Chapter 4

Miss Ho, the only Music Teacher in Regent Secondary School, had the nickname “Miss Asshole”.
She was one of the infamous teachers in our school. If she was in a good mood, music lessons would be a walk in the park. If she was in a bad mood, she would punish us for irrational reasons. She had gotten that nickname as she was always in a bad mood.

That day, Miss Ho was in a better mood. She smiled when she entered the Music Room and I knew I was in luck.

“Take out your recorder and-”

I raised my hand. All my classmates looked at me. I put on my best smile and suddenly, Miss Ho’s smile vanished from her lips.

“Miss Ho, can one of us take Music as an ‘O’-Level subject?”

Miss Ho glared at me. A few wrinkles strained on her forehead. Some seniors claimed that she was over forty but a few teachers dismissed that. They said she was only thirty.

“If only you prove yourself to be capable of scoring well, young man. Are you interested? Can you play the piano, guitar or any other instruments? Are you musically talented?”

My smile did not leave my lips. “I am not but she is.” I turned to Lara. Lara’s mouth was wide open. She stared at me, cocked her head in an awkward position and her face started to turn from red to white, then white to red.

Miss Ho turned towards Lara. I gave Lara a thumbs-up sign and nodded.

“What can you do, young lady?” Miss Ho pointed at Lara. Lara shook her head.

“She had written a song and she sings real nice.” I said, giving Lara another thumbs-up sign. I knew she could do this. If she conquered her stage fright, she could be as popular as Stephanie Sun.
“I asked her, not you.” Miss Ho said.

“I… can write songs and sing songs.” Lara stuttered. She was closing her eyes as she said that.
“Whatever. Can you play the piano, guitar- forget it. Just sing a song.” Miss Ho muttered. “Don’t say I didn’t give you a chance.”

A few seconds of silence were constructed. Lara was shivering. I held out my hand and tried to grab her but I could not reach her. “Come on. This is your chance.” I whispered.

Lara stood up. She looked at me through the bend of her eyes, stared up at Miss Ho and slapped her fingers. Then she started.

In a sorrow space,
In my deepest dreams,
I remember, I remember seeing you
I remember your eyes
I remember your smile
I remember you

In a lonely night,
As I remember, I remember,
I remember hearing you
I remember your words
I remember your breath
I remember you

Chorus:
As I feel cold, I feel cold,
You give me your clothes; you give me your warm
As I feel hungry, I feel hunger
You give me your food; you feed me with life
As I feel down, I feel depressed
You give me hope; you feel me hope
You are here

In a sorrow space,
In my deepest dreams,
I remember, I remember seeing you
I remember your eyes
I remember your smile
I remember you

Chorus:
When I feel cold, You are here
You take off your shirt; you suffer for me
When I feel hungry, You are here
You give me biscuits and make me feel full
When I am down, You are here
You are here, always here, telling me:

“I’ll do anything, almost everything, to protect you.”

When she finished, the whole Music Room seemed to lose all its air. Everyone was looking at Lara. Lara gritted her teeth, looked around her, cleared her throat and sat down on her chair. She was still shaking.

“Wow.” I said. Following that, all our classmates gave Lara a standing ovation. “Bravo!”

The applause lasted for at least a minute.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Actually, she did not start that smoothly.

Her first few sentences were shaky, a clear indication that she was nervous. But as she went on, her voice smoothen and the tune was so melodious that a few of us gasped. At the end of her song, some of the girls were wiping tears off their eyes.

Somehow, I felt the lyrics familiar. As if… I had heard them somewhere before. Or said them somewhere before.

“Great!” I yelled again, forgetting that this was a class and Miss Ho was there.

“Quiet! Sit down, everyone!” Miss Ho shouted. It took us more than a minute to settle down. Lara was flushing. She smiled so broadly that her lips might crack. I gave her one more thumbs-up sign and nodded.

“Can she take Music as-”

“Music is not just about singing. If you’re so interested in singing, go join Project Superstar or Singapore Idol. Do you know how to play the guitar? No? Piano? No? Are you musically talented? No. You just know how to sing.”

Miss Ho took her recorder and swung it in front of us like a cane. “Music is about music.” she said. “So don’t think you can take music just because you can sing. I’ve heard better songs.”

I bent my head down and looked up at her. My lips were shaking and within a few seconds, my heart was thumping faster than usual. I balled and then unclenched my hands a few times.

“Now-”

“Miss Asshole.” I said.

“What the hel- What? What did you say?” Miss Ho was saying.

The muscles in my neck stiffened. I lifted my head up, glared at her and this time, said louder, “I said, Miss Ho, you deserve the nickname ‘Miss Asshole’.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I was suspended from school for a month because of what I had said to Miss Ho.

Fortunately, we had just finished our Secondary Two Streaming Examinations so the year-end holidays were cornering. I was just having an early holiday. While my classmates had a two months holiday, I had a three months holiday.

Having nothing to do for the three months, I found myself a part-time job at Jurong East Entertainment’s McDonald’s. That place had always been a hang-out place for teenagers. They posted me to do the cooking inside the kitchen and I was paid $2.40 an hour. It would be higher if I worked till closing hours.

One of the days, I saw someone familiar at the restaurant. It was Lara, wearing her school uniform. I asked for permission to speak to Lara as I knew she was there to look for me.

We had not spoken to each other since I was suspended from school. She was wearing a long face when she came.

“I’m sorry about that day.” Lara said. We both knew which day she was referring to.

“It’s not your fault. It’s that asshole’s fault. Well, finally, after so many years, she now knows her nickname.” I said and laughed. When Lara did not laugh, I felt like saying something to console her but was not able to find the appropriate words.

“Hey, it’s not your fault, alright? It’s my temper.” I wanted to hold her hand but I did not.

“Your name is going to be listed in the Beta Form. Sorry.”

“Come on. Boys shall always have their names listed in those punishment forms. It makes us cool. You want some burgers?”

She shook her head. “I’m meeting someone.”

I took a quick glance at my watch and waved to her. My Floor Manager walked out of the kitchen and I froze. “Sorry Mr Low, my friend came and I already told Ki-”

“Hey, relax, dude.” My Floor Manager, Mr. Low, said. According to some of my closer colleagues, he was twenty-four years old. He had joined McDonald’s when he was fourteen and had been working part-time there since then. He was a full-time medical undergraduate at National University of Singapore and worked only during the evenings and weekends.

I was about to rush to the kitchen when he grabbed my hand. “Friend of yours?” he pointed at Lara with his chin. I nodded.

“Good for you.” he said.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Three days later, when I was frying fries, I heard from my colleagues that a new part-timer was joining us.

“As young as you.” one of them told me. “Same school as you. Female.”

I tried to think of all the possibilities. Susan? She was always complaining that she did not have enough money to spend. Joy? She loved McChicken.

In the end, Lara came. She never complained about money, nor did she have an exceptional love for McChicken. What was she doing here?

I did not have the chance to talk to her till the end of her orientation. After work that day, I confronted her.
“To make money!” That was the reason she gave me.

“But…” I could not think of anything else to say. What could I say?

“Take bus together?” she said. We had a direct bus, bus number 198, to our houses.

And so, we went back together, with my portable CD player as our companionship.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Hey dude, you know what they said about that girl and you?” Mr. Low asked.

I had been at the job for over a month and had become closer with Mr. Low. Now I called him Xian as his full name is Low Zhong Xian. Lara was posted to be a cashier and had to face customers daily. After every working day, I would take the same bus home with Lara. A few days ago, Lara had requested Xian to schedule her working hours the same as me. Xian agreed readily.

“What?” I said. We were on our lunch break and as usual, having burgers and fries.

“You two make a cute and great couple.” he said. “Cutie couple. Seriously speaking, you two can be one. One’s tall and handsome; the other is petite and cute.”

I munched on my burger and ignored him.

“Hey, let an old man give you an advice, eh?”

“Come on. You’re only twenty-four, twenty-five. How old can you be?”

“Whatever. Tell you, try to hold her hand. You know, like in the movies? When crossing the road, or when she’s going to fall down, hold her hand. Then don’t let go. Best!”

“Are you kidding? You think we’re in some movies or some Low Kay Hwa’s stupid melodramatic novels?”

“Hey, movies and novels reflect real life. Trust me on that, dude.”

He slapped my back so hard that I nearly vomited out my food. Hold her hand when she’s going to fall down? Crap. I turned to look at Xian. He was talking to another girl, advising her on how to hold a guy’s hand.

I laughed. To think that someone like him desires to be a neuroscientist or a doctor.

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