Daniel Emanuel Guevarra

The rest of the practice passed by with nothing unusual happening. The tension that had been present from the choir for weeks had eased, and for once, rehearsals were productive. Alex wasn’t the perfect team player, but he was contributing, and the difference was noticeable. I couldn’t deny the weird, almost grudging respect I was starting to feel toward him. Maybe it was the way he threw himself into the music or the glimpses of talent I’d seen beneath his cocky exterior. Whatever it was, it made me want to know more about him.

After an early rehearsal on Friday afternoon, I found myself standing outside the school’s front entrance. I was waiting for Lucy and Emma, but they texted that they needed to stay after school to work on their research paper. As I felt the cold autumn breeze and the golden light of the setting sun painted everything in a warm glow, I couldn’t help but realize that in a few months, I’ll be leaving for college.

As I was observing some students walking away from the school gate, chatting or heading to their cars, my mind was suddenly focused on the figure approaching from across the courtyard. Alex.

He spotted me, almost immediately went in my direction, and adjusted his headphones before striding over. There was a moment of awkward silence as he stopped in front of me, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets. He didn’t say anything at first, just looked at me like he was deciding whether or not to speak.

“Hey,” I said, breaking the silence.

Alex nodded. “Hey.”

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, unsure of where to take the conversation. Ever since our talk after rehearsal, things had been less hostile between us, but it wasn’t exactly friendly either. There was something tentative about it, like we were both testing the waters.

“You did well today,” I ventured, trying to ease the awkwardness. “Your suggestions for the harmonies really helped.”

Alex shrugged, looking away. “Yeah, well, you guys didn’t sound terrible, so,”

I smirked at his half-hearted attempt at a compliment. “I’ll take that as high praise coming from you.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke, and I found myself wondering what was going on in his head. Alex was like a puzzle, one I couldn’t quite figure out. Every time I thought I had him figured out, he’d do something that threw me off balance.

“So,” I began hesitantly, “Do you have any plans today?”

Alex glanced at me, raising an eyebrow. “Why? You going to invite me to a choir sleepover or something?”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the grin tugging at my lips. “No, I was just, maybe we could hang out or something. Outside of choir for once.”

The surprise on Alex’s face was immediate. His eyes narrowed slightly, like he was trying to figure out if I was joking. When I didn’t backtrack, he just shrugged, his casual demeanor not quite masking the curiosity in his voice.

“Hanging out with the choir president? Isn’t that, like, against some unwritten rule?”

“Probably,” I said with a laugh. “But we’ll live dangerously.”

Alex hesitated, and for a second, I thought he might reject the offer outright. But then he surprised me.

“Sure. Why not?”

We ended up at a café a few blocks from school, Perfect Blend, a small place I’d been going to for years. I was cozy, with wooden furniture and shelves lined with old books. I had no idea if Alex would like it, but I figured it was something appropriate. Something casual.

Alex ordered a black coffee, while I went with a Spanish latte and an opera cake. We found a table near the back, and for the first few minutes, it was quiet, too quiet. I’d never felt this nervous around someone before, but something about Alex’s presence was unsettling, in a way that wasn’t entirely bad. As if he wasn’t the person whom I dreaded to not interact with before.

“You come here a lot?” Alex asked after a while, breaking the silence.

I nodded. “Yeah, it’s kind of my go-to spot. I like the atmosphere. The ambiance is pleasing to the eyes and I always go here to relax during exam week. It’s quiet, you know?”

Alex hummed in response, taking a sip of his coffee. His eyes drifted around the room, and I wondered what he was thinking. He was hard to read, one minute he’d be sarcastic, and the next, he’d be quiet.

“I’m surprised you agreed to this,” I admitted after a while, watching him over the rim of my cup. “I didn’t think you’d be into the whole ‘hanging out’ thing let alone someone who would enjoy cafes.”

Alex’s lips twitched into something that might have been a smile, but it was gone before I could be sure. “I don’t know. Thought I’d give it a shot. And for your information, I go to a cafe daily, just in the evenings and I usually go to Sweet Melody.”

There was a pause before he added, “And besides, you don’t seem like a total loser to hang out with.”

“Wow, I’m honored,” I said sarcastically, but I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped my lips.

For a few moments, we just sat there, drinking our coffee in comfortable silence. It was strange, this feeling like it was almost normal between us. We weren’t arguing or sniping at each other. We were just two people sharing a moment, and it was… nice.

“So, why the choir?” Alex asked suddenly, his voice cutting through the quiet. “Why do you care so much?”

I blinked, not expecting the question. “I don’t know. I guess… it’s always been something I love. Singing, music… it’s like an escape, you know? It’s something that makes sense when everything else feels chaotic. I was very influenced by my family but over time I grew to love music as if without it, I wouldn’t be able to live life. I mean, my dream school is Juilliard in NYC. It has always been a dream of mine to perform on a big stage. Julliard is something I wish to get accepted when I graduate soon.”

Alex’s gaze softened slightly as he listened, his usual aloofness slipping away for a moment. “Good for you. I used to dream of pursuing music as well.”

I tilted my head, curious. “You do?”

He shrugged, staring into his coffee. “Yeah. I mean, I grew up around music too, like I said before. My parents were always pushing me to be perfect at it. Both of them were part of an orchestra. Mom is a violinist while dad is a conductor. I was pressured at a young age to learn to love music but as I grew older, I guess it just… became something I had to do, not something I enjoyed. I then rebelled and quit everything that involves music and the arts.”

I nodded, feeling a pang of sympathy for him. I couldn’t imagine what that kind of pressure must have felt like, constantly being judged, never feeling like you were good enough. It explained a lot about Alex’s attitude. I kind of feel that if it weren’t for his parents, he would have a different view of music, maybe something he would’ve loved.

“Do you ever think about what you want?” I asked quietly. “Not what your parents want, but what you want out of music?”

Alex didn’t respond immediately, his expression distant as he considered my question. “I don’t know,” he admitted after a long pause. “I guess I never really thought about it. Music was always just expected. Something that I knew but not something I look forward to.”

I nodded, “Well, maybe it’s time to not think about what your parents might think of you and just enjoy the music. If you did music just to please your parents, you wouldn’t say yes to my proposal if music is something you don’t enjoy.”

He looked at me and there was something in his eyes I couldn’t quite place, something vulnerable, almost fragile. It was gone in an instant, replaced by his usual guarded expression, but it lingered with me.

“You’re pretty vocal about music, you know that?” he said.

I laughed, shaking my head. “I’ve been told that before. I mean my mom jokingly said that I came out of her singing not crying.” We both chuckled at what I said.

For the next hour, we talked about everything and nothing. Stories flowed easily between us, as if peeling back layers we hadn’t even realized were there.

“Skateboarding downstairs?” I asked, eyebrows raised. “What were you even thinking?”

Alex laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wasn’t. That’s the problem. Thought it would look cool. Spoiler alert, it didn’t.”

“Let me guess,” I said with a smirk, “you were trying to impress someone?”

He shot me a knowing grin. “What can I say? Seventh grade was rough. And I learned the hard way that hospital wristbands don’t exactly scream ‘cool.’”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Wow. So, no more skateboard stunts after that?”

“Retired early,” he said with a mock sigh of regret. “My career ended the day they put me in a cast.”

As the laughter between us settled, I found myself asking, “What’s it like having a grandfather who was famous for his music?”

Alex’s smile softened. “It’s... weird, I guess. He’s great—super talented. Plays the piano like it’s an extension of himself.”

I noticed a flicker of something behind his words, pride, mixed with a hint of wistfulness.

“You miss him?” I asked.

He gave a small shrug. “Yeah. We were close when I was young, but now it’s... different. Life gets in the way, you know?”

I nodded, understanding more than I expected. “Does he ever visit?”

“Not often,” Alex admitted. “Last time he came home, we stayed up all night jamming in the living room. It was like old times, just us and the music.”

The warmth in his voice made me smile. “Sounds nice.”

“It was,” he said, then added with a playful grin, “But don’t get any ideas. No way I’m letting you meet him. He’s even more competitive than me.”

“More competitive? That’s hard to imagine.”

He leaned closer, eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

We lapsed into a comfortable silence for a moment, until I asked, “Okay, serious question, what’s with the broccoli hate?”

Alex groaned dramatically. “It’s vile. I don’t know how people eat that stuff willingly. It’s like tiny green trees of disappointment.”

I burst out laughing. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously right,” he shot back, grinning. “I swear, if broccoli ever becomes extinct, it’ll be because of me.”

The conversation ebbed and flowed, each new topic unraveling another piece of who Alex was. I learned about his love for jazz music, his childhood dog named Sparky, and the time he accidentally set a microwave on fire trying to make popcorn.

By the time we’d exhausted every random memory and inside joke, the tension that had been there between us felt lighter, like it had melted away without us realizing it.

“You know,” Alex said quietly, leaning back against his chair, “I didn’t think hanging out with you would be this... easy.”

“Same,” I admitted, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. “You’re not half as annoying when you’re not trying to be.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he said, though there was no bite to his words, just the lingering warmth of shared stories.

And in that moment, I realized, maybe Alex wasn’t impossible after all. It was already 10 p.m. by the time we left the café, the awkwardness from earlier had faded, replaced by something that felt almost comfortable. As we stepped out into the cool evening air, I realized with a start that I actually enjoyed being around Alex. He was still rough around the edges, but there was something more to him, something I hadn’t seen before.

We walked in silence for a bit, the sounds of the city filling the space between us. It wasn’t until we reached the street where our paths split that Alex finally spoke.

“Hey, Daniel.”

I looked over at him, surprised by the seriousness in his tone. “Yeah?”

He hesitated, glancing away for a second before meeting my eyes. “Thanks. For today, I mean.”

I blinked, caught off guard. Alex didn’t seem like the type to thank anyone for anything, let alone something as simple as hanging out.

“You’re welcome,” I said, smiling a little. “Anytime.”

Alex gave a small nod, his expression unreadable. “See you at rehearsal.”

With that, he turned and walked off, disappearing into the crowd. I stood there for a moment, watching him go, feeling a strange mix of emotions swirling inside me.

There was something different about Alex, something I hadn’t expected. He wasn’t just the arrogant guy who had disrupted our choir, he was someone who had potential, someone who was caring more than I’d realized. And as much as I hated to admit it, I wanted to understand him better.