Drella

Back at school nothing had changed. Besides Jaime and I not being together. I still went to the same classes, I ate lunch at the same spot and still hung out with Vic, Tony and Jaime. He thought I'd forgiven him. No one knew. Not even Vic really knew. I know it was my choice and I stick by it. I am doing the right thing.
I was in Art right now on my own. As soon as we came back I was drawn to this room. I've been doing everything I can to boost my pieces. I just need to get a good enough grade to get into art school. That's the only thing I want right now. I'm not even certain what I'll do once I've finished art school.
My teacher was walking over and started to peer at my work. I swallowed hard and concentrated on the contrast of light and dark I had been developing with the lead. "This is very good, Drella," she told me.
"Really?" I asked hopefully.
"Where have you applied?"
"New York,"
"Very good school. I went there," she nodded. "You have to be the best though,"
"Do you think I have a shot at getting in?"
"I think you have more than a shot," she sighed. "Drella, I'm not supposed to be saying things like this to students because I'm not supposed to become involved or manipulate their final piece. But you have real, raw talent. It's so rare to see," she said, making me beam. "I want you to start your final piece, and it needs to be breathtaking. You have around three or four months for it. But it'll be so tough on you,"
"I know," I sighed. "I just don't know what I would do,"
"You need to pick something original, individual. But most of all it needs to mean something to you. If you can't see passion in it then I know you won't achieve the grade you're capable of,"
"Alright," I nodded. "Miss?"
"Yes?"
"What will I do after art school?"
"Anything you want to, Drella. But art is your calling. Even if you stop answering it, it'll still be there," she reminded me.
"Thank you," I muttered, looking down. I started packing my things away and stored them safely. I smiled as I left but I bumped right into Jaime. Brilliant.
"Hey," he grinned.
"Oh hi," I forced a smile.
"Vic's looking for you. Saying he's got something big to tell you,"
"Oh okay," I nodded. "I'll go find him," I headed outside and saw Vic at our usual spot. He was on his own. I sat down and he grinned at me. "What's going on?" I laughed.
"Got something to tell you, Ella,"
"What is it?"
"You know my pills?" Vic asked.
"The anti-depressants?" I asked and he nodded. "Yeah,"
"I'm off them," he grinned.
"What?!" I exclaimed. "Like the doctor said? For real?" I asked excitedly.
"Yeah. Said I didn't need them anymore. And I feel so good. I thought I'd feel like shit, but I don't. I feel so happy and confident,"
"You should," I nudged him. "You deserve to feel like this,"
"I even went to this club last night on my own. All these people were playing music with their guitars and taking turns to sing,"
"You should," I urged.
"Really? Do you think people would like my lyrics?"
"Are you joking? Your lyrics are amazing. I'd buy your CD,"
"You think I can make it. Don't you?"
"Vic, from the day I met you I said you could make it. What did I say? That one day your talent will take you across the world. And it will, believe me,"
"Ella, if it does, and I'm not saying I think it will. But if it does I want you there with me,"
"You sap," I laughed.
"I don't know what would happen if you weren't there. Think if you never moved here. I'd be scared and depressed and still cutting myself everyday,"
"You wouldn't," I shook my head. "You'd save yourself. You just might not be this far down the road," I shrugged.
We heard the bell ring and I sighed in relief. "Free period," I told him.
"Me too," he smiled. "Can I play the song that I might play at that club? Then you can tell me what you think?"
"Sure," I nodded.
We walked back inside the school and Vic took me to the music room. It was empty. We went inside the store room and Vic got me a stool. I sat down and he got himself an acoustic guitar. He took a pick and sighed lightly. He started playing and I nodded a little, smiling.
"We call for all of those in need of hope
We call for all those to say
This is the day
So tell me how can
You shake hands with a clenched fist
And tell me how can
You bullet the blue sky" Vic sang gently. I absorbed the lyrics. They were so good. He carried on singing and I bobbed my head to the tune, enjoying it.
"Call for us all
Call us to die
We'll never answer
You can't keep us under
And so you'll try to awake
Up from the days that you
Can't forget
Because baby you know
Baby, baby, you're so unforgettable" Vic finished. He put the guitar down and scratched the back of his neck.
"What's it called?" I asked.
"I haven't got a name for it yet,"
"You should call it shallow pockets," I told him.
"That's really good actually,"
"You're a fantastic lyricist, Vic. But I can see all your song titles coming from movies," I laughed.
"Probably," he grinned.
"Have you played it for Hannah?"
"No," he shook his head. "I'm scared she won't like it,"
"If she doesn't like it, Fuentes, she's answering to me," I grinned back at him.

Notes

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