Just a small-town girl
livin' in a loooonely woo-oorld.
Yesterday was probably the most epic day of the year. Allow me to state all the reasons why this is.
1. My friend snuck us into the pep rally after the teachers kicked us out the first time. We were left stranded in the middle of the basketball court and ran off to the back wall, and by the time we sat down and looked out at drumline and the cheerleaders who were coming out, we realized we had front row, best seats in the house. It was awesome.
2. I left school early for a cross country meet, which meant I got to pretty much ditch half of chemistry honors--always a nice bonus.
3. And then there was the cross country meet.
The ride up, first and foremost, was hilarious--my best friend of fourteen years sat next to me and my almost-kind-of-crush sat in front of us, and we jammed to her iPod and sang everything from The Who to Journey to Juanes at the top of our lungs and busted up laughing about random stuff that's happened to us lately.
The race itself sucked because it was in over-90-degree heat, but we got snow cones at the end, which was SO worth it, and got to cheer everyone else on.
We spent the rest of our time stabbing the tops of water bottles and squirting each other, having mini-races in the dust, doing rain dances under the leaking sprinklers, laughing at rich kids, disregarding caution tape, and collapsing on the grass feeling totally at peace with the world.
On the ride back, there seemed to be a lot less people on our bus, which was just as well, because me, Serena, and Kyle had seats to ourselves, in which we stretched out and sang some more and catnapped and relaxed. We also pegged "Don't Stop Believin'" as the theme song of the 2009 cross country team. Or the M-Z bus, at any rate.
4. The first football game of the year was just after we arrived back at school. I got there and met up with a bunch of my other friends, and we bought some soda and Sour Punch Straws, got longhorns painted on our faces, watched absolutely no football, and messed around the whole night.
And then, when I came home... Filipino food.
All in all, a great day.
Minus school, lol.
So, Angel, I have no idea whether this will actually be written into the next chapter once I've edited it beyond belief the way I always do with those chapters (D:), but at the moment, this is the beginning of it. Enjoy, lol.
And try to guess who Keiko's mom and Koji's uncle is.
Kyo stepped quietly through the back door and shut it softly behind him. It was what could be considered dark outside, the luminescent azure glow of twilight bathing everything in his periphery in shades of blue. He'd stayed at the cafe for longer than expected--he hadn't foreseen what a talkative group the concours participants had proven to be.
The Tsukimoris had not shown, but Kyo found the atmosphere to be much more relaxed without the two of them; even shy Shimizu had come out of her shell, though only with Arita's incessant urging, of course. Arita herself had chattered enthusiastically (and to the immense enjoyment of everyone else) about her largely dysfunctional family, including her energetic journalist mother and her father, who worked as her photographer--and this soon prompted everyone to chat jokingly about their families; Kyo's head had spun slightly trying to hear everyone.
Hayata's mother had worked in opera for years before making a daring escape from her old life to the United States and returning years later with a husband and her first son; Shimizu's father was a cellist and her mother a clarinetist, and both had inherited generous fortunes from the Fuyuumi industry; Koji, whose expression was distant the entire night, lived with his uncle and cousins, all of whom played viola as well and were poised to attend Seiso as soon as they were old enough. All were fascinated when Kyo mentioned his father and the instrument shop he'd inherited; Arita had squealed out loud and exclaimed, "Oh my God! I know your dad, he's the muscly sarcastic one, right?"
Kyo had had to stuff his fist in his mouth to hold back his laughter.
He shook his head, smiling faintly at the memory, and began to set his backpack on the floor beside the door when he heard footsteps behind him and turned quickly, heart thudding in his chest.
"Hello, there."
He relaxed when he recognized his father; his face was smooth and expressionless, arms crossed and honey eyes staring steadily at his son. Kyo raised an eyebrow.
"What's up?" he asked, confused; his father's expression didn't change.
"I was just about to ask you." Still he stared. Kyo shifted his weight nervously.
"Um...not much?" he replied slowly, and his father's eyebrows knitted together immediately.
"Not much must have been pretty important," he said softly, "to keep you out three hours after school ended."
Kyo's stomach plummeted.
"See," Ryoutarou began, and there was suddenly a frown on his face now, "I called you. Three times. Your mom must have gone hundreds over her texting limit trying to reach you."
"My phone was off," Kyo said feebly, but was cut off very quickly.
"You didn't call," he continued, "you didn't tell us about anything. I'd have been fine if it were only a bit later than usual--but it's dark out now, and your mother is freaking out in the living room."
The world seemed to have gone silent.
"I was--out," Kyo blurted. "With some friends."
"Oh?" Ryoutarou's eyes narrowed further. "What was the occasion?"
I'm screwed. Kyo took a deep breath and answered softly, "Concours."
"Concours?" Evidently this was not what his father had been expecting; his eyebrows disappeared under his bangs and he asked, surprised, "Wait, so all your friends are in the concours?"
"Yeah." No sense in keeping it from him anymore. "So am I."
"And they invited--wait, what?" Ryoutarou blinked for a fraction of a second as though the words had just sunk in; then, quite unexpectedly, his face broke into a grin so wide it was almost alarming. Kyo bit his lip.
"Dad?"
"Manami!" Ryoutarou called excitedly, practically bouncing into the living room, then reappearing quickly with his wife in tow; she took one look at her son before her eyes flared dangerously and she drew in a breath that most likely would be used for mild verbal abuse, but Ryoutarou cut her off quickly. "Kyo's in the concours!"
"Concours?" She looked quite blank for a moment before her face split into an exultant smile as well and she rushed forward and caught her son in a stranglehold. "Oh, Kyo!"
"Mom, I can't--"
"I'm so proud of you--"
"Mom--"
"What did you play, son?" Ryoutarou asked genially, practically glowing with pride, and Kyo managed to choke, "'Die Forelle'--"
"Oh!" His mother gasped suddenly. "But how did you audition?" she asked breathlessly, pulling away and letting her son massage his neck tenderly, wincing. "Weren't the tryouts before you began at Seiso?"
"Yeah, you know, that is something," Ryoutarou added, frowning slightly. "How did you manage that?"
Kyo's mouth was suddenly very dry; he blurted quickly, "Without you knowing," and both adults grinned--he breathed a silent sigh of utmost relief.
There was a slight pause as Kyo's parents simply beamed at him, beyond words, and he gulped, immensely thankful for how things had turned out. Then--
"You're still grounded, though," his mother added, glaring, and Kyo groaned.
And that's pretty much thatttt.
Lol, it sounded for a moment there like Kyo was going to tell his dad he was gay or something.
It's unedited and kind of slow. Whatever; I may not even add it; but at the moment I'm suffering from a serious lack of ideas. However, in the words of my jazz teacher, "I waaaaaaant an idea but I can't gettttttt any--that's bull. Really, Allie."
I will persevere.