Talent Hall

Chapter 5



Lisa got me registered for Talent Hall exactly two weeks ago, bought me school supplies a few days ago. Angelia says she’ll drive me to school unless I really want to take the bus. It’s not really a hard decision to make since Angelia either likes me or really knows how to act like she does. She won’t pour something over my head if she’s driving.

Lisa did mention she is a little anxious about Angelia driving me to school. I mean, in general she’s anxious about Angelia driving her car because she just got her license a few months ago and it scares her that she’s already driving. It’s kind of weird, but the age to get a license decreased by a year. You have fifteen at least to get a license, fourteen to have a permit and I have mine. That’s why Ian stops at an intersections and tells me to drive decently so we don’t get pulled out. To help a driving student drive, you have to be at least eighteen. Something else that decreased is the drinking age, the reason Blake said seventeen. It used to be twenty one. Sixteen for light stuff like Champagne with your parent or guardian, seventeen to get into a bar and order actual alcohol.

Blake puts an apple in my hand and smiles. “Have a good day at school. I want to hear all about it.”

Sure you do.

I nod and whisper. “You too.”

When Angelia starts up her car, she asks about eating lunch with her. I say I will just because I don’t want to sit alone and be judged for being a loser with no friends, but knowing me, I probably won’t eat lunch. She hugs me and stares at me when I slightly flinch before she starts driving.

“I-I’m sorry,” I say.

“Why do you flinch when someone…” she pauses and then continues. “Were you raped too?”

Butterflies clog my mind and that’s when I make the worst decision I could possibly make. “Are you going to tell everyone?”

“Of course not! I’m not like that, Danny. It might be hard for you to grasp the concept that not everyone is like that, but if nothing else, I’ll never tell a soul. I’m sure Lisa already knows though.”

“Did she tell you?”

She shakes her head. “No. All she said was you have a dark past similar to mine. You flinching so much is all that really gives it away.”

Now I feel like absolute crap. Angelia was raped too and I totally just lashed out on the one person I’m getting close to and who’s even agreeing to drive me to school so I don’t have to be tortured on the bus! No wonder I’m bullied so much. I definitely deserve more of it now.

She continues. “I understand, Danny. I expected everyone to hate me because I believed I was the cause of it. I still have moments where I was the cause of it and I’ll always have Blake to make me coffee and tell me it’s not my fault. Sometimes that’s what we need.”

“What if it was my fault?”

“One thing I’ve learned, Danny, is as a victim, we’ll always blame ourselves, but it never really is our fault. That’s what the rapist wants us to believe… To gain power over us.”

I look out the window and sigh. “I’m sorry I… lashed out.”

“I don’t hold it against you.”

Angelia introduces me to her friend, Madison, and then takes me to the central office and introduces me to Principal Williams and secretary, Jaclyn, before she leaves to grab some Starbucks. Jaclyn takes a picture and prints off a school ID for me while Williams hands me a planner and a printed schedule with my name on top with my other information, such as my date of birth and locker. Angelia looks at my schedule and lightly pulls me towards my locker. Just my luck. Kamron’s sitting down in the front of it.

She flashes a smile. “You’re going to Talent Hall? Oh, that’s awesome! You’ll love it! Where’s your locker?”

“I guess you’re sitting in front of it.”

She immediately moves over. “Sorry.”

I shrug and attempt to open my locker. By the fifth time, It’s open and I’m able to put the school supplies in there, hold the planner, a notebook, binder and some lead pencils. A kid with a large red hat on walks around and hands everyone a free Mocha from Starbucks and then stops, giving me a stare.

“Who’s this, Ryan?” I assume he’s talking to Angelia.

“My cousin, Danny. Danny, this is Kevin, but we call him the Mocha Loco. You’ll like him. He’s obsessed with coffee.”

“Coffee is essential,” Kevin says.

I nod and awkwardly shake his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Kevin flashes a smile and walks down the hall and hands out more mochas to some kids. Angelia looks my schedule and refers to a flight of stairs where Anthony is standing. “Want me to show you where all of your classes are beforehand?”

“You don’t have to,” I say, and walk towards the staircase, receiving smiles and waves from Anthony.

Looking at the room number and signs on the doors, I find my way to Dance class soon enough. The room is a large gymnasium-like room. No desk. Just the smooth floor with some beanbags and windowsills to lean against. A woman approaches me and shakes my hand.

“You must be Daniel, our new student. I’m Mrs. Bubbles but you can me Ashley or Bubbles if you want. Is there a nickname you’d like to be called.”

“Danny,” I answer.

“Great. And I got an email about you. As you are probably aware, every student is required to audition for certain classes. The auditions will be held from two thirty to five. I’m sure Angelia would love to take you down there.”

“Is there a reason the school doesn’t let me audition before they enter?”

“It’s just the way they do things. Do yourself a favor and don’t question it around school officials.”

“Got it,” I say, shyly, but obediently.

She smiles and points to a corner with a window and a beanbag. “There’s a tablet hooked up to a window. That will be your sitting area. You will need to sign in on that tablet everyday. Do you have a school ID?” I show her my ID. “Great. Just type in the number and your name and, bam! You’re signed in. I will have some dancing uniforms for you when I get your audition results. The school will pay for it. All you have to do is perform well at the audition and come to class everyday.”

Soon enough, more kids come in, they all stare at me and slightly smile. The girl that I saw with Anthony comes up to me and tries to talk to me, introducing herself as Tammy, but when I don’t really respond, she welcomes me to Talent Hall and goes back to her friends, making me feel like more a jerk than I already do from lashing out on Angelia. No wonder kids hate me so much.

Bubbles closes the door, welcomes everyone back, and then turns to me. “We have a new student. Why don’t you introduce yourself?” The class turns to me.

I take a deep breath. “My name’s Danny, I’m fifteen, I moved here from Washington, and I’m obsessed with coffee.”

“You, sir, are a very smart man,” says the redhead next to me as shetakes a sip of what I’m assuming is coffee.

Then Bubbles claps her hands together and goes on about what we’re doing today. Or what the other students are doing together since I haven’t been approved yet: Hip hop moves and singing. I just stand back and sip on my mocha, watching everyone dance to the hip hop music. Tammy’s a very good dance. Just watching her makes me want to back out and ditch the auditions.

I don’t exactly plan it, but I meet up with Angelia in the second block: Art. The teacher smiles at me and hands me a canvas, a list of class rules, a large palette, points towards the back of the room, directly at an empty easel, and goes on about how he has seen a painting of mine, calling it remarkable. I thank him and head back to my small area of the room. And once again, when class starts I’m forced to say the same thing I said last block.

“My name’s Danny, I’m fourteen, I moved here from Washington and…” I look at my half empty mocha cup. “I’m almost out off of coffee.”

“Interesting. I have a feeling we’ll get along just fine, Danny. Okay, class, today we’re continuing our portraits of someone you really admire. As usual, ask for help if you need it. I cannot stress this enough, guys.”

I look at my white canvas and glance at Angelia’s who already painting. After hearing Angelia’s story today, she’s definitely someone I admire. There’s no doubt about it. She was taken advantage of too, just like me. The only difference between the two of us is she can smile and focus on her life now while I’m still living in the past and probably will for the rest of my life. I’m not as strong as she is. There’s no way I’ll be able to pretend to be half as strong as she is.

Glancing at the Class Rules sheet and discovering we are allowed to listen to music with earphones, I plug them on, blast some music and grab my pencil, beginning the structure first. I get so lost in working on the portrait that when an alarm goes off, I’m not even aware of that or anything else until Angelia pulls out earbud out and says something about a break and coffee stand inside the school.

I walk down the Required Studies hallway and come across a door with a number and a sign:

English I

As soon as I enter, Kamron smiles and waves while talking to a teacher who immediately looks at me and smiles. She introduces herself as Mrs. Bryanti, gives me a textbook, a list of classroom rules, an assignment sheet, and tells me to sit in the middle row, fifth seat. As long as it isn’t front and center, I have no objections. I like this seat. The only thing that could make it is if-Oh, here comes Kamron. And she sits down right in front of me, flashes a smile. Her eyes drop down to the assignment sheet.

“That’s really easy.”

“Is it like a pretest?”

“That’s exactly what is it.”

When the rest of the class comes in, she instructs for everyone to turn their attention to a video while she grades papers unless we have work to make up for her class, and then turns to me, telling me I can start the essay on the computer, adding an “If I’d like”. I know from personal experience that means “Get it done”, but in a nicer way.

I head back to the computers and am stumbled by the blue screen with two boxes, requiring a user name and Password. Was I supposed to get this earlier? Well, this is great. Now I don’t know how to log in and that’s a stupid question to ask.

A kid from behind me snickers. “Where you not here yesterday or are you just stupid?”

“Obviously, I’m not thatstupid. I know yesterday was Sunday,” I say with irritation. “And if you must know, it’s my first day. Now, bye-bye… Go watch the video. Go on.”

“How cute! He knows how to talk,” he laughs.

I roll my eyes. His statement grabs Mrs. Bryanti’s attention. She lets out an exasperated sigh. “Jared, go out in the hall. I’m tired of telling you the same thing over and over again.”

He sneers and walks out, but not before saying the last comment. “It’s not my fault he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

Everyone glances at me and then glare at him. Kamron approaches me and looks at my schedule which is laid out in front of the keyboard, and highlights a code:

DannyC1989

“Duh. Thanks, Kamron.”

“No problem.” She sits next to me and watches the video about Walt Whitman’s life while I pull up Microsoft and start typing up an essay.

Before I know it, it’s time for Algebra and I hate Math more than anything else, even though my grade in Math was always good enough for little kids to ask me for help. By that point, I’m already finished with the essay and watched thirty minutes of the video with the class. I walk towards the door, but am stopped by a boy. “Some words of advice, Danny. Don’t ever finish an essay under class time. Or at least don’t show it to her. She’ll expect more from you. Have a good day.”

I’m totally not wondering who that kid is and how he knows my name as he walks away. I try to shrug it off as I enter Algebra and take a seat in the back of the room by the same girl who called me smart for dedicating my life to coffee. She immediately recognizes me and smiles. I often get smiles, but because of the years of torment from Ana, my depression and the bullies at school, I always feel like I’m being lied to,so it makes me feel uncomfortable, and I have to resort to smiling back like It doesn’t bother me when it bothers me more than it should.

I give a small smile back and then look down at my sneakers until the teacher comes in to introduce me to the class as a new student, and that’s worse than receiving from a smile from a girl or being complemented by anyone.

“My name is Danny, I’m fourteen, I moved here from Washington, and I have an obsession with coffee.”

“I like you already,” the teacher says. “Well, I’m Mr. Brown, and I will be teaching you Algebra.”

I begin to walk to my seat, but stop at a loud bell ringing. Mr. Brown smiles. “Have a good lunch break, everyone!”

My stomach begins to do somersaults as I step closer to the greasy pizza and large food cart lines. I can feel Ana creaking in slowly and sadistically whispering for me to resist the temptation. Jayden walks behind us with Mason, Anthony, and Antonio who goes on about how hungry he is. Lucky boy. He can probably eat whatever without becoming fat like me.

When I come face to face with the food choices, my heart beats against my chest like it’s demanding to be released, my stomach like a pinball trapped inside a pinball machine. Panicking, I reach for a thin, white bag of Bosco Sticks, a small salad and an apple. Unfortunately, the cookie was placed on my tray before I even got a chance to politely refuse, so I have to find a way to get rid of it without eating or and without people thinking I’m crazy for not eating a small, round heart attack.

After scanning my card, the lunch lady gives me a strict nod before shouting for the next person which is Jayden. I flinch and follow Kamron out of the lunchroom, even though I’m curious to know where we’re going. She stops at a corner by the gym doors and a giant window. Before I even sit down, I dump the milk, the slice of pizza and leave the cookie in case someone else wants it. It helps me not eat it and helps someone else who wants it. Plus, if they’re too busy eating my cookie, they won’t bother to ask why I’m barely eating.

I sit down on the floor between Kamron and Jayden who has an all vegan meal. I’m jealous. Ana hisses about how I should have gotten the same, but that it’s not my fault because I didn’t see it. This is the only time Ana’s really been nice to me. She wants me to be happy with my body, but she’s a strict coach.

Anthony raises an eyebrow at me. “Are you a vegetarian too?”

I nod.A boy and Tammy sit down in our circle. Tammy immediately kissed Anthony, and it made me want to throw up all the food I didn’t eat. I admire love. I think it’s a beautiful thing, but that attitude pretty much disappears when I’m eating. I can’t even eat an apple without wanting to puke, let alone eat and watch people kiss without puking.

“You look new,” the blonde boy says.

Tammy smacks him in the back of his head. “Idiot. Danny, this is my idiot of a stepbrother, Jake. Danny. Feel free to rub off anything you have on him. He needs it.”

“She’ll be taking care of me in my old age,” Jake smirks.

Tammy rolls her eyes. “Don’t push your luck or you’ll be going to a retirement home. A terrible one. One where employees are mean and you eat hair in your food for dinner.”

I take my sweet time eating my small salad that can be eaten under three minutes.

“So what do you so you do for fun?” Jake asks.

I shrug. “Depends on what kind of mood I’m in,” I say. “I listen to a lot of music and watch YouTube videos for a living.”

He smiles before hugging me tightly. As dramatic as this may sound, I flinch and take off running. He’s probably innocent. I don’t doubt that he’s a nice kid, but my impulses took over, and now because I have no self control, I’m outside the nurse’s office, trying to catch my breath and relax my insanely pounding heart.

A boy with blonde hair, a red beanie, and light green eyes makes eye contact with me and sits down next to me. “Are you okay?”

I nod my head and even attempt a smile in hopes that he will accept that and leave, but he doesn’t. Instead, he raises an eyebrow and takes my phone from me before playing some music and pushing an earbud in my left ear. “Really because it looks like you’re having a panic attack…”

“If you clearly know what’s going on, then why did you ask?” I ask, my voice turning cold.

“I wanted you to tell me, but you’re a lot like me and don’t like talking. I’m Tristan by the way.”

“Danny,” I whisper, take a deep breath.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

“I’m new here.”

He nods and smiles. “That would explain it,” he says. “So what gave you a panic attack? If you don’t mind me asking…”

I clear my throat. “Um… I have bad experiences with bullying and being around… people who are different kind of scares me.”

He sighs and rolls his eyes. “You’re from Seattle, aren’t you?” My jaw drops. “I take that as a yes. You’re not the first to be scared to death of coming here because of the kids from Seattle High. I have a friend who’s cousin comes from Seattle High and she reminds me of you already, and I just met you. I just want you to know that you don’t have to be afraid of us here. I will warn you about one boy our age, but everyone hates him, so don’t feel we’re all against you.”

My mind just goes blank. I look down at my phone. A teacher walks past us and stops by and stops. Tristan immediately comes to my defense and mentions my panic attack. The teacher nods and walks me inside the nurse’s office. She lets me listen to music, lay down and offers me juice, but I proudly refuse, and thank her for her kindness. She does mention that they take mental illnesses very seriously and that if I want to listen to music during a panic attack in class, I need to fill out a sheet that she will provide, let her sign it and show it to any staff member who tries to tell me to put the earbuds away because it will happen at least once.

Tristan comes in twenty minutes later and sits next to me with a soft smile. “It’s almost time to go.”

I manage to get back to Algebra before the bell rings. Being tardy has always been a thing of mine, but when you’re tardy for coffee, teachers tend to talk smack about you and about how much of a failure you are. That’s how it was in middle school. Yes, I’ve been drinking coffee since seventh grade. As a coffee addict and a loser, that’s my right. The school had a coffee machine in the cafeteria and in the north gym for SIP days. SIP days are basically days for the staff to improve the school. Students often refer to them as Two Hour Heaven Days or two hour late start days. AKA, best days of the year. Aside from the days we don’t have to step foot in school of course. Those days are literally the best.

The teacher hands out a book assignment and gives me a special assignment. That means I have to create a presentation about me and where I’m from. Due next Friday. Mentally slapping myself about the fact that I have to deal with Annie and the class, I scan the book assignment and start working. The girl right next to me stares at me, smiles as if she’s impressed, and writes down something on a piece of paper.

Wow, you’re pretty good at this. I’m terrible at math, but it’s always nice to see someone understands this foreign language.

Thanks.

Were you in an advanced math class or something?

For a month before I moved here.

Nice.

Mr. Brown announces that the rest will be homework and due tomorrow, and turns on the iBoard which is loaded with some Algebra terms and problems. It’s just like an iPhone, except it’s larger. The more I stare at the board, I begin to recognize the subject of the problems, but can’t quite put my finger on what it is.

“Today, we will talk about Coordinates.”

The boy behind me coughs. “Can’t we do something else? Anything else. Fractions maybe?”

“Sure… Hmm, let’s see. Danny?” I stare at him. “Should you guys write a ten page essay?”

I shrug. “About Math?” He nods and smirks. “I was in an advanced class at my other school, and I already know all of this, so I don’t care.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Mr. Brown says. “Alright, everyone. Pay attention to the board.” Everyone glances at me and then giggle.

“This is what you get for not staying silent, you stupid boy!”Annie screams.

I roll my eyes and look at the board. “Alright, who knows the how to solve the first one…” When no one answers, he turns to me. “Mr. I know all of this.” Everyone immediately recognizes he’s talking to me and give me their full attention, which is makes Annie snicker again. I can imagine her watching with popcorn.

“You… want me to come up there.”

“No, I don’t do that in this class. Press the red button on your desk.”

I look down and press the red button. The entire desk lights up, turning light blue before it shows the problem and a graph. The class glances between me and the iBoard. I pick up a stylus pen. Madison taps the side of the desk, revealing some tools for drawing on the desk, and smiles before encouraging me to go on, and so, I do.

I stare at the problem for a moment before explaining it in the simplest way possible and am blown away when Mr. Brown nods, symbolizing I’m right. Thank God I know my stuff. “That is correct. I am very impressed.”

Relieved, I zone out and stare at my phone.

The teacher of my next class walks in five minutes late, wearing a Ronald McDonald costume. The class laughs and says good morning to him with enthusiasm. He smiles and squeezes his nose, but his eyes meet mine and he nearly screams. No wonder it’s called Creative Writing.

“You must be our new student! I’m Mr. Magnum. Danny, right?” I slowly nod and slouch back in my chair. “Hope you enjoy my craziness. Why don’t you tell the class a little about yourself?”

I take a deep breath and say the sentence I’ve said all day. “My name is Danny, I transferred here from Washington, and I have a strong obsession with coffee.”

“You are my favorite student already.” Mr. Magnum says. “This class isn’t too difficult. For the most part, it’s pretty laid back. Most of the kids in here find it enjoyable and relaxing. I’m hope you have the same experience in here.” I nod again. “Okay, class. So today, I want you all to write short story of your choice. Must be at least tour thousand words. Then you canpresent them, but you don’t have to. As usual, I won’t force anyone to to present if they are uncomfortable. Just write ‘not sharing’ on your paper if you don’t want to.”

And you are my favorite teacher ever!

We all hop on a computer. Everyone else get amazing starts on their essays while I struggle to come up with an idea to write about. Then something hits me. I don’t know why, but I think it’s a good idea to write a short story about a mouse named Cindermicia and her crush who is also a mouse servant to a wealthy family, and I immediately start writing. Mr. Magnum walks around and notices the progress I’m slowly making and commends me for it.

I get so lost in writing my short story that I’m surprised that the bells rings. I worked the entire time and didn’t procrastinate. That needs to be recognized. I have the shortest attention span in the world and a huge procrastination problem.

I take a deep breath and try to relax my heart while approaching Jake’s locker slowly. Ever since I made a scene and ran away from, I’ve had this guilty feeling. I feel bad and he probably feels bad that I ran like I did. It was totally uncalled for, and if I don’t apologize or say something, he’ll feel worse. There’s no doubt about it.

He closes his locker and gasps. “Hey, you, um, scared me.” He smiles. “What’s up, man?”

“I wanted to apologize for earlier. I-My behavior was really unnecessary. And I’m really sorry.”

“What do you mean?” I don’t answer. “Do you mean when you ran off?” I nod this time. He sighs. “I’m not offended. I’m sure it’s difficult to live with your aunt across the country from your home, and then there’s always the anxiety of coming to a new school, but why did you run, specifically?”

“I... “ My mind is blank. “Um, I went through some stuff growing up, and I was thinking about it I guess, and it scared me. Along with the anxiety that I was feeling.” Am feeling. “And when I’m feeling anxious, I don’t like to be touched.”

“Oh,” he says. “Well, that’s understandable. I’m not mad.”

“Jake!” Tammy calls from the front doors.

He clears his throat. “Well, I’ll see you around. It was nice to meet you.” And watch me run away.

I nod. “See ya.”

“And good luck on the auditions,” he says before he vanishes down the hallway.

Thanks. I’ll need it.

As soon as I walk inside, Lisa hugs me, and kisses my forehead, congratulating me. My only question is how did she know? I know she wasn’t at school because she works while I’m at school. Angelia smiles and hands me her phone which talks about the new kids who were accepted into the dance class at Talent Hall” Ashley McGray, Emily Daniels, Daniel Colton and Callie Woods. It’s on the radio already? Wait, why is it on the radio?

I stare at Lisa who just beams with excitement. “I knew you’d get in. You’re so talented.”

“It was luck,” I say.

“Well, what does the boy with such luck want for dinner?”

I shrug. “Whatever you guys want is fine.”

Angelia smiles before she runs upstairs to change for work. “Will you eat it?”

“Probably not, so there’s use in wasting your time to cook something youthink I’ll eat and then end up disappointed.”

“Did you at least eat at school?”

“I ate something.” Kind of.

She sighs. “Sweetie, eating so little isn’t healthy. Caleb says you’ve done so well with your eating habits. What’s breaking you down? Is it Ana?”

I change the subject. “I have homework to do,” I say, changing the subject so I have an excuse to leave. I start to walk away, but Lisa grabs my arm. That’s when Annie works her magic and laughs. Lisa recognizes what I’m thinking of and loosens up and gently pulls me to the couch, pushing my bang back.

“Sweetheart, I love you. I want you to be healthy and happy. And Danny, this Ana… girl-voice, whatever she is isn’t making you happy. She’s making you miserable. Remember when you got sick because of Ana.”

“She’s helping me.”

“She’s killing you. She almost killed you. Your mother and I may not have agreed on much, but when it comes to you, I know we both agree that Ana is doing more harm than good. She’s going to kill you if you let her, and I refuse to let you let Ana kill you.”

“I’d rather die than be fat.”

She pushes her hair behind her ear and walks to the computer on top of a large desk, next to a large poster of children hugging an adult. It’s designed like a meme. It says “Lives are precious. So are children. Stop the torment!” It’s a poster Caleb had in his home office. Lisa comes back with a file, and a weight scale. Are you kidding me?

“Remember when you went to the hospital the night your mother was killed.” When I slowly nod, she continues. “They took your weight when you woke up. You might not remember. You weight was not healthy for a kid your age and height.”

“I think I’ll survive.”

She places the scale down on the floor. I deeply sigh and stand on it. Five seconds later, a number pops up and the scale beeps. Ninety six lbs. “Are you seriously telling me Ana thinks this is fat?”

“Ana and I believe in perfection.”

“Something that doesn’t exist.”

“That’s a myth.”

She straightens her posture. “So you really believe starving to death will make you perfect?” I don’t respond. She knows the answer, whether I respond or not. She sighs and wraps her arms around me, kissing my forehead. “Baby, I love you like I have birth to you myself. Like you are my own child, but I’d rather have an imperfect nephew than a dead nephew and I refuse to let Ana hurt you and I need you trust me.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“If I told you, she would lose her mind…” I whisper. “I appreciate your concern, but I have this under control.”

I run up the stairs and hide in my room before she has a chance to argue with me some more. When she believes in something, she’s willing to go really far to prove with why she believes what she believes. Lisa reminds me of Ana, except she isn’t trying to kill me like Ana. I have to lie for Ana because she scares me. But being without Ana scares me more than living with Ana scares me. I hate her, but I need her. She’s my best friend, but isn’t a good friend. I can’t live without her, and If have to sacrifice my health and freedom, then so be it. I signed a contract with her when I first met her. I promised. And I break it, she will surely make me regret it. She and Annie are the worst and have their ways, although she isn’t as bad as Annie, she will make me pay and that could be enough to kill me. Ana already almost killed me once. She will have no problem doing it again.

I spend the next two hours behind a closed door doing homework for Math and the short story in Creative Writing. I don’t really consider the short story homework because I love to write. It helps me cope with emotions, but not so much that I’m willing to give up Ana. If I was that strong, It would truly be a miracle.


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