It was unseasonably warmer on this day. Perhaps the weather was being nice considering today was Milo's birthday. I was glad to be spending the day with him after seeing how down he looked over video chat. I know that practicing our music for band would also get his mind off of things.
I walked up the steps to Milo's house, texting him that I was downstairs. It wasn't long until he opened the front door. He had a huge smile on his face.
"Hey, Scout," Milo greeted me. His smile made me smile. Seeing Milo always made me smile. "Thanks for coming."
"Of course, it's your birthday," I said, walking into Milo's house. I reached in my bookbag and grabbed the small box. Milo looked confused.
"Scout," he said as he looked at the box in my hand. "You didn't have to get me anything."
"I wanted to," I said, handing the box to him. "It's only your birthday once a year." Milo looked at the box and slowly lift the box up. He smiled once he saw the homemade beaded bracelet.
"This is dope!" Milo said as he took the bracelet out. "You made this?" I nodded my head as he looked at me. He smiled and immediately gave me a hug. My face got really hot. "Thank you, Scout."
"You're welcome," I said as I hugged him back. He gave the best hugs. We finally let each other go as Milo opened the door to the rehearsal room. Milo closed the door behind us once we both entered.
"You ready for the show next week?" Milo asked as he grabbed his binder from the bag on the ground.
"I'm always nervous about these shows," I said, taking my violin out of its case. "I've accepted that the strings section always has to fight extra hard to get the audience to listen to us play." I had to admit it; I slowly felt my passion for music slip through my fingers the more we did these performances. It's disappointing that I've allowed the opinions of others really take away my love for the violin. I'm disappointed I've allowed my own opinions of my father ruin the violin for me.
"Hey," Milo said before putting his hand on my shoulder. "You do know that the strings are just as important, right?"
"I guess," I answered, getting my binder out of my bag.
"It is," Milo sternly said. "My parents were both in the strings section when they were at Waverly." I looked up at Milo. This is the first time hearing about this.
"Are you just saying that to make me feel better?" I asked, half teasing Milo but also being serious at the same time.
"No, I'm serious," he continued to say, clearly telling the truth. His face was stoic. "That's how my dad met my mom. They were both violinists in the ensemble."
"I don't take your father as the violinist type," I said, trying to picture it. "And wasn't he a dual major?"
"First of its kind at Waverly," Milo added, sitting on the ground with his legs crossed. I followed him, also sitting on the ground across from him. "My mom wasn't, but she was, like, the valedictorian of their grade." I nodded my head as Milo spoke. I was always nervous whenever he spoke about his biological mum. From what he has told me in the past, his mum didn't make it to her graduation day. She passed away just days after she had Milo.
"I bet the strings section was super popular when they were in it," I commented, wondering how did it become what its become nowadays.
"They were the underdogs," Milo added. "The vocal program was the most popular program at Waverly. He would always tell me how the vocal program was more so a popularity contest than talent. Jennifer was in the vocal program."
"Isn't she a dance teacher though?" I asked, trying to piece together the complexity of Milo's family. Milo smirked as if I already knew the answer to my own question.
"Exactly," Milo simply said. I leaned back as I looked at Milo. She was suppose to be a dual major too.
"So what happened?" I asked. "How did the strings go from being the best in Waverly to the laughing stock?"
"That I don't know," Milo started to answer. "But you have time to make it great again." He leaned forward; it was like I saw the stars light up in his eyes when he looked at me. "You are the only girl in the string section, and you always know your music and you're super fucking smart. Once you start believing in your abilities, more people will pay attention."
"Is that what you do?" I asked, teasing more than seriously asking.
"Yes," Milo answered honestly. "I honestly don't think I'm that much greater than those in our band class and in my vocal class. Dual major is just a fancy word that means faking it 'til you make it."
"Stop," I immediately said. "Milo, you're super talented. You are so deserving of your status."
"Scout, you're a better musician than me. Mollie's a better vocalist than me. Shit, sometimes I believe Aaron is a better--"
"Stop," I said, now more stern. "I will not allow you to talk down on yourself on your birthday of all days. Aren't we all our worst critics? Why can't we just tell ourselves the things we tell those we care about? Life would be much easier if we just accepted the fact that we are all deserving of the good things we have." Milo smiled as I spoke. I couldn't help but sigh and think about Milo's words. You're a better musician than me.
"Whatcha thinking about?" Milo asked. I shook my head, looking around as I came out of deep thought. "And don't say nothing because I know when you're so deep into thought that you're literally in outer space." I faintly smiled, still shocked that Milo has known me long enough to pick up these random things about me.
"My father was the one that encouraged me to keep playing," I said, looking down at the ground, fidgeting with my hair. "My mum wanted me to do something more practical, like become a lawyer or a doctor or some sort of researcher. They used to bicker with each other, trying to convince the other what I should go and study as I got older." As I spoke, I began to replay all of those moments in my head; when my family was actually whole back in the UK. "When my father went to prison, I was ultimately going to give music up. It just... reminded me too much of him and it was painful to continue doing something I used to do with him."
"What changed your mind?" Milo asked, eyes locked onto me as I spoke. What made me change my mind? Waverly wasn't my first choice of school despite knowing how great their performing arts programs were. I know for a fact that if my father was around when it came time to choosing high schools, Waverly would've been one. I would've practiced different level of pieces to show the admissions committee by diversity, I would've made sure my music was memorized, and I would've made auditioning for Waverly a bigger deal than I actually did. But even after all of that, what made me change my mind?
"You did," I said out loud to Milo. "When we were doing our exit project and we went to The Den for the first time. I guess you were just so persuasive," I added just to tease him. I laughed as he smiled.
"You auditioned for Waverly because of me?" he asked as if he didn't believe me. I nodded my head.
"Yeah," I softly said. "I guess in a way... you've helped me rediscover my love for music again. Some of my happiest moments are just sitting around with you and rehearsing. You make it feel exciting and inspirational, so it bothers me when you say that you don't think you're good enough because--" I stopped myself short. I looked at Milo, not realizing that he was looking directly at me as I spoke. "I think you're more than good. You're great."
"That means a lot, Scout," Milo said, smiling. I smiled back, finally letting out a deep breath. I took Milo's music binder, flipping through the various pages of music. He got up from the ground. "So what piece do you want to practice?" He asked. I flipped through the pages, trying to see which of the songs would be best for us to practice as Milo walked over to get our instrument cases. I flipped to a page with Milo's handwriting on it with words accompanying some music notes on a staff. "Stay for tonight / if you want to / I can show you / what my dreams are made of / as I'm dreaming of your face." As I continued to read it, I heard Milo call out my name. "Scout?"
"Huh?" I looked up as Milo stood in front of me. He looked down at his binder and immediately tried to take it from me. "Whoa, whoa! Wait!"
"That's nothing," Milo quickly answered, getting red in the face.
"I didn't ask what it was," I said, crossing my arms along my chest. "So clearly it's something. You write your own music?" I asked.
"Not seriously," Milo answered, flipping away from the page. I tried to flip it back while he kept shooting me away.
"I wanna hear it!" I said excitingly. "I want to be the first to hear a Milo Kamalani original."
"Scout, it's really not that good," Milo debated. "It shouldn't have even been in this binder in the first place--"
"Milo," I walked in front of him, now looking at his face. "From what I read before you got all 'it's nothing', it was really poetic." Milo didn't say anything back, but he definitely was in deep thought. "Looks like you're the one now in deep thought." I teased. Milo snapped out of it, smiling at me.
"I... wasn't expecting to ever sing this," Milo said, looking down at the binder. "I don't even know if I remember the chords; it's been so long--"
"Then just read it to me," I suggested. "Like a poem." Milo took a moment to look away from me. He sighed, looking down at the binder again.
"Stay for tonight if you want to," Milo began reciting the words. "I can show you what my dreams are made of as I'm dreaming of your face." Milo briefly stopped and hums to himself as if he was remembering the chords to the song. He's totally putting them together in his head. "How the hell did you ever pick me," Milo started to read the page again; this time singing the words out loud as lyrics. "Honestly, I could sign you a song, but I don't think words can express your beauty..." He looked up at me once more, confidently singing the lyrics, remembering how they went. "They say that love is forever; your forever is all that I need," Milo locks his eyes with mine and it was in this moment I felt that feeling I was afraid of ever feeling again. This time, it felt right. It felt good.
The feeling that I knew I was falling hard for Milo Kamalani.
"Can't promise that things won't be broken, but I swear that I will never leave," he continued to sing. "Please stay forever with me." He sighed when he stopped, as if he was nervous about what I was going to say. To be quite honest, I didn't have any words to say; he had summed them all up perfectly in a song that he thought wasn't good enough for me to hear.
All I could say--or rather do-- in this moment was gently kiss him.
I felt him hesitate as soon as I kissed him, but he immediately relaxed once I did. Kissing him this time around was different; it felt natural. All of the other times nearly felt like mistakes; we never spoke about them and pretended as if they never happened but this kiss felt like it was supposed to happen. I couldn't deny how I felt about Milo anymore; I knew for a long time I liked him. But to feel this sense of possibly falling for him was scary. Maybe that's why I pretended nothing was happening between us; maybe I knew I would fall for this boy eventually.
And eventually, it came.
Milo continued to kiss me, caressing my neck with his hand as the deep began to get deeper. I knew I should've stopped it before it got too intense, but I simply did not want to experience another moment when I wasn't kissing his lips. It was intoxicating, and I felt myself wanting more the longer we kissed. I took my hoodie off, feeling hot in my skin. Milo stopped the kiss, watching me take it off. Dammit. I looked at him as he looked at me, hoping he was able to read the expression on my face: "why did you stop?"
"I'm sorry--" I quickly said, beginning to regret even getting kissing him in the first place. Before that thought even began to stick onto my brain, Milo placed his lips on mine once more, kissing me harder. His skin was hot to the touch, noticing his sweater was still on his body. I don't know what came over me, but I wanted my hands to touch his skin and sink into it as if it was hot lava. I began to tug at his sweater to remove it, but it wasn't long until he took the entire thing off himself. Our skin was touching, our lips were touching; what was to become of this moment?
I didn't care. All I know is that this was as honest and open I've been since developing these feelings for Milo. Are we... falling for each other?
Milo's 15th birthday was the day that we changed. It was the day that I knew I won't ever forget, even if later in life we'd go out separate ways. It has now become a part of my story; one that I truly did not expect.
I quickly broke off the kiss once I heard the door of the rehearsal room open, which made Milo turn around. I grabbed my hoodie off from the ground, running to hide behind a pile of yoga mats at the corner.
"Dad! Jennifer! It's not what it looks like!" Milo quickly spat out, completely now in panic mode.
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