Shaking

Thirty minutes. I had thirty minutes before I was supposed to go on stage. Thirty minutes before the lights would shine on me. Thirty minutes before I made a fool of myself in front of everyone. 

"Would you just relax, Mari," Astra, my best friend, said, but I couldn't. I was pacing a hole in the floor. Gosh, my hands were shaking so bad, I knew vibrato wouldn't be a problem. But, what if I dropped my violin? What if my bow was shaking? What if…

In thirty minutes, I would get up on stage and play my violin for the talent show. Astra and my brother Noah would be there, but that wasn't what was freaking me out. See, our group’s talent was very specific. We had been studying music for years. We were known for our ability to improv, to make something up on the spot. So, whatever we played up there would be completely original. None of us knew what would happen on stage. None of us even knew what notes we’d start with. 

Before all of this, Noah and I had bounced around in the foster system from ages five to eight. All that time, music was all we had. One of our first families had gifted us with two cheaply made violins. We never had sheet music though, so the two of us would just improv before we even knew what the word meant. That family had two musical kids of their own. They gave us lessons before they sent us away. 

We kept those violins, though, even after we grew out of them. Two group homes later, we landed with Astra. Her family adopted us as Astra became my best friend. That was two years ago. Now, this was my chance to pay her back for all she did. I had never done that enough. Still, it didn’t change the fact that I hated the stage. 

“Why did I agree to this,” I muttered. Astra had asked both me and Noah to recruit us for the talent show. She’d been vying for the trophy for the past three years, so Noah and I agreed immediately. Now, I regretted my decision. I definitely wasn’t a piece of coal; I didn’t do well under pressure. 

“Mariposa, relax. We’ve practiced this,” Noah sighed. 

“We’ve practiced playing together. When we go out there, we’re just winging it,” I corrected and let out a shaky breath. 

"We've done this a thousand times."

"We did this a thousand times at home. This is different," I exclaimed and let out a breath. “I need some air.” With my hands still shaking, I pulled open the stage door. The cold air was bad; the rain made it worse. I debated going back inside, but I knew that I'd just be reminded of what I had to do. 

"You can do this," I muttered to myself, repeating it like a mantra. If I said it enough, maybe it would come true. I tried not to think of the real reason I didn’t want to step foot on that stage, but that only made the thought stand out more.

If I went out on that stage and completely ruined everything, what did I had left? Music was my thing. It was one of the only things that had followed me in those years in and out of group homes. 

"Mari, are you okay," Noah asked, joining me under the awning. Gosh, did he really have to join me? Was he coming out here to give me a pep talk? To tell me not to worry?

"I'm fine," I replied instead. He looked me over, and I knew he could see right through me. The downside of being a twin, I supposed. He would never believe my lies.  

“Do you remember the first time we stepped on stage,” he asked, staring at the rain. 

“Of course I do,” I scoffed. It had been for a recital when we were seven. Noah, being the brother that he was, elected to perform a duet with me, and that might have just saved me. Halfway through the short piece, I froze. The lights were blinding. All those eyes bore into my soul. But, Noah kept going, and after a few moments, I was able to join him. If he hadn’t been up there, I probably would have run off the stage.  

“Do you remember what I said to you then,” he inquired. 

“Don’t worry. I’m right here. Just look at me, and let everybody else fade away,” I quoted. 

“And, every word holds true now,” he continued. “Just lose yourself to the music, Mari, and everything else will fall into place.”

"I know." He cocked his head. 

"So what's wrong?" I couldn’t tell him. He’d laugh for sure. But, I couldn’t lie to him either. He’d see right through me and demand the real answer. So, I gave him a half-truth. 

“It’s just, well, with the trophy and everything,” I started, but Noah just laughed. 

“Is that what this is about,” he questioned. 

“Yeah, kinda.” 

“Astra doesn’t care about the trophy.”

“I beg to differ. She wouldn’t stop talking about how cool it would look in her room.” 

“Astra doesn’t care about the trophy, Mari. We’re just here to have fun.”

“He’s right,” Astra said, appearing in the doorway. “Sorry, the doors are pretty thin.” 

“It’s okay, Astra,” I muttered. 

“The trophy isn’t what matters, Mari. You know that, right,” she asked, sliding her hand in mine. 

"You know I never liked the stage. I just wanted to help you, Astra," I murmured. 

"You are, Mari, just by being here. You heard Noah. Just look at us and lose yourself to the music." I smiled despite myself. You’re not alone anymore, I thought. I had more than music, more than Noah. After years of bouncing around, I actually had a family. This was my family. And, my family needed me. I couldn’t back out. 

“Okay,” I muttered and glanced at my watch. “Oh, gosh, we have to go tune.” 

“Then what are we waiting for,” Astra exclaimed. “Let’s go.” I smiled, a weight lifting off my chest. Yes, I thought. Let’s crush this thing.