5

 

The cello recital, like all recitals, had a strict no-escape policy. Which basically meant, if there were twenty-eight musicians performing and your kid was third, you didn’t get to sneak out the side door after he or she performed.

I think they might have even locked everyone inside.

I was twenty-third on the program, so by the time I went, most of the audience was tired and resentful. People were staring out the window. Cell phones were burning holes in pockets. And there was a lot of coughing and shuffling.

I began to play one of Bach’s unaccompanied sonatas. And here’s the funny thing: even though I was so mad at my parents—and mad at my cello, mad at basically everything and everyone—when I started to play, I forgot all about it. I got into the music. Like I said, I really like the cello. And I sounded pretty darn good.

Until I looked up and saw Mrs. Fleck.

Mrs. Fleck is Lucy Fleck’s mother. I told you Lucy was quiet, and an amazing piano player. But I didn’t tell you that she has the craziest mother in America.

Mrs. Fleck is the most intense person I’ve ever met, by far. She makes my dad seem like a marshmallow. She goes everywhere her daughter goes, watches her do everything, screams the loudest at her soccer games, claps the loudest at her concerts, complains the loudest when her grades are less than straight A pluses.

And not only that—she’s one of those parents who doesn’t like it when other kids do well.

So when I was playing my cello and I happened to look up and see Mrs. Fleck, she was staring at me and making this face that basically said, I hope you drop your bow.

So what did I do? I dropped my bow.

Yup. I did. It slid right out of my hand and clattered across the wood floor. Everyone gasped. Even the parents who had fallen asleep were suddenly wide-awake.

I sat in my seat for a second, not sure what to do. Then I mumbled “sorry,” went and got my bow, sat back down, and finished the piece. But the magic was gone.

I hated the cello again.

Afterward I went back to my seat, my ears burning with embarrassment. Two people later, Lucy Fleck performed some incredibly hard Beethoven piece on the piano and was amazing. She actually got a standing ovation. Mrs. Fleck jumped up and down like a kangaroo on steroids.

Meanwhile, all I could think about was that somewhere across town, Cathy Billows was having a party that I’d been invited to. Alex Mutchnik was there, probably telling dumb stories that everyone was laughing at, because I wasn’t there to tell funny ones.

What was wrong with this picture?

Everything.