Neovision Superstar: Part Six

     “Er- Hillary?” Michelle was poking me.

     I grunted. “What?”

     Michelle, Cassy and I were in the park, sitting in a tree and letting the sun’s rays bathe us. However, even the warm sun couldn’t warm my dreary heart. I felt kind of bad for ruining my friends’ weekend, but misery enjoys company, as you know.

     “Are you sure you’re okay?”

     “I never said I was okay.”

     I expected a response, but there was none. We continued to sit there, slight tension building between the three of us. Cassy eventually stretched out on a branch, and with a most unlike-Lupe move, hung upside down on the branch. “So,” she said. “What are we going to do about this little conundrum of ours?”

     It was a good question- I had been thinking about that a lot. I could mope around, like we were doing at that moment. Or perhaps just forget about Neovision and move on. Or maybe learn to read aloud.

     “Dunno,” I said, even though in my heart I knew what the right choice was. Why do we always have so much trouble speaking what our conscience tells us to say? Are we afraid of what others will say, or of what we’ll think of our self?

     Michelle and Cassy both shifted around awkwardly. Seeing as they were both green, they practically blended in with the thick leaves of the forest. They both obviously had something on their minds, even if they didn’t want to say it.

     “What are you guys trying to say? The suspense is killing me.” I was only half sarcastic. When I saw Cassy’s pained look, I saw I had hurt her.

     “Sorry,” I mumbled. “I just feel so worthless.”

     She swung back up, stood on her paws, then jumped up to my branch and sat beside me. “It’s okay, Hillary. We’re just trying to help.”

     Michelle nodded as well. “We’re here for you, Hillary.”

     “So what should I do?!” I said, exasperated. I leaned back so I was lying on the thick branch. I wanted to disappear, but seeing as my blue fur didn’t exactly go well with the brown bark, I was stuck.

     “Wellllll,” Cassy said, drawing out the word, “stating the obvious, learn to read aloud. You can already talk, you can already read, it’s just a matter of putting the two together.”

     I smiled. She was right. “But who should I get to teach me? I don’t want to burden you guys with teaching me the basics. But someone who I trust...”

     Cassy and Michelle glanced at each other, and there was a silent exchange of information that slightly worried me.

     “We have an idea,” the two said at the same time.

     ________________________

     “Um, Mrs. Vanderbalk, could I see you after class?”

     The Wocky pushed down her glasses to see me clearly. She could probably see me sweating like crazy from nerves, but she didn’t comment. “Of course, Hillary.”

     That was my friends’ brilliant plan: ask the teacher. I didn’t know why I hadn’t thought of it.

     I kept shooting looks at my friends throughout the day, and they always sent encouraging smiles back. Cassy even passed me a note saying, You’ll do fine. Teachers are meant to help you!

     When the finally bell rang, I nearly fainted. Cassy patted my back. “It’s okay. You’ll be fine! Michelle and I have to go right after school, though; we’re really sorry we can’t stay...”

     I nodded dumbly, not really hearing her. Everyone else in the class chatted happily, gathering up their books, discussing their plans on what they were doing that night. They were blissfully unaware of the torture I was going through at that very moment.

     “Yes, Hillary?” Mrs. Vanderbalk finally asked when the class had cleared out. She took off her glasses and placed them on a nearby pile of books. She sighed. “You wanted to see me?”

     I wasn’t sure how to start, and, even worse, I could feel tears building up in the back of my eyes. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, I chanted rapidly.

     “I can’t read out loud,” I said, the words pouring out just as the tears did the same. “I figured it out only a few days ago and I’m really stupid the words don’t even come out right even though they do now and now I have no chance of ever being on Neovision ‘cause I can’t even read a script and how could I have gotten this far without being able to read I feel so dumb-”

     “Whoa, whoa, Hillary, calm down!” Mrs. Vanderbalk said with concern etched on her face. “Calm down. It’s okay. Here, take this.” She passed me a handkerchief to wipe my eyes with.

     “I’m sorry,” I said, the words much slower now. “It’s, it’s just-”

     She stopped me before I could go into another tirade. “Hillary. Let me get this straight. You can’t read aloud?”

     “Yes.” It was hard to control my voice. Very, very hard.

     “Well. That’s certainly interesting. How you managed to not learn over the years is amazing.”

     I sat down in a chair nearby, my knees weak. Something suddenly popped into my head. “I think I may know. When I was young, I had NeoMites when we were learning the pronunciation of letters. My family... took a while to get the medicine, because it was so expensive. I missed about two months of Neoschool. Do you think that has something to do with it?”

     She nodded, and smiled encouragingly. “Yes, most likely. So, Hillary, what do we do now?”

     I sniffed back some of my tears. “I want to learn how to read. It sounds simple, and stupid, but it’s hard...”

     Mrs. Vanderbalk put her paw over mine. “You’ll learn, Hillary. Everybody has something challenging for them. The key is to know what it is, and then to conquer it.”

     “When can we start?” I asked, wanting to get as much of a head start as possible.

     “How about now?”

     I gave a weak smile back. “Sure. But where do we start?”

     Mrs. Vanderbalk went up to the blackboard and drew the alphabet. She turned to me, not unkindly. “At the beginning.”

     So, for the next two weeks, I stayed in before school, during lunch, and after class to learn how to read aloud. I profusely thanked Mrs. Vanderbalk every chance I got; she was giving up as much time as I was. With each new lesson, one, two or even three new letters were tackled.

     Mrs. Vanderbalk would go up to the blackboard once the class was emptied, put up a letter, and ask me to pronounce it. Sometimes I could, other times I couldn’t. “I never knew you could say a letter so many ways...” I mumbled after one particularly grueling session involving far too many vowels.

     Mrs. Vanderbalk would always laugh. “But you’re getting the hang of it, Hillary. You really are.”

     Eventually, she had me reading small sentences to her. They sounded short and choppy, as if a five-year-old had written them, but at least I was saying them properly. Then, after another week, I had progressed towards paragraphs, and by the end of the month, I could read a magazine article like a pro.

     After a lesson where I’d read a chapter from a novel, Mrs. Vanderbalk plucked the book from my paws and threw it on a different desk. With the afternoon sun pouring through the open windows, Mrs. Vanderbalk leaned against her desk with a grin. “Hillary,” she said. “You have completely mastered reading aloud.”

     I beamed. “Thanks. For everything.”

     She shrugged, but I stopped her. “Really, I said. You’re the one who’s taught me everything.”

     The Wocky smiled. “You did all of the work.”

     I picked up my books and shoved them into my bag. Next, I slung it on my shoulder and allowed the sun’s rays to bathe me in all of their glory. A sense of ultimate pride enveloped me at my accomplishment.

     Another goodbye to Mrs. Vanderbalk, and I left the classroom. My steps echoed in the hallway, and when I finally stepped outside, I breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe, just maybe, school won’t kill me.

     Something caught my eye as I left; on a pillar supporting the overhanging roof above the doors was a large green sign that had been posted on the pillar. I went over and read it.

     Neopian Chronicles auditions will continue this Saturday at 3 p.m. NST.

     My heart jumped. What was this? They hadn’t cast enough people or something? Either way, I thought that my joy would never end. The green sheet of paper seemed to call to me.

     Could I have a second chance?

     I really, really hoped so. My future depended on it.

To be continued...