“Hey, Bri, are you trying to imitate Mr. Yates again, because that sweater looks like it has to be at LEAST 400 years old?” I teased, as he ran into choir, barely making it before the bell rang.

“Alright, class, let’s warm up,” Mr. Turner yelled, turning around to face the piano.

“Ha ha ha. You’re SO funny, Mel!” Brian responded, the sarcasm dripping from his voice, as we tried to hold a conversation and warm up at the same time.

“Seriously, though, what’s with the Mr. Roger’s outfit?” I asked, making a quick inspection as he got situated.

“It’s for Intro to Business. We were supposed to pretend like we had an interview with a company. I went last, so I didn’t have time to change,” he offered.

I just nodded, trying to stifle a yawn.

“Tired?” he asked, noticing my unsuccessful cover-up.

“I had this killer project for English that kept me up all night,” I sighed, as another yawn managed to escape.

“Knowing you, I’m sure it’s brilliant,” he smiled. I just nodded, too tired to even acknowledge his compliment.

And so another choir class started. We had been working hard for our annual end-of-the-year performance coming up the following month. We were doing some traditional songs, but we were also doing an original composition from one of our senior classmates, Brandon, and a rag time performance, complete with dancing.

I had always been a shy person, never really having a lot of friends, but also not a total misfit. I had a few friends at school, but I wouldn’t consider myself popular by any means. There were only about three or four people I saw regularly outside of school, and one of them was my friend Brian Littrell. We had met our freshman year at Tates Creek High, in choir, and had been friends ever since. He was one of the few people who had made the effort to get to know me, and because of it, he was one of the few people I had opened up to.

We were now in our junior year of high school, though Brian was a year older than everyone else. He had been held back a grade when he was younger due to extended hospitalization because of a heart defect. Luckily, Brian survived and was planning on going into ministry music, and I was hoping to pursue my dream of being a radio DJ.

“Mr. Littrell, Ms. Davis, you’re up,” Mr. Turner called. Brian and I were usually always partners when it came to the dance routines because we usually ended up with the leads. Brian has the voice of an angel when he sang, and many people said the same thing about me.

The routine started out with just Brian and I onstage, singing the intro, before the rest of the choir rushed onstage, joining in. I knew that most of the girls in class were jealous of the fact that I got to be Brian’s partner because he was one of the most popular guys in school, but he was one of the few that didn’t have an ego or any ulterior motives. To most of the female student body, that made him perfect. I won’t lie and say that I didn’t find the guy attractive, but he was my friend, so it was kind of hard for me to see him in the romantic way. Besides, I wasn’t looking for a relationship. I had too much other stuff going on; I didn’t really have time for a boyfriend.

As we were rehearsing, every time Mr. Turner would turn his back to us, Brian and I started acting up, causing the class to crack up. However, we had become experts at avoiding getting caught, so Mr. Turner could never really blame anything on us.

Choir went by in a blur, like it always did. I loved singing and performing, so it always seemed like time just sped by in that class. Brian and I gathered our bags, making our way to Mr. Yates’ history class, our last class of the day.

We were sitting in our chairs, laughing about something or another when we heard a cough behind us. We turned around to find Mr. Yates glaring down at the both of us. “Mr. Littrell, you’re wanted in the office,” he said, handing Brian a note, before walking to the front of the room. Since most high school kids haven’t matured past 5th grade, the whole crowd started ‘oooh’ing and making calls like “Someone’s in trou-ble.”

I didn’t see Brian for the rest of class, only seeing him again in the parking lot after school.

“Hey Bri. What happened in the office? You didn’t come back to class,” I questioned as soon as I reached him.

“My cousin called. I’m flying down to Florida tonight,” he responded, obviously trying to hold back his excitement until he could gage my reaction.

“You’re going WHERE?” I screeched.

            “Florida. My cousin is in a singing group, and they’re looking for one more member. I’m going to try out, but I’m sure I’ll be back by the end of the week,” Brian explained, trying to ease my shock.

            “I’m never going to see you again, am I?” I asked sadly. “You’re going to go off and become this huge internationally known star, and I’m going to be stuck in my boring, mundane life. Who else is going to make fun of Mr. Yates with me? Who is going to be my partner in the choir performances?”

            “Don’t be silly Mel. There’s no way I’m going to forget about my friends back home. And what do you mean who will be your partner? Do you KNOW how many guys have asked me to trade partners with them over the years?” he joked.

            “Yeah right! You KNOW how shy I am,” I scoffed. “Besides, it won’t be the same as dancing with you. I’m not really friends with most of the people in choir. We can’t all be as social and popular as you.”

            “You’ll be fine,” Brian promised, pulling me in for a hug.

            “I’m going to miss you, Bri,” I whispered, afraid to talk too loud in fear of breaking down.

            “I’ll miss you too, but I’ll call while I’m there. I promise. And like I said, I’m sure I’ll be back by the end of the week,” he promised. “I’ve got to go home and pack.” I just nodded, knowing I would cry if I spoke. “Bye, Mel,” he called, climbing into his car and speeding away, a smile on his face.

            “Bye Bri,” I whispered to the empty parking lot, the tears slowly tracking their way down my cheeks.

            I had been right when I said I would never hear from Brian again. Sure, he called a couple times over the next months, but then it was like he disappeared off the face of the earth. Every time I called him, I would get the answering machine, and he never returned any of my calls, so I eventually gave up.

            A couple of years after he left, his band started gaining popularity overseas, so they started doing shows in Europe and Asia. When they finally made it big in the U.S., I was living in Atlanta, working at one of the top stations in the area, Star 94.

            When Brian had called in his old choir classmates to help him with the song “The Perfect Fan,” I was on an assignment in L.A. and unable to attend.

Life went on, and eventually, I got promoted to the morning show, becoming one of only a few solo morning hosts on American radio. I still did the occasional concert feed or celebrity interview, and I had become one of the most popular DJs in the Atlanta area. I had changed my on-air alias to Hope Davis, instead of using my first name, Melanie. It helped me keep some of my privacy, which I was grateful for. Every so often, though, I find myself wondering what Brian was up to and if he even remembered me.