Amelia Garcia, was a senior in highschool, yes! 2 years elder than me, roughly. She was a nice girl, and a popular girl too. Beaufort was small enough that it had only one elementary school, so we have been in the same schools our entire lives, and I would be lying if I said I never talked to her. After all she lives right in front of my house. But this didn't mean that I spent a lot of time hanging out with her in my spare time, even back then. Amelia was never been once in my social calendar. Who I talk to in school is one thing, who I talk after school is another thing. She was the daughter of our English teacher, Mason Garcia so, I kept a distance!!
Amelia was thin, with honey blond hair and soft blue eyes, most of the time she looked sort of...plain, and that was when you notice her at all. It's not that Amelia was unattractive- don't get me wrong. She wasn't hideous or anything like that. Fortunately, she had taken after her mother, who, based on the pictures I'd seen, wasn't half-bad, especially considering who she ended up marrying. But Amelia wasn't exactly what I consider attractive either. She didn't care much about outer appearances, because she was always looking for things like "inner beauty", and I suppose that's the part of reason she looked the way she did. For as long as I'd known her- and this way going way back, remember- she'd always worn a pony tail, don't she get bored by seeing herself like that? and that also without a stich of makeup on her face.
Coupled with her off-white cardigan and plain blue skirt, she always looked as though she were on her way to an interview in library. We used to think, it was just a phase and she'd soon grow out of it, but she never had. Even though in my entire fifteen year, she hadn't changed at all. The only thing that changed was the size of her clothes and hair. But it wasn't just the way Amelia looked made her different; it was also the way she talked, because with Amelia, everything was in 'study'. That was another thing. Though most of the student dosen't mind, but do talk about it on her back. She always mentioned study whenever you talked to her, no matter what the subject. The famous actor is gonna do a new movie? you must study, you can get as rich as him. Teacher was absent because of sickness? you must study, she must be testing us. Anyways, you get the picture. This side of her was hated by everyone, so far I know. Now, I liked studies as much as the next teenage boy, but Amelia seemed to enjoy it in a way that was completely foreign to me. Not only she will study in home, but she would read during lunch breaks too. In my mind this wasn't normal, even if she was teacher's daughter. No matter how you sliced it, reading The heritage of catawba County wasn't nearly as much fun as flirting, if you know what I mean.Despite of all these other strikes, though, the one thing that really drove me crazy about her was the fact that she was always so damn cheerful, no matter what was happening around her. I cross my heart and say, that girl never said bad thing about anyone or anything, even if someone is not nice to her. She would smile and hum to herself and walk by, she would wave to strangers driving by in their cars. It seemed every adult in town adored her. "she is such a nice young lady" they say whenever her name came up. "the world would be a better place if there were more people like her"
But my friends and I didn't quite see it that way. For us one Amelia Garcia was plenty.It wasn't until the class started that I noticed somehting usual again. Though Beaufort highschool wasn't large, i knew for a fact that it was pretty much split fifty-fifty between males and females, which is why I was surprised when I saw this class was atleast ninety-five percent female. There was only one another male in the class, which was a good thing, and for a moment I felt flush with a "The world better prepare, here I come" kind of feeling. Girls, Girls, Girls,...I couldn't help but think. Girls and Girls and no test in sight.
Now, our school has never been a heaven of pretty girls, some will wear tones of makeup and then speak with their big mouth while others will be...plain. Okay, so I wasn't the most forward thinking guy in the block. So, miss chole, started explaining about a play for some function in September, and the most surprising part , the play was written by the old Mason. Okay, maybe he wasn't that old. Miss chole continued and finally said "Amelia Garcia is going to be the lead, others choose the roles by yourself". This was kind of obvious that she would be the lead. The class was dismissed, she looked at me again and smiled. I was getting a feeling, that I am going to be in trouble so I decided to walk out of the room as fast as possible and hopefully I reached the safe zone. Despite being curious about Amelia's smile, I walked towards my classroom.
"hey Landon, you heard there's going to be a party next week?" said Eric while putting his hand around my shoulder "what for?" I raised my brow as I asked "because of our new council president!!" he said with a big, very big smile on his face."don't tell me you got a date?" I said in a shock! He gave me a smug smile.what's that suppose to mean? Are you really gonna be a traitor? Did you forgot all the rolls I have given you when we were kids?
The homecoming dance was tomorrow, and I wasn't sure if I need a date or not. Like it's not really important I guess, actually I don't know. Going alone there, so far what I have heard "you'd end up being the guy scooping punch all night long or mopping up the braf in the bathroom", that's the last thing I would ever wanted to do. So, that's people without dates usually do.When I was in junior high, I clicked with a girl named Emma Locklear. She was my first real girlfriend, though it lasted only some months. Just before summer breaks I got dumped by her for someone else, he was already 18 at that time and had a car. His father had a garage, no big deal! not at all. He was kind of guy who would flirt with every girl he see, his name is Charles. His primary attributes so far I could tell was only that he had a real nice car. He would mainly wear light coloured T-shirts, which suits his face- not so handsome kind of well. He would lean on his car and say while moving his finger
I doubt if the evening could have been much worse, If you want to know the truth. Amelia came out and said she need our help, after entering the restroom I saw Emma, and her marvelous job, I'll tell you. The puke was everywhere except the toilet. The walls, the floor, the sinks- even on the ceiling, though don't ask me how she did that. Amelia, fate would have it, was the one who found Emma and obviously she wasn't doing too well. Seems like one glass of punch really done Emma in, the only option was to clean her up and take her home before the teachers found out about it. Getting drunk was a big deal back then, she'd be looking at suspension or maybe expulsion, if she got caught.Amelia, bless her heart, didn't want that to happen any more than I did. Though some part of me was like "go ahead! get a suspension letter, punishment for breaking my heart!". But then helper instincts take over me and everyone else too, Amelia took a look at Emma and took immediate charge of the si
In the two weeks following the homecoming dance, my life pretty much returned to normal. My father was back from his business trip, which made things a lot more fun around my house, primarily because I could sneak out the window again and head to graveyard for my late night potato chips party. I don't know what it was about the graveyard that attracted us, maybe the tombstones themselves, because as far as tombstones went they are fairly comfortable to sit on.We usually sat in a small plot where the great family of Hemingson was buried some eighty or hundred years ago. There were six tombstones there, all arranged in a circle, making it easy to pass the chips back and forth between us. One day, me and my friends went to library to find something about Hemingson family. I mean, if you are going to sit on someone's tombstone, you might know something about them, right? It turns out that there wasn't much about the family in historical records, though we find one interesting inf
Even though Emma was sick all over the place and I'd had to clean it up, she was actually pretty fun to be around most of the time. And her dress really had been something, uh..before everything. I figured she was calling to thank me or even get togther for a barbecue or burger or sandwich something."Landon?""oh, hey!" I said, playing it cool,"what's happening?"There was a short pause on the other end."um...how are you?"It was then that I realized I wasn't speaking to Emma. It was Amelia, I almost dropped the phone. I thought i will be unconscious any minute now, I can't say I was happy about hearing from her, and for a second I wondered who gave her my number before I realized it was probably my mom or dad."Landon?""yeah pretty good," I finally blurted out, still in shock."Are you busy?""sort of""oh...I see..." she said, trailing off.she paused again."Why you are calling me?" I asked.it took her some seconds to get the words out.
Amelia seemed quite shocked as I asked the question. Am I missing something?"you really didn't know I was the lead?""nope!""weren't you paying attention in the class?"I seem to remember something, the bell ring in my head. It was the day when Amelia smiled at me, miss chole was discussing about this play. Okay so, I wasn't paying attention since I was busy analyzing other things."oh..I seem to remember it. So, why isn't Eddie brown suitable for this role? so far I think miss chole said afterwards that Eddie will be Harry Preston"Eddie brown was a type of boy who have a squeaky voice, people would just avoid talking to. He was skinny, with pimples all over his face and he usually talked to you with his eyes all squinched up. He had a nervous tic, and he couldn't help but squinch his eyes whenever he got nervous, which was practically all the time. He'd probably end up spouting all his lines like a psychotic blind man if you put him in front of the crowd. To
Amelia turned away, but I could see the tears in her eyes. It was the first time I'd ever seen her cry. I think part of me wanted to cry, too."I am not asking you to do it for me," she said softly,"I am really not, if you say no, I'll not say anything bad about you. I promise. but if you'd like to do something kind for a wonderful man who means so much to me...will you just think about it?"Her eyes looked like those of a cocker spanial that had just messed on the rug. I looked down at my feet."I don't have to think about it." I finally said it,"I'll do it!"I really didn't have a choice, did I?The old Mason wrote The Winter Angel one day and decided to put that on play instead. After I read the script, it wasn't that bad actually. It's basically the story of a man who had lost his wife a few years back. This guy, Harry Preston, used to be real religious, but he had crises of faith after his wife died during childbirth. He's raising this little girl all
--1 month later-- The rehearsals began at three o'clock, and Amelia knew all her lines the first day there, which wasn't really surprising. What was surprising was that she knew all my lines, too, as well as everyoneelse's. We'd be going over a scene, she'd be doing it without the script, and I'd be looking down at a stack of pages, trying to figure out what my next line should be, and whenever I looked up shehad this real shiny look about her, as if waiting for a burning bush or something. The only lines I knew were the mute bum's, at least on that first day, and all of a sudden I was actually envious ofEddie, at least in that regard. This was going to be a lot of work, not exactly what I'd expected when I'd signed up for the class.My noble feelings about doing the play had worn off by the second day of rehearsals. Even though I knew I was doing the "right thing," my friends didn't understand it at all, and they'd been riding
"You want a beer?" Diana asked. I think she was trying to be funny, but no one laughed.Amelia put her hand to her hair, tugging gently at her bun. "Oh . . .no, not really . . . thank you, though."She looked directly at me with a really sweet glow, and right away I knew I was in trouble. I thought she was going to ask me off to the side or something, which to be honest I thought would turnout better, but I guess that wasn't in her plans."Well, you did really well this week at rehearsals," she said to me."I know you've got a lot of lines to learn, but I'm sure you're going to get them all real soon. And I just wanted to thank you for volunteering like you did. You're a real gentleman.""Thanks," I said, a little knot forming in my stomach. I tried to be cool, but all my friends were looking right at me, suddenly wondering if I'd been telling them the truth about Miss Chole forcing it on me and everything. I hoped they missed
By then, Amelia's story had left me completely, and I could practically hear my friends laughing about me, all the way from Cecil's Diner.See what happens when you're a nice guy?By the next morning everyone at school knew I was walking Amelia home, and this started up a new round of speculation about the two of us. This time it was even worse than before. It was so bad that I had to spend my lunch break in the library just to get awayfrom it all.That night, the rehearsal was at the Playhouse. It was the last onebefore the show opened, and we had a lot to do. Right after school, the boys in drama class had to load all the props in the classroom into the rented truck to take them to the Playhouse.The only problem was that Eddie and I were the only two boys, and he's not exactly the most coordinated individual in history. We'd be walking through a doorway, carrying one of the heavieritems, and his Hooville body would work agai
The next night, as I was walking her home, she asked me about my father."He's all right, I reckon," I said. "But he's not around much.""Do you miss that? Not growing up with him around?""Sometimes.""I miss my mom, too," she said, "even though I never even knew her."It was the first time I'd ever considered that Jamie and I might have something in common. I let that sink in for a while."It must be hard for you," I said sincerely. "Even though my father's a stranger to me, at least he's still around."She looked up at me as we walked, then faced forward again. She tugged gently at her hair again. I was beginning to notice that she did this whenever she was nervous or wasn't sure what to say."It is, sometimes. Don't get me wrong-I love my father with all my heart-but there are times when I wonder what it would have been like to have a mother around. I think she and I would have beenable to talk about things in a way that my fat
By early September, just over two weeks into rehearsals, the sky was winter dark before Miss Chole would let us leave, and Amelia asked me if I wouldn't mind walking her home. I don't know whyshe wanted me to. Beaufort wasn't exactly a hotbed of criminal activity back then. The only murder I'd ever heard about had occurred six years earlier when a guy was stabbed outside of Maurice's Tavern, which was a hangout for people like Charles, by theway. For an hour or so it caused quite a stir, and phone lines buzzed all over town while nervous women wondered about the possibility of a crazed lunatic wandering the streets, preying oninnocent victims. Doors were locked, guns were loaded, men sat by the front windows, looking for anyone out of the ordinary who might be creeping down the street. But the whole thing was overbefore the night was through when the guy walked into the police station to give himself up, explaining that it was a bar fi
"We'll have a small tree and a few gifts-something that all of themcan share. "You're welcome to visit Christmas Eve. . . ."After we said our good-byes, Amelia and I walked in silencewithout saying anything. I could tell she was sad. The more I hungaround Amelia, the more I realized she had lots of differentemotions-she wasn't always cheerful and happy. Believe it or not,that was the first time I recognized that in some ways she wasjust like the rest of us."I'm sorry it didn't work out," I said softly."I am, too."She had that faraway look in her eyes again, and it was a momentbefore she went on."I just wanted to do something different for them this year.Something special that they would remember forever. I thoughtfor sure this was it. . . ." She sighed. "The Lord seems to have aplan that I just don't know about yet."She was quiet
We got to the orphanage just about the time it was getting dark. We were a couple of minutes early, and the director was on the phone. It was an important call and he couldn't meet with us rightaway, so we made ourselves comfortable. We were waiting on a bench in the hallway outside his door, when Amelia turned to me. Her book was in her lap. I guess she wanted it for support, butthen again, maybe it was just her habit."You did really well today," she said. "With your lines, I mean.""Thanks," I said, feeling proud and dejected at exactly the sametime. "I still haven't learned my beats, though," I offered. Therewas no way we could practice those on the porch, and I hoped shewasn't going to suggest it."You will. They're easy once you know you all the words.""I hope so."Amelia smiled, and after a moment she changed the subject, sort of throwing me off track. "Do you ever think about the future, La
The first thing we did was talk to Miss Chloe about our plans for the orphans, and she thought it was a marvelous idea. That was her favorite word, by the way-marvelous-after she'd greeted youwith "Hellooooo." On Monday, when she realized that I knew all my lines, she said, "Marvelous!" and for the next two hours whenever I'd finish up a scene, she'd say it again. By the end of therehearsal, I'd heard it about four zillion times.But Miss Chole actually went our idea one better. She told the class what we were doing, and she asked if other members of the cast would be willing to do their parts as well, so that the orphans could really enjoy the whole thing. The way she asked meant that they really didn't have a choice, and she looked around the class, waiting for someone to nod so she could make it official. No onemoved a muscle, except for Eddie. Somehow he'd inhaled a bug up his nose at that exact moment, and he sneezed violently. The bug flew out
"You want a beer?" Diana asked. I think she was trying to be funny, but no one laughed.Amelia put her hand to her hair, tugging gently at her bun. "Oh . . .no, not really . . . thank you, though."She looked directly at me with a really sweet glow, and right away I knew I was in trouble. I thought she was going to ask me off to the side or something, which to be honest I thought would turnout better, but I guess that wasn't in her plans."Well, you did really well this week at rehearsals," she said to me."I know you've got a lot of lines to learn, but I'm sure you're going to get them all real soon. And I just wanted to thank you for volunteering like you did. You're a real gentleman.""Thanks," I said, a little knot forming in my stomach. I tried to be cool, but all my friends were looking right at me, suddenly wondering if I'd been telling them the truth about Miss Chole forcing it on me and everything. I hoped they missed
--1 month later-- The rehearsals began at three o'clock, and Amelia knew all her lines the first day there, which wasn't really surprising. What was surprising was that she knew all my lines, too, as well as everyoneelse's. We'd be going over a scene, she'd be doing it without the script, and I'd be looking down at a stack of pages, trying to figure out what my next line should be, and whenever I looked up shehad this real shiny look about her, as if waiting for a burning bush or something. The only lines I knew were the mute bum's, at least on that first day, and all of a sudden I was actually envious ofEddie, at least in that regard. This was going to be a lot of work, not exactly what I'd expected when I'd signed up for the class.My noble feelings about doing the play had worn off by the second day of rehearsals. Even though I knew I was doing the "right thing," my friends didn't understand it at all, and they'd been riding
Amelia turned away, but I could see the tears in her eyes. It was the first time I'd ever seen her cry. I think part of me wanted to cry, too."I am not asking you to do it for me," she said softly,"I am really not, if you say no, I'll not say anything bad about you. I promise. but if you'd like to do something kind for a wonderful man who means so much to me...will you just think about it?"Her eyes looked like those of a cocker spanial that had just messed on the rug. I looked down at my feet."I don't have to think about it." I finally said it,"I'll do it!"I really didn't have a choice, did I?The old Mason wrote The Winter Angel one day and decided to put that on play instead. After I read the script, it wasn't that bad actually. It's basically the story of a man who had lost his wife a few years back. This guy, Harry Preston, used to be real religious, but he had crises of faith after his wife died during childbirth. He's raising this little girl all