Just Like a Musical Read Free Page B

said.
    “Lame! I win!”
    And there we were, walking around the park on a cloudy April afternoon, taking photographs, me – a clumsy girl with ginger hair – and a guy with Tourette’s syndrome . The former was staggering around while the latter was winking at the passers-by. Quite a couple. He told me why he loved instant cameras – it was because of their stark sincerity. A Polaroid photograph can’t lie – that’s what he said. I wasn’t sure I understood, but I was too reluctant to ask for an explanation.
    “Hey, how come you’re not at school right now?” he suddenly said.
    “I’m homeschooled,” I said, inwardly answering his next question before he even opened his mouth.
    “Really? I’ve never met a homeschooler before,” he said. “Why did your parents decide to homeschool you?”
    I told him it was a long story that had something to do with my knee. As soon as I said it, I started becoming more and more aware of how idiotic that could have sounded. My pulse quickened and I could feel the dark blush sweeping over my ears and gliding down my face for the umpteenth time that day. But he didn't seem to notice the stupidity of my statements or my blush or the tiny stream of sweat running down my neck.
    “ That's kind of cool. I hated high school,” he said.
    He told me that he had graduated from high school a year earlier and had recently started working in an upholstery workshop, but he hoped to make a living writing screenplays one day.
    A large raindrop hit the top of my head, followed by the sound of thunder.
    “Hey, let’s go to the movies!” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me away.
    How could I confront him? He was tall. He was wearing black chucks and a badass T-shirt. He used “romantic” and “old-fashioned” in the same sentence. And his eyes were midnight blue.
    I wish I could say that we watched a good, meaningful, heartfelt movie with some quality dialogue and quiet dying, but no – we watched a B-horror movie with vampires and zombies. It’s the curse of a small town – you don’t really have many choices when it comes to anything . But in the middle of the slaughtering scene, he accidentally brushed my elbow, and I felt something warm besiege my poor heart, something I had never encountered before. It was a jolt of bliss amalgamated with sweet anticipation. Suddenly, I could totally understand and approve of the zombies’ behavior and vampires were the coolest creatures ever. Well… not quite, but I certainly didn’t want that movie to end anytime soon.
    When we stepped outside, I was feeling too overwhelmed to even look at his face. He cleared his throat. A couple of middle school kids gawked at us as they passed by. I tried to figure out what to say, but nothing came to mind. It was doubtless one of the freakiest moments in my life, and there were no signs that he was feeling more relaxed. My brain kept asking me questions – how did you get here, who is that guy beside you, what will you do next, but I was just shrugging my shoulders, speechless and muddled.
    We walked in silence for more than two minutes when he finally opened up and said, “It was a true masterpiece, no doubt about it.”
    The sound of his voice was soothing. I decide to be funny for a change.
    “I certainly hope your screenplays are better than that one,” I said, chuckling.
    He looked up at the sky.
    “It stopped raining,” he said quietly. “There’s something so sad about the moments after the rain. It’s like the beginning of the end.”
    “I’m not sure I get it,” I said. “What do you mean?”
    “Just look.”
    He pointed at the sky. My eyes followed his finger. The dark shade of the evening sky reminded me of something, and I had no idea what it was until an elderly woman brushed the back of my calf with her umbrella.
    “Oh, no!” I said, “What time is it? I have to go!”
    I’d completely forgotten about the promise I had given to Mrs. Wheeler. I should have been at