“Do you?” Mrs. Patterson’s eyebrows went up in exaggerated surprise. “Well, then this is wonderful because I believe that every student who shows interest should have an opportunity to demonstrate their abilities. Wouldn’t you agree, class?”
A few students nodded uncertainly. They didn’t know where this was going, but they could feel something strange in the air.
“So, Lily,” Mrs. Patterson gestured toward the piano bench, “why don’t you sit down and play something for us? After all, if you’re so interested in the piano, you must have something to share.”
Lily’s face went pale.
“I… I don’t…”
“Oh, come now. Don’t be modest.” Mrs. Patterson’s voice had an edge to it now. “You watched the other students so intently. Surely you’ve learned something. Unless,” she paused dramatically, “unless you were just pretending to be interested, because that would be dishonest, wouldn’t it?”
The other students shifted in their seats. Some of them looked uncomfortable. They might not have liked Lily, might not have even noticed her before, but this felt wrong somehow.
Even Timothy, Mrs. Patterson’s star pupil, frowned a little. But Rachel, who’d been taking piano lessons since she was five and thought she was the best pianist in the school, smiled. She’d seen the way Lily looked at the piano. She didn’t like it.
“Go on, Lily,” Mrs. Patterson said, her voice sickeningly sweet now. “Show us what you can do. Everyone’s waiting.”
Lily looked at the piano bench. Then at the classroom door. For a moment, it seemed like she might run. Her whole body was tense like a bird ready to take flight. Her hands were trembling at her sides.
“I really don’t think…” Lily started to say.