Chapter 29
Charlie stepped into the room with the energy of a man pretending he was anywhere else. The moment he saw the crowd of kids packed into the music room, his grin faltered into a tight, nervous smile.
"Wow," he muttered. "So many small humans in one place. This is... fine."
He clapped his hands together weakly. "Alright, um... Jake? Where's Jake?"
Three different boys raised their hands eagerly.
I sighed, stepped forward from the back of the room, and muttered, "Of course my name had to be this common."
Then I gave Uncle Charlie a smirk, watching the momentary panic cross his face.
I strolled up beside him, still smirking. "You were looking for this Jake. The original, some would say."
Charlie looked at me, deadpan. "You couldn't have just raised your hand like a normal person?"
"Where's the fun in that?" I replied.
He sighed. "Alright, let's see if we can herd this chaos into something vaguely resembling music."
But before he could turn back to the class, I raised my voice.
"Everybody, sit down."
In perfect unison, the entire class dropped into their seats.
Charlie's eyes widened slightly.
"Stand up."
Every student popped up instantly.
"Now roll."
Without hesitation, they dropped and rolled across the floor like a perfectly choreographed wave.
Charlie stared at them, then at me.
He murmured, half-impressed and half-bewildered, "Jake, you've got an army of obedient little gremlins... why would you even want to change schools?"
I shrugged. "Sometimes the general wants a bigger battlefield."
Just then, Alan walked back into the room. He paused, watching the kids roll around on the floor.
"Jake?" he asked, clearly confused.
"Okay everyone, stand up," I said, and once again, they all followed the command flawlessly.
Alan looked around, then casually walked over to Charlie, grabbed the bottle in his hand—which was very much not apple juice—and turned to leave.
"Hey—wait!" Charlie protested.
But Alan was already out the door.
A girl from the front row, Mary, crossed her arms and asked, "Are we gonna do our songs or not?"
"Hey, I'm just the piano player. Lerner and Loewe are out in the hallway working things out."
"Who?" she blinked.
"Lerner and Loewe? My Fair Lady? Camelot?" Charlie asked, exasperated. Then he looked around the room. "Aren't there any gay kids in here?"
I just shook my head at the comment.
Charlie sat down at the piano and started plunking out a few notes. "Alright, let's try something. How about this—"
He began to sing in a jingle-like tone:
♪ Steam engines, factory smoke, History's grind, ain't no joke We built a world from coal and steel Come on kids, let's make it real! ♪
He trailed off, grimacing. "Yeah, no. That's terrible."
He looked at me. "Any ideas?"
I crossed my arms. "Let's forget about the Industrial Revolution. I don't have a single song about that."
Charlie raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's gonna be a problem."
"Maybe," I replied, smirking. "But I do have one that might satisfy the adults in the room."
———
The day of the presentation arrived, and every student was dressed in white. The multipurpose room had been transformed with banners, streamers, and an anxious crowd of parents waiting in folding chairs.
I walked onto the stage with calm confidence. "We decided not to sing about the Industrial Revolution," I said into the mic, pausing for effect. "Instead... we're singing about something that matters much more — friendship."
A few parents exchanged looks, intrigued. Someone whispered, "Well, that's unexpected." Another leaned in and muttered, "Let's see where this goes."
Charlie gave me a small nod from behind the piano, then cracked his knuckles before placing his fingers on the keys.
The first notes echoed gently through the room. I closed my eyes for a second and then began to sing:
(Count on Me - Bruno Mars)
♪ Oh-oh-oh If you ever find yourself stuck in the middle of the sea, I'll sail the world to find you, If you ever find yourself lost in the dark and you can't see, I'll be the light to guide you
We find out what we're made of, When we are called to help our friends in need ♪
The audience fell silent, charmed and surprised. This wasn't a history lesson—it was heartfelt. A few parents nodded slowly, clearly touched.
One mom whispered, "That's actually... beautiful."
Then the chorus came in, and the rest of the class joined me:
♪ You can count on me like one, two, three, I'll be there, And I know when I need it I can count on you like four, three, two and you'll be there 'Cause that's what friends are supposed to do, oh, yeah Ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh Yeah, yeah ♪
After the chorus, I took the lead again:
♪ If you're tossin' and you're turnin' and you just can't fall asleep, I'll sing a song beside you, And if you ever forget how much you really mean to me, Every day, I will remind you, oh We find out what we're made of, When we are called to help our friends in need ♪
The second chorus swelled:
♪ You can count on me like one, two, three, I'll be there And I know when I need it I can count on you like four, three, two and you'll be there 'Cause that's what friends are supposed to do, oh, yeah Ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh Yeah, yeah ♪
And then, I closed the song:
♪ You'll always have my shoulder when you cry I'll never let go, never say goodbye, You know you can count on me like one, two, three, I'll be there And I know when I need it I can count on you like four, three, two and you'll be there 'Cause that's what friends are supposed to do, oh, yeah Ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh ♪
When the final note faded, the room was silent for a breath—and then erupted in applause. One dad actually stood up and clapped, prompting others to rise and follow suit.
"That," one parent said, wiping a tear from her eye, "was something special."
Charlie gave me a little smirk from behind the piano. "Kid's got style."
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