Chapter 1
977 Words
Days passed, and slowly, the awkward tension between Andy and me began to ease. We didn’t talk much, but whenever we crossed paths—at home or at school—he no longer ignored me. He would smile, sometimes even say hello. It was… nice, in a quiet, easy way.
I noticed he spent most of his time in his room. He seemed a little introverted, only coming out to eat or head to school. Honestly, it suited me. I wasn’t the most social person either, so his quiet presence was actually comforting.
One afternoon, though, the stillness of my room became too much. I needed fresh air. I picked up my old guitar, the one I’d brought from the province, and headed out to the lanai.
Once I made sure I wouldn’t be disturbed, I sat down and let my fingers wander over the strings. The chords flowed softly, familiar and calming.
Then I heard footsteps behind me.
I turned and froze. Andy was walking toward me.
I hesitated, stopping mid-strum. “I… I can go back to my room if I’m disturbing you.”
“No, it’s fine. Keep playing,” he said calmly.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to bother you.”
“You’re not bothering me. Actually… I came out because I wanted to listen. You play really well.”
I smiled shyly. “Thanks.”
“So… how did you learn?” he asked.
“Oh… my dad. He used to play in a band. Mom sang in it too, back when they were younger.”
Andy’s face lit up, and he nodded slightly.
“Right… your mom worked in a bar too, didn’t she? That’s how she met my dad?”
I stayed quiet, feeling a little shy, but I could tell he wasn’t teasing.
“Your father must have been a good guitarist,” Andy said. “You play really well. He must have taught you properly.”
“Thanks… but I only know the basics. After he passed, I had to focus on school to get a scholarship.”
“So… you were a scholar?”
“Yes, but I had to stop when I moved here.”
A comfortable silence fell.
“But studying here must be easier. You don’t have to stress yourself as much,” he said.
“True. I’m grateful to your dad. That’s why I try to do well—so I won’t embarrass him,” I admitted.
Andy studied me for a moment, and I felt my cheeks warm. Before I could overthink it, I decided to cut the conversation short.
“Um… I just remembered I have some assignments. I should go.”
I stood, but Andy spoke again before I could move.
“Cecile… I’m sorry.”
I froze.
“For how I treated you when we first met… I was judgmental. I hurt you without knowing the full truth. I understand now, and I’ve learned my mistake.”
I didn’t fully understand, but I felt the sincerity in his voice. My pride softened, and I nodded.
“It’s okay. I understand what you went through. Adjusting to a new family isn’t easy. Your anger was valid.”
Andy smiled, wide and genuine, dimples showing. Somehow, it was mesmerizing. He looked… cute.
“Thanks. Then maybe it’s not too late for us to start over. Not as siblings… but as friends.”
I felt a weight lift from my chest, and I smiled without thinking.
“Why not? If you want, I can start calling you my brother,” I said.
Andy paused, thought for a moment, then shook his head.
“No… not yet. Just call me Andy.”
“Okay, noted,” I said. He waved before walking away.
The next few days were lighter. Our conversations became easier, and Andy even started coming out to the lanai sometimes, just to watch me play guitar. He wanted to learn, and though I was shy at first, I taught him.
He picked it up quickly. Within a few days, he could play a piece he had been practicing for a week.
“Wow… you’ve got it already. Next time, maybe you’ll be better than me,” I said, genuinely impressed.
“You’re a good teacher. Thanks. And… I finally checked off one thing on my bucket list—learning guitar,” he admitted with a grin.
I laughed softly. “Bucket list? Mine’s probably just one thing too.”
“Oh? What is it?”
“Secret… it’s a little impossible, so it stays on the list.”
Andy raised an eyebrow.
“Come on, tell me. Who knows, maybe I can help. You helped me learn guitar, after all.”
“You’re persistent… Fine. I want to be a famous fashion designer. Can you help me?”
He tilted his head. “Fashion designer? Then why choose teaching course ?”
“I… didn’t have a choice. Tuition’s expensive. Teaching seemed safer.”
“But my dad is paying. So… what’s stopping you?”
I stammered, embarrassed. “No… it’s fine. I’ll finish my course first. Maybe later…”
Andy exhaled, his gaze steady and intense. I felt my heart skip a beat.
“Okay… if you say so. But if you love fashion, you probably love art. No wonder you love music—you’re a born artist.”
“Artist? Maybe… I do love art.”
“Do you like drawing?” he asked.
“A little… why?”
“Come, I want to show you something.” He stood and started walking toward the house.
Curiosity won, and I followed. He glanced back and waved.
“What are you waiting for? Come on, before I change my mind.”
I smiled and fell into step behind him, a flutter of excitement stirring in my chest.
- Writer
