Unstoppable

AMBER -

Oh God, he’s looking at me again! Brock Landry is looking at me. Amber Stone. Insignificant, average Amber Stone. Why is he looking at me? I can’t take it. No, I’m sitting beside Avery Prescott the head cheerleader. That has to be who he’s staring at. It can’t be me. There is nothing remarkable about me. But Avery is every guy’s wet dream with her long blond hair and big boobs. Not to mention she’s taller which gives her long shapely legs.

Should I look again to make sure? I say to myself. No, dummy then he’ll know you think he’s looking at you when he’s clearly looking at Avery. That little voice in my head that badgers me with all my insecurities is practically screaming at me for being stupid enough to think a hot guy like Brock would be looking at me. The bell rings loudly, causing me to jump with a squeak from my seat. Embarrassed and red cheeked, I gather my things and start to leave class.

“Hey Amber,” a large hand clasps my elbow gently. Looking up I’m shocked at the owner of that super sexy voice and soft hand. It’s Brock and he’s smiling at me.

“H-hey Brock.” I hate myself for stuttering.

“I didn’t get the chance to tell you yesterday you have an amazing voice.” His smile is genuine and his eyes twinkle as he stares at me.

“Oh, thank you,” I say, barely above a whisper. “I love to sing. JuJu says I was gifted by the angels when I was born and the gift was so big it came out my mouth.” Oh dear sweet baby Jesus why did I just say that?! But instead of looking at me as if I’ve grown a second head, he laughs.

“Aaron was right, Amber. You are ridiculously adorable.” With a wink, he leaves me standing in the middle of English Lit. When I can finally breathe again, I sigh and roll my eyes.

“Great. Of all things to be, he thinks I’m adorable.” Groaning I hang my head and leave the room.

“Hey bestie,” Miranda nudges my shoulder. “Whatcha thinking about? Oh wait! I bet he’s six foot two of deliciousness with that sexy bedhead and hazel eyes?” Miranda smiles and wiggles her eyebrows. I can’t help but laugh. Miranda was my first friend when I moved here from a small parish in Louisiana. I hated leaving my precious JuJu behind but I knew my place was with my mom after my dad left. My mom got a killer job and I couldn’t bring myself to be selfish by staying in Louisiana. So, I packed up my belongings and moved across the country to California. If it hadn’t been for Miranda, I would hate every minute of it.

“What about you, Miss Thang?” I snark back. “Thinking about all that Viking hotness wrapped up in a boy named Magnus?” I hadn’t missed the sparks between Miranda and Magnus during the impromptu jam session yesterday. Miranda sighs and bats her lashes comically.

“Uh duh,” she says. “As if there’s anything else I would be thinking about! I mean…woah.” I giggle.

“Yeah I have to admit he’s very handsome.”

“So” Miranda elbows me. “Tell me about Brock Landry! I’m dying here!” I just sigh and roll my eyes again. I tell Miranda about the conversation in the classroom as we walk to our next class together. Miranda loops her arm around my shoulder.

“Well you are ridiculously adorable, Amb. But you are also fierce and insanely gorgeous. I’d kill to have your curves and don’t get me started on that voice!” Miranda always knows what to say to cheer me up when I’m feeling sorry for myself. “I wouldn’t worry too much though. If you saw what I saw while you were singing, you’d be climbing that boy like a tree.”

“Miranda Elaine Frazier! I would do no such thing!” My face is as red as my hair. The thought of climbing Brock like a tree was…well….tantalizing to say the least but I am not that kind of girl. “I am not that kind of girl and you know it!” I’m mortified but the image is now set in my mind. Miranda on the other hand is dying laughing, to the point tears are streaming down her face.

“Oh my God, Amber I love you so much!” she squeaks out between giggles.

“You know Miranda, not everything has to be about sex. I get that you find it freaking hilarious that I’m still a virgin and that comments like the ones you just made make me blush. But I’m in no hurry to tramp it up like the rest of the girls around here.” I really love Miranda but sometimes she can take things too far. This is one of those times and I feel the tears sting the back of my eyes.

“Oh honey I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” Miranda gathers herself together, wiping the tears from her face. Then she hugs me. “I can be a bit too snarky for my own good sometimes but I do love you, you cute little fairy!” With a noisy kiss on the cheek, Miranda runs off down the hall to catch her class while I walk into mine. And right into the back of one Brock Landry.

“Whoa there, gorgeous,” he says as he spins around and catches me before I hit the floor. His strong arms wrap around my small waist and set me upright as if I weigh nothing.

“I’m so sorry Brock! I wasn’t paying attention.” I’m breathless but it isn’t because of the near fall. It’s because of the tingles I’m feeling while in his arms. There is that slow sexy smile that sets the butterflies to fluttering in my stomach.

“It’s ok, Amber. Are you ok?” God, I could get lost in his eyes.

“Um yes, I’m ok. I’ll take my seat now.” I clamber around him and head to my seat. Breathing deeply as JuJu taught me, I feel my pulse calm down and my heart settle to a steady rhythm again. It’s enough to get me through class without too much hassle. Thank goodness it’s getting close to the end of the day. I’m not sure I can handle much more!

The bell rings again and I’m surprised I made it through class without embarrassing myself again. I make a mad dash for the choir room before he can say anything to me. Now I can concentrate on my music and not think about Brock. Or his beautiful eyes. Or his sexy smile. Stop it, girl! You have a competition to prepare for! My inner diva shows up and pushes me to get ready for practice. I’m working on an old arrangement of one of the songs JuJu sang to the troops when she toured with the USO. It always brought the proverbial house down and the soldiers had loved her for it.

My voice instructor, Mrs. Anniston, is waiting for me by the piano. “Oh there you are, dear. Let’s get you warmed up.” Mrs. Anniston sits down at the piano and runs me through my scales. Once my vocal cords are sufficiently awake, I start working on the song. I imagine my Juju as she sang, hoping my grandmother’s talent and love for the song will flow through me. After several run throughs, Mrs. Anniston closes the lid over the keys.

“What’s wrong, Mrs. Anniston? Am I that bad?” I search my instructor’s eyes for any indication I ’m a total screw up. But all the woman does is giggle. Mrs. Anniston pulls an envelope from her briefcase and hands it to me. The seal of Berkeley College of the Performing Arts is emblazoned on the front with my name written in elegant script.