Beat Girl | Chapter #10 Between Us

Leaving the studio, I wondered why I hadn’t even considered telling Amy about meeting Toby. I wondered why that was. Of course, it was early days, and I doubted a guy like that would ever really date someone like me; but seeing as Amy and I told each other everything, that shouldn’t have been an obstacle.

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1. Chapter #10 | Between Us

 

Leaving the studio, I wondered why I hadn’t even considered telling Amy about meeting Toby. I wondered why that was. Of course, it was early days, and I doubted a guy like that would ever really date someone like me; but seeing as Amy and I told each other everything, that shouldn’t have been an obstacle.

 

I then cast my mind back to the only time Amy and I had fallen out. It was over a guy. It was while Amy was still studying and he was in the same class. When I met him, he didn’t feel right for her. I made the mistake of telling her that, and she took offence, saying I hadn’t given him a chance. Amy kept on seeing him so all I could do was sit back and observe, knowing that she would get hurt, yet unable to prevent it. There was something about the guy that I didn’t trust. His true colours started to show when they were preparing for their final student show, which could potentially be a very important presentation as the most promising students would often get head-hunted by scouts sent from all the major fashion houses.

 

I had visited Amy during the show’s rehearsals and I noticed her boyfriend’s designs – they were a blatant copy of Amy’s work. I immediately drew her attention to this, but she seemed to be in complete denial, saying that it wasn’t unusual for different designers to come up with similar looks each season. I wasn’t buying it and stalked over to the guy, confronting him and accusing him of only going out with Amy because he wanted to steal her ideas. Amy was mortified and we had a major bust-up right then and there. I stormed out, not staying to see her show. Afterwards, I heard from Steve that there had been controversy over the two similar collections and both Amy and her boyfriend had been called up to see the school principal. When I tried to call Amy, she wouldn’t answer the phone and refused to speak to me. It took a lot of mediating from Steve to finally get us in the same room. Amy forgave me for my outburst, but never admitted that I had been right in my opinion of her boyfriend. For, straight after that visit to the principal’s office, the guy broke it off with her, leaving her devastated.

 

We never once mentioned that incident again; it was a taboo topic and we both steered clear of it. Ever since, I had been very cautious about discussing any guys that she liked. It was telling that she didn’t seem to go out with anyone for any length of time after getting so badly burnt with her first love, and I felt for her. It struck me now that the reverse had never really come up, in that we had never really talked about guys I liked, simply because there never seemed to be any. It was, therefore, a novel situation. Maybe I was afraid of another falling-out.

 

Ironically, given how Amy had fared with a fellow student, I had always wished I could meet someone in music school. There was no plagiarism danger lurking in our work, and I felt that only someone immersed in music to the same degree I was would truly get me. I had avoided guys from the ‘outside’. If I really examined what that was all about, I reckon it was the fear of my mother’s fate repeating again with me. I thought that guys who didn’t understand what it took to become a serious classical musician would sooner or later insist that I either ditch the music or I’d get ditched.

 

I knew it was a bit of an exaggeration to think all guys would act like Tom, but I couldn’t let it go. Unfortunately, so far I had never met anyone in music school that I liked in that way, so I decided that my soulmate must be waiting for me at Juilliard, my promised land. All the more reason to find a way to get there, I told myself. Which brought my thoughts right back to the refused scholarship. I ran down the street, arm outstretched, in search of a taxi. I couldn’t be trusted to be alone with my thoughts any longer. 

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