject, “is picking out a song that we feel connected to and are going to sing it at karaoke night, right here, on November fifteenth. Fun, right?”
“I don’t sing,” Avery told her shortly.
“Everyone is doing this exercise,” Cleo said firmly. “It’s music therapy, it’s the most fun of all of them. Who doesn’t love music?”
“I’m not doing it,” Avery said defiantly. “I am not embarrassing myself in front of a bunch of people just so I can “get better”.”
“Then I guess you’ll be going back to the mental ward,” Cleo hummed.
Gumbling Avery didn’t say anything else after that.
“Ready to start?” Casper asked her.
Shrugging, Avery walked up to the counter and rested her arms on it. She chewed her gum angrily, but didn’t say anymore.
Cleo motioned for us to follow her. We all headed down one aisle to the front of the store.
“So what’s your story?” I heard Casper ask.
***
“Like I said before, she doesn’t talk,” Cleo said.
We were both standing at the counter where Casper and Willy sat behind. Willy was clicking away at his desktop and Casper studied me while Cleo spoke to him. I met his gaze, but kept it emotionless.
YOU ARE READING
Falling Colors
Teen Fiction"The unfixable; the shattered; the torn; the broken. They all come here. It's my job to remake them, because once its broken there is no going back to the way it was. It must be remade." Six individuals. Six unique stories. Five exercises. One...
