Andrea and the 5-Day Challenge (11 page)

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Authors: Cindy K. Green

Tags: #christian Fiction

BOOK: Andrea and the 5-Day Challenge
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I mounted the stairs to my room after forcing my backpack over my shoulder. Music streamed from the spare room aka: Mom's sewing room/study. Out from the crack of the doorway flowed the sounds of the sewing machine mixed with my mother's voice singing along to the 1980's tunes emanating from her radio. She sounded in good spirits and not like she was about to read me the riot act. Curiouser
and curiouser
.

In my room, I tossed my bag onto the bed and joined it there on top of the fluffiness of my comforter. I folded my arms under my head and closed my eyes. Even with the heap of homework waiting to be finished, all I could focus on was Luke.

I'd made the right decision with him, hadn't I? And I'd been thinking of him, too. I mean, I hadn't totally blown him off or anything. Everything had been left very friendly.

I covered my face with my hands and forced out a breath. Who was I kidding? He probably thought I was a completely rude and ungrateful person and after he'd been so nice to me. But I had to look at this situation clearly. Grabbing a pad and paper from my desk, I decided to attack this problem the way Amy would with one of her lists. I began to write:

Why get wrapped up in a guy who may:

A.) Lose interest in me next week which is so very possible, (I mean look at me.)

Or

B.) Move away, if not now, then soon.

And then

It will make my parents happy if I steer clear of this entanglement.

Of course, all of this could be a moot point anyway, as I very well might be attending the High School of the Performing Arts of Chapel Hill in less than two weeks. If I could actually get in. It was only responsible of me to nip this thing in the bud before I got too attached because it would be so easy to get attached to Luke.

Whoa! Hold on! Time to rein in this line of thinking. I am not looking for a man. Like Angie, I do not necessitate a male in my life to feel complete. I have Jesus for that. Having said that, though, it sure would be great to go along in this wide, inhospitable world with a friendly face at my side. No! Turning him down was the best course.

Besides, my parents would blow a gasket if they knew how infatuated I'd become over him. I could just hear my dad. “Focus, Andrea. The recital is in only three days.”

Oh, my gosh! Only three more days!

I sat up and tossed my pencil and paper on the desk. Making a list had not been helpful. Then I scrunched my body close to the pillows on the bed. I only had three more days until that darn recital. It was bad enough when I knew some vague representatives “could” show up at the recital. But to
know
that they're from the performing arts school and my future may very well hang in the balance…well, it would just be a relief when it was finally over and my the decision settled.

After unzipping my bag, I pulled out my Geometry homework and started in on the bane of my existence. Though I couldn't totally hate it. It had, in a sense, been the mechanism which had ultimately brought Luke and me together. Oh, yeah, we aren't actually together. Maybe I could hate that dreaded subject with all the shapes, after all.

An hour later, my phone rang. It was Amy. What did she want now? To force me to sign over my soul? She'd really stressed me out this week. What was with her? I could usually count on her to have my back, but at the moment, I wouldn't trust her with a sandwich I didn't like. “Hey Am. What's going on now?”

“Don't sound so happy to hear from me.”

Lying back into my pillows, I bent an arm under my head for support. “I'm always glad when you call. So, what's going on?”

“With Alisha and Angie coming over after Bible study, how about a chick-flick night instead of book club? I think we need a break from seriousness tonight.”

She must have read my mind. “If that means no boys then I am so there. The next time I see a testosterone-infused being, I might scream.”

“This Luke thing has sure thrown you for a loop. You sound like Angie.”

“I do. You're right. This is why you have to lay off. If Luke and I are meant to be, then it will happen.”
And it was never going to happen
, I reminded myself, so that I, too, would remain in the real world
.

“Fine. I resign as your matchmaker.”

“Thanks. What time should I be over?”

“Around eight.”

“All right, see you later.”

Like clockwork, my mother knocked on the door at 5:00 PM. “Dinner,” is all she said.

“Be right down.”

I gathered all my books and stacked them on my computer desk before heading downstairs to a meal with the ‘rents.

The smell of garlic wafted along the staircase, making my stomach growl. Well, I really hadn't eaten much today with my veggie burger lunch soaked in soda before the rally.

Crossing through the living room, I could hear Mom and Dad involved in some discussion about current events. Taxes, I think. They were always stressing about taxes. The way they told it, we were being taxed to death. At this rate, why should I even get a job when I finished college? Heck, why even go to college at all?

Mom set a plateful of chicken parmigiana at my place. With her homemade tomato sauce and lots of parmigiana reggiano cheese all over it, my mouth literally watered. “Smells really good, Mom.” I took a seat and lifted my fork. I couldn't wait to eat.

Dad folded his hands ready for prayer. “It really does smell great, Trish.” He gave Mom a smile. Dad was the only one who called Mom Trish. Even Grandma, my mom's mother, said her name like a steel bar had attached itself to her spine. “PATRICIA.”

Dad prayed thanks for our food and afterward his green-brown eyes settled on me. “How's it going there, Andi?” He took a bite of chicken.

“Fine.” I stuffed a piece of scrumptious yumminess into my mouth and closed my eyes as the sweet sauce and a plethora of delicious tastes passed over my tongue, and then down my throat. Mom may get on my nerves at times, but no one could cook better. I dare anyone to try.

“Geometry still giving you trouble?” Dad asked this before taking a drink from his glass.

“No, she's been doing some extra studying at school,” answered Mom for me. “Haven't you, Andrea?” She smiled like we shared a secret, and then popped a piece of garlic bread into her mouth.

I guess we did share a secret since that little fiasco yesterday when I mentioned Luke's name. It only took a modest amount of intelligence to put two and two together and know that my study partner had been one and the same. Mom was smart and used to putting things together. And not just delicious meals, but also court cases and evidence, too.

Dad raised his dark eyebrows, showing his approval. “That's great. Maybe you'll even get that grade up to an A by the end of the quarter.” Now he'd taken up residence in a fantasy world. That must be where I get it. Except Dad was usually so down to earth and practical. It helped in his line of business, I'm sure.

“Well, don't get your hopes up.” This I said with a smile, letting Dad know I was making a joke, yet gently reminding him that I am apt to use the right side of my brain and usually suffer through subjects strongly suited for left-sided thinkers like himself.

Dinner progressed like normal until Dad brought up the subject I was sick and tired of hearing about. I'd just finished the last of my dinner, and was looking forward to the cream cheese frosted brownie bites that Mom had just brought out from the kitchen.

“How's the practicing going?” asked Dad. “Only three days before the recital.”

I sighed loudly. “I can't wait.” Yeah, it had sounded sarcastic and Dad hated sarcasm…well, if he feels it has been used at his expense.

He set his fork down and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Andrea, I hear you've been a little tense over the recital.”

I glanced at Mom. She had a straight smile on her face and no real emotion in her eyes. It was the expression I imagine she would have used when litigating before a judge. However, at the moment, I would have preferred some compassion. I wonder how much she'd told Dad.

“Yeah, I guess I am a little tense. A lot weighs in the balance. I mean, it's all I've heard for the last month. Now on top of that I have to wow the reps from the performing arts school.”

“And getting into that school, and possibly Julliard, is what you've been working towards for the last ten years.”

“No, Dad, it's what
you've
been working for.” I couldn't believe I was actually vocalizing my feelings to my father. And it seemed that once the water overran the dam it was pretty hard to stop it up again. “I don't know what I really want. Sure, I love the piano, but get real. I am not going to be the best of the best. Even Colleen Deveroux is better than me and she's only eleven. She'll probably be a smash on Saturday, and I'll just have to suffer through my last two years at Aubrey.”

Dad scrunched his large eyebrows together. “Andi, if you would just focus…”

Hearing the word,
focus,
was the last straw in my delicate mental state. I snapped. “Focus? I'm sick and tired of hearing how I need to focus.” I stood up and tossed my napkin on the table to make my point. “I've been focused on piano since I was six years old and what have I gotten in return? Sore fingers and a ridiculous social life. Correction, no social life.”

“Andrea,” said my mother with wonder in her voice. “Where is this coming from? You have a social life and lots of friends.”

“Sure and we're a bunch of freaks—the lot of us.” OK, not Alisha, but I felt that would not help my argument. I couldn't face them a moment longer as I took off for the stairs and the refuge of my bedroom. The further I made it up the staircase, the angrier I became especially when I realized I'd missed dessert.

I flipped on the TV, but not even reruns of my favorite shows could do it for me. Time for my favorite DVD as I reclined on my bed. It's not like I could have concentrated on anything else. I needed some mindless diversion, and, seriously,
Sleeping Beauty
is one of the most romantic films ever with the prince who can dance. Thoughts of dancing and princes were much more preferred than realizing I had acted like a total child with my parents. Right now they were probably wondering what was going on with me.

I squeezed my eyes closed feeling convicted about how horrible I'd been.
Lord, what am I doing? I don't know what came over me just now. I guess maybe I've wanted to express those things to my parents, but I suppose I could have done it in a better way like in a note, or a song, perhaps even a mime routine. I've asked before, but I need to ask again. Help me, Lord! I seriously can't do this on my own because when I do, look at the mess I create.

The movie credits began and the theme song started, which somehow relaxed me. From my bedside table, I took out a box of cookies and plopped one in my mouth. Sure, I know it's kinda weird at my age to enjoy a cartoon as much as I did
Sleeping Beauty
. I mean, I could never tell Amy that this is my favorite movie or that an animated prince is the man of my dreams. Still, my heart does that pitter-pat thing the first time Sleeping Beauty sings and dances with the Prince. Way romantic!

Just as that particular scene ended, I heard a knock on my door. It was probably Mom trying to make peace between Dad and me. After pausing the movie, I sat up and brushed the cookie crumbs off my shirt before walking to the door and unlocking it.

It wasn't Mom, though. It was Dad. “You missed dessert.” He handed me a plate with several of the delicious brownie bites on top.

“Thanks.” I took the plate and walked back inside my room. I set the goodies on my bedside table and flopped down on the bed.

“Watching a movie, I see.” He slipped his hands into his pockets as he followed me into the room. His gaze examined the décor around my abode before glancing back at me. “Listen, Andrea, I know you've been feeling pressure from me—maybe too much by the way you acted tonight. It's only because I want the best for you.”

“I know, Dad.”

“You have a tremendous talent, and I don't want you to waste it. Do you know how fortunate you'll be if you get accepted to this school?”

“Yes, of course I do. I've heard it all before.” Boy, had I heard it and even remembered Bible verses on using one's talents to God's glory. “But Dad…” I sat up from my slumped position. “Would it be so bad if I didn't get in?”

He brooded over the question for a few seconds with his lips pursed out in thought. “Andrea, remember God is in charge of your future. Remain faithful to Him and he will remain faithful to you. Now if you didn't get in to the school, we'd work around it and see where the Lord leads. But think about when you do get in.”

I noticed he said
when
and not
if
. He sure was confident. “I am thinking about it. It's just things are…different now compared to when we sent in my application. I was fourteen, then.”

“That's true, but your goals haven't changed, have they?”

“No, I guess not, but sometimes I just want a break.”

He nodded his head. “I can understand that. So, take a break.” He crossed his arms over his chest with a smile on his face. “You're going to Bible study tonight. Forget about the piano, but tomorrow you need to get…” He was going to say focused, I know it. “…get, um, prepared for the recital.”

“OK,” I replied. “Amy did invite me over for a movie night with Alisha and Angie after Bible study.”

“Sounds like fun. You can even stay out a little longer tonight. Just make sure you're home by ten-thirty.”

Dad left, and I felt so much better. I mean, anxiety still rested around my heart, but the pressure of holding what I'd been feeling inside had been released. And really, it hadn't turned out too bad. I'd just relax tonight, practice some more tomorrow and Saturday, one way or the other, we would know about my future. Of course, if I didn't get in, Dad would probably have me playing in front of scouts from the Music Conservatory of San Francisco next.

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