Presley
I bury myself into everything that I do. I refuse to give my mind any downtime to think, because if I think, I’m broken, but if I work, I’m determined. I find a new purpose in my job as I work with the kids. My single goal is to bridge the gap and show them everything I can any way that I can. I can tell that Zeek and Jodi are worried about me, but thankfully they keep their comments to themselves. When I’m not working or doing school work, I’m pouring myself into my project. What started out as my mission to get B back soon turned into my reason for being.
As much as I want him back, if I’m not what’s best for him, then I will learn to accept it. What I can’t accept is him feeling less. I can’t stand the thought of him not being able to experience what I do every day. The idea of him being in a crowd of people and feeling like the last man on earth eats at me. It drives me every day. It’s been months since I’ve started my special project. The same amount of time since I’ve last had any word or sight of Barrett.
Randy called me once, trying to figure out what happened. He said he’s never seen B like this and he shut down completely, not telling Randy a thing. I told him out of respect for B, all I would say is what he guessed, that we aren’t together any longer. From my sobs, I’m sure he figured out it was complicated and he ended the call, letting me know that I could contact him anytime.
I finally got the nerve last week to text him. I told him I didn’t want any details, but asked when B’s graduation was. I promised I wouldn’t show up, but that I needed to know. It was two weeks sooner than I was expecting, so everything has been bumped up to panic mode, which is why I’m now barking orders like a drill sergeant and why Zeek and Jodi have dubbed me ‘The Music Nazi.’ One of the engineers knocked one of the glass cylinders against another, causing everyone to jump. I was on him in a second flat.
“James, I swear to everything that is good and holy, if you crack, dent, or break one of those, you will be praying for a quick death, do you understand me?”
“Whoa, I’m all for a good male roast when needed, but I think you need to take it down a notch there, love. Remember they aren’t getting paid for this.” I go to cut her off and Jodi raises her hand to stop me. “I understand they are getting a final grade, but half of them are willing to flunk just to be done with you.” She is dead serious and it gives me pause.
“Have I really been that bad?”
“Worse,” Zeek says, coming up behind me. “I’m getting ready to lead the revolt myself…even if you are my Christine.”
“I’m so sorry, guys, I know I’ve been unbearable…it’s just this has to go well. It has to. If it doesn’t…”
“We know what’s riding on this, sweetie, we do. But you need to give yourself a break.”
“Not to mention the crew, you’ve been a bit ridiculous,” Jodi adds.
“I’m ridiculous? Says the girl wearing hotdog leggings!” She is seriously wearing bright blue leggings with little hotdogs in buns on her pants while calling me ridiculous.
“These are totally kitschy, and kitsch is in, so shut your face.” I roll my eyes but I guess they are right, I have some making up to do.
“Okay, everyone, I need your attention,” I yell and get groans in return, which I choose to ignore. “I’m calling a mandatory break. I’m ordering pizzas, and everyone is to take an hour off.” The cheers of excitement and looks of shock I receive proves just how horrible I’ve been.
“Yikes…that bad huh?”
“Worse,” they say in unison.
“It’s going to be beautiful, love. You’ve put your heart and soul into this, everyone has. It will go smoothly. This will all be up and running by the end of the week. That gives you a whole week of rehearsals and trouble shooting, and it will be fine.”
“Thanks, Jo, you know I love you, right?”
“After this? You better name your first born after me.”
“You’ve got to admit though, getting the Music, Engineering, and Theatre departments to agree to let this be the final project was sheer genius.”
“The idea might have been yours, dear heart, but Jodi and I were the ones talking everyone into it while you were busy being Mussolini,” Zeek says slapping my butt, which earns him a scowl. Jumping behind Jodi, he peeks out enough to stick out his tongue.
“We can all agree it was a joint group effort on all our parts, children,” Jodi scolds.
“Well, I’m off to order pizza and call a meeting with all the team leaders from each department.” This earns another round of scowls and groans from my friends, since they are two of the team leaders.
“One more week, we can do this,” I hear Jodi tell Zeek as they walk away.
I chant that over and over for the rest of the night. One more week, we can do this, we can…oh Lord, I’m going to get sick.