by Ginny Clyde
“Yeah. He wanted me to sit beside him but I told him I am sitting with you.”
“Shut your face,” gushed Stacie, her eyes widening.
The phrase made me frown even though I knew she didn’t really mean to tell me to shut up.
“He wanted you sit with him? So, he’s actually interested in you.”
I didn’t know what to say to her. Ryan Hargrove was more of a stalker than anything else. Most times, it annoyed me and got me uncomfortable, but there had been times when I was grateful for his presence.
“Olivia, hello,” said Stacie, waving her hand in front of eyes. “Get back to earth.”
“Are you going to the auditorium later today?” I asked, changing the topic.
“Yes! I was going to tell you about the music competition. I am in charge of setting everything up, make sure the instruments are ready to go, greet the competitors that are coming from the other schools and hand them badges.”
“Won’t you be missing classes?” I asked as Stacie was in all the classes with me.
“I will catch up and the teachers give me permission because I am part of the student union,” explained Stacie.
“That’s great, then. I’ll find you once I get done with my classes. I won’t stay long though. My shift at the new job starts at four thirty.”
Before Stacie could agree to the plan, the school bell screamed the start of lessons. Jonathan Brown came in a second later, smiling warmly.
“Did everyone finish the exercise problems?” he asked, his gaze sweeping through the student body.
I squirmed in my seat. My exercise book was empty. With a start, I realized I hadn’t done a single school work that week. Guilt washed over me. I had assured Sarah of my capabilities to handle both work and academics. It was worse for me to accept that I was failing my own standards.
Doing my best to avoid Jonathan’s gaze, I promised myself to study that evening after coming back from Bramble’s tea shop. The class progressed to limits. I made a lot of notes in my book but barely understood much. It subdued me because I had always been a serious student at the Academy, almost always among ranking among the top ten in my year.
I let out a long slow breath when class got over.
“I am off to the admin building,” said Stacie, stuffing her books into her bag.
“Why?”
“It’s a free period now. I am going to collect the ID badges and go over the names of the incoming students. I will make a list with their names and add the members of our team to it.”
I felt a slight pang of disappointment.
“Have you gotten your library card yet?” she asked.
“No.”
“Get that done today. Once the assignments start piling up, you will need the books and space to get things finished.”
“That’s good advice. I have a lot to catch up with,” I said, determined to study that evening. Some reference books would definitely help.
“I may not be there for English,” said Stacie, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “But, I’ll definitely meet you for lunch.”
I got up to leave after her and headed towards the Jefferson Building that housed the library. A cool breeze was blowing through the grounds. I would soon need jackets and coats. The cropped black blazer that hung from my closet was the only one I had packed while leaving home.
Nearing the Jefferson Building, I spotted James emerging out the doors with a group of boys. They were deep in discussion about something. Envy stole through me as I watched him with his new friends. It was clear to see that he was already popular among them.
The group passed by, not even sparing me a glance. I let out a sigh and walked inside the building.
A heady scent of coffee from the ground floor café wafted towards me. The shelf beside the counter was full with trays of baked goods. I peeled my eyes away, promising to treat myself when Bramble paid me my salary.
It was not long before I was issued a temporary card that would allow me to use the library until my permanent access arrived. It allowed me to use the space, but not check out any of the books.
I spent the rest of the free period studying a reference calculus book. I didn’t get far, but it felt good to get started.
The next class was English. I sat in the back row with Ryan Hargrove beside me. All through the hour, Jenny and her friends kept turning back to glare at me. It didn’t help matters when they would catch him muttering things in my ears from time to time.
When the bell sounded, I rushed out of my seat to find Stacie. Even one of Stacie’s friends with whom I ate lunch would be great company at the moment. I wondered if it was ungrateful of me to avoid Ryan Hargrove. However, just the thought of being near him made my heart thrum wildly. It was just the kind of reaction I had every time he looked at me with those fiery blue eyes.
To my relief, Stacie was already sitting with two of her friends in the cafeteria. She waved at me and I could feel my face breaking into a big smile. Quickly collecting my lunch, I hurried over to them.
“How is the event management going? I asked, taking a seat beside her.
“Great. I submitted the list to Mr. Varner who heads the music club. Next thing to do would be to make sure the auditorium is clean and everything else is in order.”
“Good luck,” I said, taking a big swig from a juice box. The rest of the day would be dull without Stacie, but the prospect of spending some time at the music competition kept my spirits high.
My eyes roved around the cafeteria. I saw James at a table, tightly packed with boys. They all had similar muscular builds. It baffled me to see how boys could pack together over sports and James had barely been there even a week. I went back to the sandwich on my tray and listened to Stacie explaining about the competition.
After lunch, I went on to sit through the rest of the classes. I kept checking my watch, hoping it would turn to three P.M. soon.
When the bell finally rang for the end of class at three, I gathered my things and strolled down the stairs of Washington Building. A late afternoon sun washed the campus in bright, cool sunlight. I followed a throng of students heading towards the auditorium. It was the crowd that showed me how popular the music club was at Knightswood High.
The auditorium was a three-storied building, painted in a shade of beige to match the rest of the school buildings. I spotted Stacie at a different gate. Catching my gaze, she waved at me. She gestured me to go to her. Leaving the main entrance, I walked to meet her at the smaller gate.
“What’s up?”
“I thought you might like a backstage pass,” said Stacie with a smile.
“Thanks,” I said, extending my hand.
She laughed louder. “I am your backstage pass. You follow me.”
I grinned, happy to not have to sit on my own in the auditorium. I looked back at the students who continued to line at the main entrance gate.
“Is this a big event? It seems popular,” I commented.
“The music and drama club at Knightswood is one of the best in the state. The teams win something or the other each year at state level competitions.” She paused to let three girls enter the backstage area, and then looked back at me. “You should seriously consider joining the music club, Olivia. You play so well.”
“I’ll think about it,” I said, already considering it. Then something came to my mind. “Is Jenny part of the club too?”
“She sings,” said Stacie, frowning. “If Mr. Varner accepts you in the club, you don’t have to worry about her. He’s strict about bullying and ragging. He does not tolerate such behavior.”
Her fiery speech about the mysterious teacher made me smile. “Like him much?” I said with a grin.
She turned bright shade of crimson, surprising me.
“Is he that handsome?” I chuckled.
She nodded shyly. “And nice too.”
“Is that why you take up so much responsibility at the student union?”
She blushed deeper but no
dded.
I was intrigued to see this teacher now. Most of the people teaching at Knightswood were middle-aged or elderly. They dressed plain and professional. Mr. Varner had to be different if he caused such a reaction in my friend.
After a while, Stacie led me inside the auditorium. I was surprised at the size and sophistication of the halls. It could definitely seat over five hundred people at a time. Students gathered in the seats that rose in tiers like in a movie theatre. In the crowd, were a number of boys and girls wearing different school uniforms. They were easily spotted among the rest of the Knightswood High’s jumbled clothing.
“This way,” said Stacie, leading me towards the backstage area.
Several students were gathered there too. Most of them looked tense. Some wrung their hands and studied their music books. A few sat aloof, brooding by themselves. Only one group of students in blue checked shirts and navy pants and skirts appeared confident. They huddled together in a corner with smug, superior looks about them.
Pulling Stacie close to me, I asked, “Who are they?”
Her gaze followed the direction I pointed to. Her soft features morphed into a scowl. “They are students from St. Paul’s Academy. I don’t like them.”
“You know them?”
“Not personally, but they are bad news. They are what you call ‘filthy rich’ kids and believe the world owes them something. Just look at them smirking…like they have already won the competition.”
There were a few grown-ups lurking about, but since Stacie did not point at any of them, I didn’t think Mr. Varner was among them.
“What are they waiting for? I thought the competition began at two.”
“It did. Each member of the group performs their specialty instrument solo. Points are scored on how well each member does. Knightswood High never got eliminated in the history of the competition,” bragged Stacie.
“We shall see,” said a tall boy from St. Paul.
The smirk on his face made my skin crawl. His pale gray eyes were shadowed by locks of dirty blond hair as they stared down at me and Stacie.
“We will not lose,” replied Stacie, crossing her arms and standing her ground.
“We will start the piano performances,” said a voice on the loudspeaker.
“It’s Mr. Varner,” squealed Stacie.
“Last, but not least, it is Knightswood High’s turn at the piano,” said Mr. Varner’s magnified voice. It was met by loud clapping and cheer. “Please welcome, Mr. Andrew Carr.”
His announcement was followed by pin drop silence. I craned my neck to see the stage through the gaps in the curtains, but the piano seat remained empty.
“Something’s wrong,” whispered Stacy. She rushed among a group of students and began asking for Andrew. From the anxious looks and mutters, even I could sense something was not right.
“Guess we’ll be making history today,” said a voice behind me.
Turning back, I saw the boy from St. Paul’s Academy. He grinned at me, cocking his head to the side, his eyes roving all over my body. “You’re like a breath of fresh air among these riffraff. What’s your name, sweetheart?”
I scowled. I was part of the ‘riffraff’ now. Refusing to answer him, I turned back towards the stage.
The boy sniggered and walked past me. To my astonishment, he sauntered to the center of the stage and tapped Mr. Varner on the shoulder. With a sudden movement, the boy snatched the teacher’s microphone.
“Looks like Knightswood High will be disqualified from the competition this year. A team cannot perform with an absentee musician,” said the boy into the microphone.
“Andrew is probably stuck in the bathroom or something,” said Mr. Varner, leaning towards the microphone and chuckling nervously. “He’ll be here. Give him a minute. He knows how important this is.”
At the same time, Stacie ran past me onto the stage. I saw her whispering something into Mr. Varner’s ears. Even from a distance, I could make out the frown forming on his face.
“Is he coming?” asked the boy, in a deceptively innocent voice.
Stacie ran to the corner of the stage and brought a microphone for Mr. Varner. She spoke inaudibly, glowering at the strange boy. Mr. Varner put a hand on her shoulder, halting her from talking further. Her face crumpled. She walked back to me with her shoulders drooping. Looking closely, I saw her eyes were welling with tears.
“What happened? Where is Andrew?” I asked.
“Andrew got sick. He is vomiting continuously since lunch.”
“Our school can’t seriously be disqualified for that,” I said. “Andrew got sick. It’s not like he didn’t show up at all. I’m sure they can take it into consideration and mark the team based on the performances of the other students.”
Stacy shook her head. “The rules state clearly that every team member has to play.”
My gaze went to the Knightswood High students. The girls were already sobbing, while the boys ground their teeth, holding on to their last strength to not break down.
“Is there no one else who can take Andrew’s place?” I asked.
Stacy looked up at me. “You could. I heard you play the other day and you’re great.” A smile blossomed through the tears.
“Don’t get mad ideas, Stacie,” I said. “I was just suggesting that another team member play in his place. There’s got to be a backup player.”
“There’s not. Andrew is the only one who plays the piano in the team.”
“Settle down, everyone,” said Mr. Varner’s magnified voice. “Mr. Andrew is too sick to play this afternoon.” He breathed a few times before delivering the bad news.
“Is there no one else?” I asked with urgency.
“No,” whispered Stacie, her brown eyes wide and imploring.
This was insane. I bit my lips and strode forward onto the stage. “Err…Mr. Varner,” I mumbled.
Turning towards me, he looked at me blankly. Swallowing my nervousness, I asked, “Could I take Andrew’s place? I can play the piano.”
“Who are you?” he asked, his eyes narrowed at me suspiciously.
“I am Olivia. Olivia Buchannan.”
“Mr. Varner, I can vouch for her,” said Stacie, who had come to stand beside me.
He stared at the two of us, deep in thought.
“She can’t possibly play,” said the strange boy, shoving Stacie out of the way. “According to the rules, she has to play some other instrument. Not the piano. She can replace Andrew and his piano in the team only if she plays another instrument. Can you do that, darling?” he asked, leering at me. “Play an instrument that no one in the team has touched yet?” His eyebrows rose up until they seemed to disappear behind his long blond bangs.
My eyes went to the pile of instruments that sat on the stage. There were flutes, a cello, drums, guitars and many others. A bagpipe lay on the floor and looked like no one had used it yet.
“Has anyone used that?” I asked, pointing towards it.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” said the boy, turning away and openly laughing. “The lady wants to play the bagpipe,” he spoke into the microphone.
Most of the crowd laughed, but some looked on as if hoping for a miracle.
“Quit already,” cried a student wearing the St. Paul Academy uniform in the front seat. She was joined by her friends with boos and jeers.
Ignoring them, I looked at Mr. Varner.
“Go for it,” he said. Switching on his mike, he said, “Miss Olivia will be performing the bagpipes to replace Mr. Andrew and his piano. The stage is yours.”
The claps from the audience were heavily punctured by jeers. Stacie gave me a thumbs-up and hurried backstage. The obnoxious boy retreated as well, giving me a last sneer. Mr. Varner took up his place at the furthest corner of the stage.
Taking a deep breath, I walked to the place where the bagpipe lay. I picked it and wiped the mouthpiece and said a little prayer. I adjusted the bag, the drones, and the drone cords, all the while ignoring
the loud calls to quit.
Taking a deep breath, I began playing. As soon as the familiar tune of Scotland the Brave came pouring out of the bagpipe, I was transported to a bright sunny day in Edinburgh’s Royal Mile Street.
I and three of my friends had gone out to the popular tourist area to put on a show to collect money for Maude, one of the dorm watch guards. Maude was the one to bribe if you wanted to bring food and drinks into the dormitories to celebrate. She was getting married that summer and had told us about her dream wedding dress. She’d been upset at the cost and we had taken it upon ourselves to get her the cash she needed.
In the heart-pounding tune of Scotland the Brave, the booing crowd disappeared. It gave me the courage to continue playing. It drowned out all noise, leaving me to focus only on the music.
When I stopped, there was a momentary silence followed by loud clapping and cheering. I couldn’t help but look for the St. Paul Academy students in the crowd. Every one of them sulked and glowered at me. That was enough praise for me. Within a minute, Mr. Varner was beside me. He patted me on the shoulder, shouting ‘well done’ in my ear. I spotted Stacie jumping like a maniac in the backstage.
Suddenly, a loud screeching bell sounded in the auditorium. My heart lurched. I looked at my watch and my heart stopped. It was four P.M.
Bramble’s tea shop! My shift! Putting the bagpipe down, I ran into the backstage area. Colliding with the students there, I rushed out through the exit gate. My bag swung wildly on my shoulders as I ran towards the school’s deserted main gate.
My heart pounded from the sudden exertion, but I couldn’t stop running. I had to get to the shop in time. I was already supposed to be there. They had told me to arrive at least half an hour before my shift started. The excitement of the auditorium had wiped everything off my mind.
A loud honking broke me out of my thoughts. I ran to the sidewalk, but the car continued to honk.
“What is it?” I cried, turning around.
I froze as my gaze went to the person sitting behind the wheel. It was Ryan Hargrove. He threw open the door to my side and shouted, “Get in!”
Without another thought, I jumped inside the car and closed the door. He hit the accelerator immediately and we shot forward.
