Mrs. Patterson looked up this time, her eyebrows raised.
“That’s what I said, Chen.”
She said it the same way again, and a few students giggled. Lily’s cheeks turned pink, and she sank lower in her seat. She didn’t correct the teacher again. She’d learned in her last school that sometimes it was better to just stay quiet.
The music room was different from regular classrooms. Instead of rows of desks, there were instruments everywhere. Guitars hung on the wall like artwork. Drums sat in the corner. Xylophones lined the shelves, and in the center of it all, like a king on a throne, sat a beautiful grand piano. Its black surface was so shiny that Lily could see the ceiling lights reflected in it.
Mrs. Patterson walked to the front of the room, her heels clicking on the floor with each step.
“As you all know,” she announced, “the spring concert is only 6 weeks away. This is the most important event of the school year. Colleges look at these kinds of achievements. Your parents will be there. The whole community will be watching.”
She paused for effect, letting her words sink in.
“This year, I’ll be selecting students for solo performances. But not just anyone can perform a solo. Oh, no. Only the most talented, the most dedicated, the most deserving students will get that honor.”
Lily watched as several students sat up straighter, their faces eager. They wanted to be chosen. They wanted to be special.
Mrs. Patterson smiled at these students, the ones she clearly already had in mind. There was Timothy, who’d been playing violin since he was four. His parents were wealthy, always donating to the school. There was Rachel, whose perfect piano posture had been drilled into her by expensive private lessons. There was David, whose trumpet playing was actually quite good, though his confidence sometimes crossed into arrogance.
These were Mrs. Patterson’s favorites. Everyone knew it.