• The hall was silent except for a muffled cough or a sneeze that couldn’t be compressed time to time from the fidgeting audience. All 6,800 seats were filled. Everyone’s gaze was on a calm-looking girl walking steadily to the middle of the stage, holding a guitar. No one knew that she was actually full of nervous energy. Or that she was clutching her guitar so tightly that her knuckles had long ago turned white. Using her fingers to pluck the strings, the first note rang through the hall. Mothers stop fussing over their perfectly fine hair, fathers stop jabbering on the cell phones, and teenagers removed their ear-pieces which were blasting some ridiculous heavy metal screaming. And they listened. They were silently enjoying it, of course. But they didn’t notice that she glanced around the hall ever so often, searching for him.
    Fingers automatically plucking the right notes, she looked up and glanced around casually again. He isn’t coming. She brushed back a lock of her dark, silky hair and tucked it behind her ear. She closed her eyes as a teardrop rolled down her face, leaving a moist trail behind. He isn’t coming.


    Claire Spender ran her fingers through her hair for the tenth time today. She turned to her locker and punched the code again. She was standing idly in front of her locker for more than an hour. Afternoon classes were starting in five minutes. Where is Drew? Grumbling under her breath, she jerked the door of her locker opened. Immediately, her books sprang out and hit her in the face. Rubbing her swollen face, Claire swore, “Great. And I’m paying twenty-five bucks a month for this.”

    “Here, let me help you,” a male voice chuckled. Drew.

    She blushed. God. She hated the warm flush that was slowly creeping down her cheeks from her ears. Her dad had half-dragged her to LA a few years ago when he had this major promotion and got her to study here. When she went to the school in the town for the first time, Drew was the first friend she had. Since then, she had a major crush on Drew. Nodding her head, she grabbed some of her books and dumped them inside her locker. She hoped she looked okay. Just to be sure, Claire tugged at her collar of her tee and fingered a few loose strands of her hair nervously.

    Drew handed her a book.

    “So, where did you go?” Claire smiled, her voice carrying a surprisingly fake cheerful tone. The smiles, the cheerful tones, were all pretense. It was hard to be hopping mad at someone inside and smile at the person outside at the same time. But Claire was willing to do that for Drew.

    “Oh. I went to a football match. And I can tell you; the people there don’t go there to watch the guys play football, they go there for the free hotdogs.”
    Claire laughed. Students passing by shot her dirty looks but she ignored them.
    “And this time, there was this cute girl there. She’s from our school… her name’s Sandy... really like her… got the right girl this time… gonna ask her out...”

    Claire wasn’t really listening. She was just nodding her head now and then to look as if she was listening. Football… Hotdogs… Sandy. WHAT? SANDY? Claire’s jaw dropped.

    “Classes are starting now! See you later, Spender!” Drew said abruptly as if he had noticed Claire's reaction and walked off to his homeroom. Claire sighed and slammed her locker shut. Sandy must be really that beautiful. And that was what pathetic Claire Spender had on her mind for the rest of the day.


    How can Drew always look so perfect? Claire sighed as she watched Drew walked past her. Tearing her gaze away from Drew, she continued checking her science notes while breathing faster than normal. Drew always gave her breathing problems when he was around.
    Feeling her breathing rate getting back to normal, Claire wished that she could tell Drew that she liked him. Confessing was downright embarrassing and Claire wasn’t prepared for a rejection to be thrown straight to her face. Currently, she preferred drawing little hearts on top of her ‘i’s and imagining wedding scenes. Just then, she smiled. She could write a love song. Drew would not hear it being played anyway.
    Picking up a pen, she began to write and mumble:

    Drew looks at me, I fake a smile so he won’t see...

    Minutes ticked by, students said Good-Bye or The Day Is Finally Over. Or something vulgar to express the joy of ending school.

    Completing the whole song, she read it over and congratulated herself. Smiling, she looked at the clock. She must be the only one still in school at that time. Humming, she swung her bag over her shoulder and ran to her car.


    “Drew!” Claire grabbed the sleeve of his shirt. She finally got hold of him. He was avoiding her in school and ignoring her calls this few weeks.

    “Erm…ah…I…you…,” Drew stammered. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else than to be with her.

    Claire frowned and told Drew that she just wanted to invite him to go to the hall on the 24th as she was performing a musical piece.
    Drew looked at his shoes and said to them, “I’m not sure if I’ll be free on that day…I think I have something on…”

    “Say you’ll be there..,” Claire tossed her head, which she knew made her lustrous, jet-black locks dance and showed off her hair to its best advantage. This was what Claire did when she wanted her parents to give in to something. Half the time, she guessed she looked really stupid when she did that, but. She really wanted Drew to come.

    Drew stared at her and started to mumbled, ”…Well, I guess its okay…nothing important to do anyway…” and then Sandy appeared and slide up to Drew.

    Claire felt her heart break into a million pieces. Sandy was one of those popular girls in their school with the killer looks; the soft, shiny blond hair, the fair skin and the large, sparkling blue eyes, curves in all the right places. Claire was the opposite; silky, jet-black hair, tanned and had normal brown eyes. Smiling smugly at Claire, Sandy took Drew’s hand. “Drew,” Sandy said coldly to Claire’s ear (who knew how it sounded like to Drew’s ears?), “Let’s go.” Claire stared at them as they walked away. She hoped Drew remembered their date at the hall on the 24th.

    Turning away, she sang softly to herself: He’s the reason for the teardrops on my guitar…