Superstar

Monday mornings never went this bad, especially when there’s an upcoming ‘pop’ geometry quiz first period.

“Did you hear about the new exchange student from London?” my best friend, Jenny, asked me while we were getting books from our lockers. She was wearing her usual Goth Monday attire: black fishnet stockings and boots, red Goth dress, and she even painted her nails blood red. She was chewing a bubblegum – which was not allowed in our school. “It gives me the rebellious air,” she once said when I asked.

I slammed my locker shut and tried to stuff my geometry book in my backpack. “No,” I replied. “Why? Is she a, you know, bee with an itch? Because, our dear head cheerleader, Mandy, really needs good competition.”

Jenny pinched my cheek. “No, you silly, I just thought you’d be interested since, he comes from the same part of the world as you do.” She linked her arm with mine as we walked our way to our first period: geometry.

We sat beside each other. Jenny was filing her nails while I was reviewing our latest topics. I looked up from my book and frowned. “We have a pop quiz today, Jen. Mr. Parker hinted it last week.”

Her lips formed an ‘O’ and she narrowed her eyes on me. “You can’t be serious, right? I was par-taying last weekend.”

“Shane’s ‘par-tay’ was only last Saturday night.” I used air quotes on ‘party’ for emphasis. “You had the whole Sunday to study,” I stated as-a-matter-of-factly.

She pointed her finger at me. “There’s always an after party, Beatrice,” she replied and she went back to filing her nails.

I rolled my eyes on her and went back to my geometry book. I flipped the assigned pages back and forth. Twenty pages of lecture! This is worse than I have expected. I guess this is what I get for forgetting about the pop quiz.

We spent the rest of the free period in silence. I know that arguing with Jenny when she’s been feeling drunk or when she came back from partying non-stop is like walking around with a neon sign over my head that says “Kill me.” She also knows that arguing with me when I have forgotten to study is worse than arguing with me when I’m in a bad mood. It’s like a mutual understanding between us.

Suddenly, she nudged me. “There!” She pointed towards the door. “He’s going in this classroom from eleven o’clock from the door.” She gasped. “So that means he has first period with us. I am so lucky I let you talk me into this, Trix.”

“Uh, okay. Whatever.” I never took my eyes from my book, reading each and every word more than thrice. One of my teachers said to us once, “90% of learning comes from the eyes.” So I take my time to read more books than anybody else.

“He’s going in. Counting once, counting twice... Shoot! Mr. Parker got here first.” Jenny stopped filing her nails and slouched in her seat. I gently snapped my book shut and placed it under my desk.

“Good morning, boys and girls.” Mr. Parker’s booming voice echoed throughout the classroom. “Clear your desks, please. Pop quiz on geometry today. I assume you have all studied your lessons well after Mr. Shane Stuart’s party last Saturday,” he nodded his head at Shane, who lazily nodded back in response.

A figure stood in the front door. “I’m so sorry I’m late,” he apologized. The whole class stared at him. I suppose he is the new student from London.

Mr. Parker didn’t seem pleased with the new student. “Ah, Mr. Lawrence Bonaparte, am I right?” The new student nodded. “Welcome to the class. You can sit behind Miss de Miravaux. Please raise your hand Claudette.” I clumsily raised my hand, avoiding my classmates’ gazes.

Lawrence made his way behind me. He slumped behind me and took his seat. Mr. Parker clasped his hands together for attention. “I guess we have to postpone the quiz tomorrow.” The whole class cheered. “Please open your books to page 298 and we’ll begin in five minutes,” he said as he went out.

I opened my geometry book in chagrin. I have just memorized everything and now he’s postponing it! I stared blankly at the pages and watched the words jumble up in my mind. Then somebody threw a paper airplane on my desk. Jenny. I reluctantly opened the letter under my desk.

‘What do you think about the new guy?’ the letter read. I have to admit, Jenny has a squiggly penmanship when she’s having a hangover. I looked at her questioningly. She grinned innocently at me and motioned her head to the person behind me.

I shrugged. “I don’t know,” I mouthed. “I never met him in London.” She just shrugged back and stared at the front door. Mr. Parker emerged. “Miss Claudette Beatrice de Miravaux? May we have a moment with you at the principal’s office after class?”

Everybody was staring at me. What did I do now? “Yeah, sure okay,” I said. “Good,” Mr Parker replied and discussed the day’s lesson to the class.

“What did you do, Trix?” my brother, Alex, asked me during lunch. “Did you break the principal’s priceless vase? Did you vandalize the girls’ comfort room? God, Trix. Why did you have to be my sister?”

“I did nothing, okay?” I protested. “Besides, why would they call my attention in front of the class like that if I did a major offense? I don’t want to brag, but I’m an honor student. Also, that would be like asking to be beaten up by the school’s quarterback for embarrassing his sister.”

Yeah. Alex is the quarterback in our school’s football team. He was also the quarterback in our school back in London. I love Alex because he’s not a jerk like his other teammates. He still sits with his sister and her friends during lunch.

"How did he pronounce your second name, Trix?" he asked, taking huge bites from his foot-long hotdog sandwich.

"Now that you mention it," I racked my brain for a memory on how Mr. Parker pronounced my name. "He pronounced it the American way."

"Then there's nothing to worry about. The principal probably just wants you to tour that new guy tomorrow. She thinks that you could tour him better since we also came from London. But I swear Beatrice; I've never seen him in my life."

Jenny and Shane sat with us. “You know, Lawrence looks kind of lonely out there.” She stared longingly at where Lawrence was sitting, munching on a sandwich. The cheerleaders and varsity players were surrounding him, talking and flirting.

“You could sit with them in you want,” Shane said coldly. Shane hates the cheerleaders ever since Mandy dumped him for some jerky football guy, who was a senior last year.

She cringed. “No, I didn’t mean it that way, Shane. It’s just that, I think he's suffering from the treatment of Mandy and Company.”

"Let him be, Jen," I chided. "We can't do anything about it. What would you expect us to do? Go there and sit with him or invite him to sit with us?"

Her eyes lit up excitedly. "I love you, Beatrice!" she said as she enveloped me to an embrace. "Isn't she just the smartest?" she asked Alex and Shane.

Shane shook his head. "The new kid would be scared of you, Jen. I mean, look at you." He gestured at her Goth attire.

"I wouldn't argue with you on that, Jen," Alex said quietly, "Since I couldn't argue with that." He smiled mischievously.

"Hey!" I snapped, looking offended. "You can't choose family, Allejandro." How I wish my brother was a brainiac like me or I was as athletic as he was. I turned to Jenny. "Shane's right. You look so-"

Jenny stood up and grabbed me by the arm. "Yeah, I know. Let's go, Trix. Time to save Lawrence Bonaparte from the evil clutches of Mandy Morrison."

I grabbed one of Alex's sandwiches while she was dragging me. The scene looked really scary. It was like I was being bullied by Jenny. If only I wore my thick-rimmed glasses instead of my contacts, that would be totally awesome.

"Hey there, Lawrence," Jen purred. Mandy looked at both of us in disgust. I have to point out she gave me special treatment. She glared at me and at my sandwich.

I quickly consumed my sandwich. "Hey there... uhm, does ho work for you? Coz I am much more comfortable calling you that. It suits you, ho." Jen and I snickered as if it was our little private joke.

Mandy stared at me wide-eyed. "Where did you pick up your vocabulary, Geek?" I flinched. I hate it when she calls me names. "From your Goth friend over there?" She pointed at Jenny. "How did you become so... bad? You used to be Miss Goody Two-Shoes, de Miravaux." Mandy spoke each word as if we've been childhood friends. Which, I’m proud to say, we're not.

Jenny crossed her arms. "Don’t act as if you know her, bitch." She let go of me and tugged Lawrence. "I believe Mr. Bonaparte has a lunch appointment with us," she turned to him and winked, "Don't you, Lawrence?"

Lawrence nodded. "Yes, I believe she is right, Miss Morrison," he picked up his lunch tray and stood up to leave. "Nice meeting you though. I think."

I smiled meekly at Mandy. "I guess we're done here. See you and your jerks later, ho." I smirked and followed Jenny and Lawrence to our table.

"You're welcome. I'm Jenny," Jenny said to Lawrence when we sat back at our table. "And you're Lawrence Bonaparte. I knew that."

Shane, Alex, and I exchanged looks. I stared from Jenny to Lawrence. I get it. Jenny is trying to get Lawrence and probably get him to ask her out for the Juniors' Night. Very clever. I have to salute her for her ah-mazing idea.

Lawrence just stared at her blankly. "Sorry. I don't date Goths. I'm the kind of guy who dates sweet, down-to-earth, gorgeous girls," he finally said apologetically.

“I won’t be Goth girl tomorrow anyways,” Jen muttered sadly.

The scene was so heartbreaking it could be written into a good song. Wait! Speaking of songs... "I totally forgot! I have an audition by one o'clock," I said as I smacked my forehead.

"Don't worry, Trix. You'll do great," Shane said. "Just don't sing "You Belong with Me" and sing "I'd Lie" instead or that "I'm Only Me When I'm with You" song."

I finished my lunch and stood up. "Thanks, Shane. I hope you guys could watch me perform." I bade them goodbye and ran to the auditorium.

Running was tiring. My legs were getting weak from running up the stairs. Auditions usually took place during afternoon classes. That means all participants are exempted from their classes. It feels great to be somewhere else while classes are going on.

"Ouch!" I exclaimed as I bumped through someone. I looked up and saw that it was Chris. "Didn't expect you here, Trixie," he said coyly. He had a strong build, which made the bump worse.

Instantly, my cheeks flushed deep red. It's true, I like him. But, well, Fate has plans for us. Different plans. "Hi Chris, how's it going? Are you still in the chess thing?"

He smiled. "What other choice do I have? It's not like the dance troupe will let me in." We both had a hearty laugh. After a while, I started fidgeting. Chris noticed it and slightly pushed me forward. "Oh yeah, I totally forgot. You have your auditions. Sorry to keep you." I wanted to protest, but he already went running off.

Oh well, I thought. I don't see that often anyways. I continued making my way towards the auditorium.

The auditions were already starting. Some were singing adapted songs. Only a few were singing originals, which made me a bit nervous. My song is an original. I slumped on my reserved seat and prayed silently.

Adrianne from the seniors was singing some sort of opera I could not recognize. Her shrill sounds were astoundingly annoying. After she was done, some freshman tried to correctly sing Celine Dion's "My Heart Will Go On" (She didn't even get the lyrics right).

Waiting for my turn made me nervous. I felt the dreaded fear of facing most of the student body and the fear of humiliation. When my turn came, I carefully picked out my favourite acoustic guitar from the guitar rack and went up the stage.

"You may start now, Miss de Miravaux," the head judge addressed to me, disinterested. All the people stared at me eagerly, which made me almost drop the guitar. How funny it felt when I didn't.

I carefully adjusted the microphone to my level. "Uhm, this song is an original composition of mine. This song is entitled "Superstar" which I wrote after watching one of Reese Riches' concerts." One of the people snickered, which made me feel comfortable. "I hope you will all enjoy this." I started strumming the first few bars and sang.

Superstar
written by Taylor Swift and Liz Rose
This is wrong but I can't help but feel like there ain't nothing more right babe Misty morning comes again and I can't help but wish I could see your face I knew from the first note played, I'd be breaking all my rules to see you You smile that beautiful smile and all the girls in the front row scream your name
CHORUS
So dim that spotlight, tell me things like "I can't take my eyes off of you" I'm no one special, just another wide-eyed girl who's desperately in love with you Give me a photograph to hang on my wall
Superstar
Morning loneliness comes around when I'm not dreaming about you When my world wakes up today you'll be in another town
I knew when I saw your face I'd be counting all the ways to see you And you smile that beautiful smile and all the girls in the front row scream your name
REPEAT CHORUS
You play in bars, you play guitar
And I'm invisible and everyone knows who you are
And you'll never sing me to sleep
Every night from the radio
REPEAT CHORUS
Sweet, sweet superstar
Superstar

I shakily strummed the last note and waited for any violent reaction. Who knows? Maybe somebody would be brave enough to throw me a rotten tomato or something.

The first applause came from Shane, who was actually sitting on the second row seats along with Jenny, Alex, and Lawrence.

Everybody else gave me a thundering round of applause. Some even gave me a standing ovation, which was really unexpected. I humbly bowed down and went back to my seat, returning the guitar along the way.

"That was AWESOME!" Jenny said when we met in front of our lockers after class. "You have the most melodious voice, Trixie. I am so gonna sue the judges if you don't win."

I smiled meekly. "Shut up, Jen. Other people are better than me." I pretended to arrange my books.

She rolled her eyes. "You mean that Adrianne girl's opera singing is better than yours? Puh-lease! That is so impossible." I flinched.

Mr. Parker's voice echoed through my brain. "Oh shit! I totally forgot my appointment with the principal." I quickly stuffed my books in my bag and slammed my locker door. "I'm dead if I'm late."

Jen checked her watch. "You're not late yet, Trix. I hacked her computer system." She smiled at me slyly.

"Jenny," I bellowed. "Tell me you did not hack into Miss Mundo's computer system." I looked at her suspiciously.

She smiled sheepishly and started running away. "See you, Trix!"

Anger filled me. Unfortunately, Jen already made her great escape. I was left with no other choice but to go to Miss Mundo's office.

When I opened the door, not only Miss Mundo was there, but also Lawrence. Alex was right. She needs me to give him a tour.

"You need me to give Mr. Bonaparte a tour?" I asked nonchalantly. Her eyes widened at my knowledge.

She cleared her throat and motioned Lawrence to stand up. "Well, yes. But I would also like you to know that his real name is Tristan Riches, the twin brother of Reese Riches."

My eyes widened as I stared from Lawrence - or Tristan, whatever - to the principal, but I immediately regained my composure. "Why are you telling me this?" I asked in a bored voice, hoping not to give away my curiosity.

Miss Mundo gently clasped her hands together. “It’s because,” she started. “You’re the most trustworthy person in the whole Albarn-Evans Academy. Is that enough?”

I shook my head. “I need a decent, convincing explanation, Miss Mundo. I’m pretty sure I’m not the most trustworthy person here. I have the tendency to let the cat out of the bag, you know.”

Lawrence looked at me in the eye. “Well, you may not be the most trustworthy here, but who else can I ask help from? Would you think that your friend, Jenny, will digest all of this calmly and swear to secrecy? Ha! I bet the secret will be out the next day.”

My brain tried to come up with a witty come back. “Well, why can’t you just ask me to give you a tour without telling me who you really are? It would make things easier that way, Idiot.” I gasped, realizing what I have just said. And I said it in front of the principal, too! Now I’m in trouble.

“That’s enough Miss de Miravaux!” Miss Mundo hissed. “Can you not think of a reason why any parent with a superstar for a daughter would conceal the identity of their son who wants to go to school and tell it to only a few people?” She looked at me, waiting for a response but all I could do was stare blankly into her. “It’s SAFETY! They want Tristan to be safe from all sorts of harm. And that’s why I chose you is because, aside from that fact that you are trustworthy, you can also protect him with you martial arts skills.”

I was shocked. How did she know about my martial arts skills? Only Alex was idiotic enough to let the school know. And what is this she means? She wants me to be Lawrence’s bodyguard? “I’m pretty sure he’s not from London, though,” I spat.

“Of course I’m not from London,” Lawrence laughed heartily, “Though we used to live in London. Way back when Reese and I were ten.”

“Okay. I really don’t care about that.” I turned to Miss Mundo. “I really hate arguments, so how about this? I give Mister Bonaparte here a tour. And you two keep me out from this secret identity thing. Which means Lawrence needs to be in his best behaviour so that he wouldn’t be causing me any problems. I still have to catch up with Alex’s AP classes, you know. Is that okay?”

Lawrence and Miss Mundo both grinned. “Deal,” they said in unison.