Bea & the Broken Record

Chapter 13: Locked In

I heard them talking animatedly it seemed as I sat against the wall. I wasn't quite sure of what they were discussing, but it sounded important. I waited for what felt like forever until Bea finally came out of the room, a blank expression on her face. She immediately started walking down the hall and I followed right after, curious as to what they spoke about.

"Bea," I called when I was close enough. She turned around and waited or me to catch up, walking beside me with our arms swinging together. "What did he want?"

"He asked about the art show coming up down town," She said. "The participant's drawings will be in the window of 5th Avenue. The winner gets five-hundred dollars and a trip to the art institution in New York. It's a dream." Bea's eyes dulled when she finished talking and her face showed disappointment. I could see the crease in her forehead appear like it always did when she doubted something.

"That sounds amazing. Why do you look so down about it, though?" I asked her as we left the building finally.

"I don't know if I'm going to do it," She explained when we got in her car. She started it up and it roared to life, humming softly. "I don't think my work is... real enough for this competition. There are amazing artists in school and in this county. I don't have a shot." I immediately grew alert at the sound of disappointment in her voice.

"Bea, you can do it. I've seen just the few sketches around your room. They're greater than great, and I don't even know how amazing the ones are in your sketch book," I told her. She looked at me pointedly, smiling as she drove.

"You probably never will," She said. "But I'll think about it. Thanks, Asher."

I nodded and leaned back in my seat. "Anytime, Bea."

We were quiet for what felt like forever as we drove to my house to work on homework. I knew she'd have to leave soon and then I'd have to get ready for the show tonight, although it isn't Saturday, Roger decided to book us on a Friday, today, and tomorrow. It don't bother me much considering we would get paid and I got to sing and perform for people.

"Hey, Bea?" I asked once we were sitting at the table, math books in front of us. She glanced up at me after writing an answer down. I could see in her eyes that she wasn't in the best mood - conflicted, I'd guessed. She was always conflicted it seemed.

"Yeah?" She replied. Her eyes flashed between her math book and me.

"Are you doing anything this evening?" I wondered aloud. I had gotten myself this far. She made a face and sat her pencil down in the crack of her book.

"My parents will be home. I don't know what we're doing," She answered after a moment of thinking. If she was lying, it was easy to tell. She avoided eye contact with me the whole time, yet I didn't think she wanted to tell me that. "Why do you ask?"

"Our show is tonight," I explained. "I wanted you to come and hear a new song I - we wrote." I corrected myself. Technically, I had written it all by myself with one girl on my mind. It was all about her and the way she made me and everyone else feel. She was a life support. But I couldn't tell her that.

"Oh," was all she said, in a surprised tone. "I'll talk to my mom about it. Promise." Bea gave me a sincere smile before picking her pencil up and beginning to write again. I watched her nibble on her bottom lip, making it turn white.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I couldn't take the way she looked as if she was going to fall over and cry. I wanted to help fix her.

"No reason," She said at first. "Just this art thing, I guess." She waved it off as if it were nothing. I nodded my head.