I spent the morning practicing and working on a new song. I contemplated cutting the first period. I decided to go because I needed to pass my classes with a B or higher to compete. Yes, I read up about the competition. I looked through the sheet, smiled, grabbed my things, and headed over to Mr. Evans's office; no surprise, he was there. His back was facing me, looking at the whiteboard, writing notes on the board.

 

"Do you need something, Steven? "Mr. Evans said.

 

"How did you know it was me I said, walking into his office, and Mr. Evans turned to me.

 

"Well, you are the only student that comes in super early to work on their music. Now, what do you need," Mr. Evans said, placing his hand on his hip, and he smiled.

 

"Well, I wanted to take you up on the offer about the competition," I said, and he smiled.

 

"You want to do it?" Mr. Evans asked.

 

"Well yeah, I wrote up a song, and I wanted you to look at it," I said, handing him the music.

 

Mr. Evans reached over to take it and sat at his desk, slipping on his glasses and looking over the piece. I slid into the chair opposite his desk drumming my fingers on my knee. After a while, Mr. Evans put the paper down and stared at me with a blank face before breaking out into a big smile.

 

"This is amazing," Mr. Evans said

 

"Really, you haven't even heard it," I said.

 

"Yeah, but I can tell that this song has potential. Yes, I do think that some parts need some tweaking, but other than that, this song is good," MR. Evans said, passing me the piece back.

 

"You think so?" I asked, taking the paper.

 

"Steven, I wouldn't say anything that isn't true." So I smiled at the confidence Mr. Evans had in me. "So We can work on your song today during lunch and last period, and we will send it off," Mr. Evans said.

 

"S- so soon," I said.

 

"Yup, Steven, you gotta hit the ground running. Since this piece doesn't need a lot of work, you can come in during lunch, play the original, and make the tweaks. Then, when you come back later that day, you will play the recording, and then we will record it and send it off to the competition, and we will wait to see if you move on to the next round," Mr. Evans said.

 

"And when do you think that the results will come back?" I asked.

 

"Well, since the deadline is tomorrow, you will most likely get your answer by  Friday afternoon this week,"

 

"Wow," I said, sinking into my seat.

 

"Wow indeed, but don't worry, Steven, we will get it done," Mr. Evans said.

 

"Can't we work on it now?" I asked before the bell rang.

 

"Well, there is your answer, Steven. I'll see you at lunch," Mr. Evans said, and I nodded and got up from my chair, leaving his office.

 

The day went by pretty fast. One minute it was English class the next thing I knew, it was lunch. So I started walking toward the music room and heard someone calling my name. So I turned and saw Caleb rushing to me away from his group of friends.

 

"Hey, Steven," Caleb said, smiling at me. Caleb was wearing his letterman jacket that all the football players wore. It was open, and he wore a white v-neck shirt, ripped jeans, and white shoes. His hair looked messy like he just came out of bed, but it somehow worked on him.

 

"Uh hey Caleb, what's up?" I asked.

 

"Well, I was wondering if you wanna have lunch together?" Caleb said.

 

"Actually, I am heading to the music room because I am meeting Mr. Evans on a piece I am working on," I said.

 

"Oh, for the competition, right?" Caleb asked.

 

"Yeah, how do you know about that?" I asked, and Caleb smiled, leaning closer to me

 

"Well, you have a competition, sir. Nicole signed up from her school. She is playing the violin," Caleb said.

 

"Why are you telling me this?" I said, and Caleb moved closer.

 

"Well, let's just say I want you to win," Caleb said.

 

"Um, well, thanks," I said.

 

"No problem. Do you want company?" Caleb asked.

 

"Um, I don't think that will be wise," I said.

 

"Why?" Caleb asked, tilting his head.

 

"Well, I think they want you more," I said, tilting, looking at some jocks and a cheerleader glaring at me. Man, if looks can kill. Caleb looked back and sighed, looking back at me and rolling his eyes.

 

"You know I don't mind ditching them," Caleb said.

 

"Well, I don't think they will like that, especially Gina. She looks like she wants to cut my head off," I said, and Caleb started laughing.

 

"Don't worry about her. She is harmless, and besides if they say anything come to me, and I will deal with it," Caleb said, and I swear my heart skipped a beat. So I coughed and took a step away from him, finally able to breathe.

 

"I, um, should go. Mr. Evans is waiting for me," I said, and there was a look in Caleb's eye. Sadness maybe? I don't know because as soon it was there, it was gone in just a second replacing it with his signature smile.

 

"Sure, I'll text you later?" Caleb asked.

 

"Yeah, sure. Bye," I said, waving at him off before walking to the music room.

 

As I turned the corner, I looked back and saw his group of friends. I looked at him, and he looked different. Wait, did he look uncomfortable? I felt a pang in my chest, and I started to regret not letting him come with me. Maybe I should have let him go with me. But then again, what can I do?