Grade 8

Was volunteered to play,

The memorial ceremony,

Was two days away.

I’m at the piano,

Thinking how life’s too bad.

In walks E.. From the seniors.

Everybody knows her, G7 to G12,

Drooling, saying she’s gonna be someone.

What to do when you are faced ,

With the hottest girl in school?

There must be some mistake,

I know she sings, but would she bother?

I feel exposed.

She smiles to me,

Straightens her shirt,

The neckline showing too much goodies.

No, there’s no mistake.

No, it’s really true,

She’s here to sing at the memorial.

She asks my name,

I say ‘piano’ ,

Obviously confused.

She comes close,

leans over my shoulder,

Looks at the chords i scribbled .

She asks me if we can get to work,

Because she has math later.

Oh, to study math..

I start playing and she sings.

She’s not amazing, not close,

But hormones are a perfect equaliser,

When you’re doing Harmony.

As she sings,

I need to slide myself,

Closer to the keyboard,

To hide the bulge that formed.

I imagine things and play,

Finally she catches on,

Just how ‘threatened’

i am.

She doesn’t mind,

Admiration is what she lives on,

She sings and plays with my hair,

My ridiculous jew-fro,

And i doubt very much that ,

I made no mistake, with the chords.

After the service,

And the guys asked me,

How i got to play with her,

I say, idiotically , “practice”.

Play it cool, cause I’m a dork.