by C. L. Stone
“Come,” he said. “Take this.”
I slinked forward but kept my hands behind my back. “I don’t want to break it.”
“You won’t break it unless you’re careless.”
I sucked in a breath and held it, reaching delicately to take the violin from him. I cradled it between my hands, my fingers smoothing over the wood, feeling the cool material with my fingertips. Even the smell of the wood and polish and resin made me tremble with nervousness.
“We’re here to play, not to look at it.” His steel gaze settled on my face. He held out the bow.
I nodded, bringing the violin to my neck like I had seen countless times in videos and pictures. The violin was lighter than I expected it to be and yet the length of it made me feel clumsy just holding it. Taking the bow from him, I held it loosely between my fingers and I waited for instructions.
Mr. Blackbourne inclined his head. His fingertips traced my elbow and I lifted the violin higher. He repositioned the violin at my neck until the very center of it was pointed at the middle of my throat. He stepped around behind me, checking the angle from next to my head. “Do you see the strings? Do you see how I’ve positioned it?”
I looked, catching the straight line down the neck of the violin.
“This is how it should look every time you pick up your violin. You need to get used to this now. Keeping good habits from the beginning will make this more comfortable for you. Posture and balance are important.” His breath teased the back of my hair as he spoke. I smothered my trembling. He was so close, only he was so focused on my posture, I wasn’t sure he noticed.
“I understand,” I said. I elevated the bow, settling the horsehair strings on a spot against the violin’s bridge, ready to be directed to the next step.
Mr. Blackbourne straightened immediately, and snatched the bow from my hands. “Not yet,” he said, the sharpness of his voice returning.
I lifted my eyebrows in surprise. “No?”
“No.” He wrapped his hand around my wrist, moving the violin from my neck. “Now put it back where I placed it.
I did what he instructed, pushing the end of the violin to my neck.
“Check the strings.”
I looked and he was right. I adjusted the neck to hold it up straighter.
“Put your chin against the rest.”
I did.
“Let go of the violin.”
I blinked at him, shocked. Would he have me wreck his beautiful instrument? “I’ll drop it.”
“If you’re holding the violin right between your chin and your shoulder, you won’t drop it. Let go of the violin,” he instructed, his voice rising.
I hesitated. I couldn’t afford to pay for another one. Visions of the violin crashing to the floor and splintering into a million pieces floated past my eyes. He had to be crazy to trust me to hold on to it. “I don’t think I should.”
He seized my hand from the neck of the violin and pulling my hand away in a sharp motion. It jarred me forward and the violin nearly slid away but I pushed my chin down on the rest, hiking up my shoulder to hold to it. The violin dangled precariously.
He frowned, letting go of my hand. “Put the violin back into position.”
My fingers shook. I picked the violin up and put it back against my neck, checking the lines of the strings to make it straight.
“Now let go, this time without scrunching your neck.” His steel gaze penetrated through to my own heart, as if he knew exactly how fast it was beating.
“I almost lost it last time.”
“Now!” His voice intensified, echoing throughout the music room.
I closed my eyes. My hand slid away from the neck of the violin. I did my best not to move my chin or shoulder to try to compensate.
The violin rocked forward but remained balanced.
“Good,” Mr. Blackbourne said, softer this time.
I opened my eyes to gaze on the violin, noting how badly it shook as my body shivered.
He crossed his arms, circling me. I kept my hand down, fearing he would smack it away again. He stopped behind me. I looked out toward the opposite wall, holding my breath.
“You did well, Miss Sorenson,” he said softly. “It’s important for a young lady to speak up and ask questions, or even resist an order when a situation seems dangerous.” He treaded around again until he was facing me. He grasped the violin by the neck, taking it from my shoulder.
I gazed at the floor. He was testing me. Did he need to do this to teach me music?
His hand touched my chin. The tender fingertips lifted my head until I was looking back into those gray eyes.
“I also need you to trust me,” he said softly. “Beyond doubt. Beyond probably what you’ve ever been comfortable with in your life. If you’ll allow me the chance...” His lips pursed as he scrutinized my eyes.
My cheeks radiated with heat. My throat felt dry and I wanted to swallow but I was too afraid to move. He held me captivated by his command and confidence.
His eyebrow lifted and he let go of my chin, stepping back. “I expect you to have your own instrument by tomorrow.”
I felt my mouth drop open. “I...” There was nothing to say. Was he expecting me to just magically create one? How could I convince my parents to rush out and pay for a violin by that evening?
“Tomorrow.” His voice rose to that sharp severity. “Don’t come to class unless you have one.”
When the bell rang, I collected my bag and ran out into the hallway. There was no way I could get a violin by tomorrow. I felt my chest grow heavy with anticipation of the argument I would have to face with my mom that afternoon. I wondered if I would be back at all.
H ungry
Out in the hallway, I realized for the first time since that morning that I was walking without the boys around me. I slowed to a nervous pace. I had gotten used to their company. Without them there, I felt a little lost.
Now that I was alone, however, I wasn’t so distracted by the guys that I was able to check out some of the other students. As I tugged my bookbag tighter to my body, I spotted how some people would cluster along the walls of the hallways, talking with friends, holding hands. I even spotted a couple kissing in the shadows near a doorway. I blushed at catching someone in such an intimate moment and turned away.
As I walked, I couldn’t help but notice how people reacted whenever I was within view. Everyone seemed curious about every face they didn’t recognize. Would this girl like me? Would he make fun of my clothes?
A sharp whistle cut through the hall, a cat call. I twisted my head in reaction at the first tone. A group of boys leaned against the wall. They laughed together and I wasn’t quite sure if their whistling was meant for me or for any of the other girls around me.
“Sang!” Victor’s voice sounded from behind me. I turned in time to spot him trying to hustle past some other students to get to me. “You should have waited by the door,” he said. His cheeks were flushed. His white collared shirt looked rumpled. He smoothed some of his wavy brown hair back away from his forehead. “I was coming for you.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Mr. Blackbourne...”
“Oh. Yeah,” he said, smiling. “No need to say more. But next time wait for me. I’ll come get you.” He moved next to me so we were walking together.
“Sticking together?” I asked.
His slender frame seemed to move so elegantly next to me that I felt clumsy even though I was just walking. “It’s what we do.”
I smiled. “How was your morning so far?”
He shrugged. “It’s not the Academy.”
I blinked at him, surprised that he would say it out loud. “Isn’t that supposed to be a secret?”
“No one’s listening,” he said.
What he said confused me. I couldn’t figure out what this secret school must be like. I imagined dark hallways and masks and other students who were just as intelligent and beautiful as the boys were. Compared to the cracked tiles of the
floor, the lack of variety in the classes, and the rambunctious students of Ashley Waters High School, what would inspire nine people to bother with trying to make it better?
“So how was Mr. Blackbourne?” he asked.
“I need to get a violin by tomorrow,” I said. “Or I can’t go back.”
He smiled. “Yeah, he’s strict. Can you get one?”
“It’s kind of short notice but I’ll have to ask my parents. My mom isn’t too happy with me right now.”
His fire eyes flickered. “I can go get you one.”
I shook my head. “Victor, you can’t...”
“Is this the right way?” he asked. He turned his head, looking for the right door. I had a feeling he knew it was the correct way but he had wanted to change the subject.
We had to walk outside and down the long sidewalk to the trailer furthest away from the school, number thirty-two. While the crowd thinned out considerably the further out we went, Victor still walked close beside me so that his arm was slightly in front of mine. Anyone who gave us a glance might have thought we were holding hands. Was this how other friends walked together?
He opened the door of the trailer for me. North was already inside, sitting in the back row. I grabbed the seat in front of him and Victor sat in front of me.
“I’m in the middle again,” I said. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume you guys planned this.”
North playfully tugged at a strand of hair hanging in my face. “Baby, we plan everything.”
I didn’t doubt this. Now their plans involved me, dictating where I was sitting or who walked with me to class. Strange but I found some comfort in it. I only wished I knew what they knew so I didn’t feel like I was in the dark. Maybe it only took getting used to.
Victor sat back in his chair. I admired the way his wavy hair hung around his ears. The clasp to the cord at his neck looked to be hanging by the edge.
“Hold still, Victor,” I said, reaching to his neck.
At my touch, he jumped, rubbing where my fingers brushed his neck as if I had pinched him. “What is it?” His eyebrows creased together.
“Sorry,” I said. “Your necklace. The clasp didn’t look like it was holding on very well.”
His cheeks went red. “I thought it was a bug or something.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “I wouldn’t have touched a bug.”
“Well thanks.”
“Turn around and I’ll fix it.”
He hesitated and he glanced at others in the room. With his face still red, he turned around. I adjusted the clasp so the chain was secure.
“You’re going to lose it,” I said. “Be more careful.”
His fingertips smoothed over the surface of the medallion. I was about to ask him what the symbol meant but the teacher walked in.
Mr. Morris was a thin man, with a closely cropped head of dark hair and small eyes. He stood at the front of the room, his arms crossed over his chest and as straight as an arrow. “Good morning. I’m Mr. Morris. You can call me Mr. Morris or sir. I respond to either.” He moved to his desk and picked up a history book. “You’ll need to pick this up at the book store. You should always bring it with you to class. We’ll never have a day where we won’t be using it.”
The volume looked thick, even in his big hands. I sat back in my chair, my legs sliding a little under Victor’s desk. I sensed North leaning forward as I could nearly feel his breath on my hair.
Mr. Morris dropped the book on his desk, and the corresponding slam caused me to jump. “We’re starting with the Agricultural Revolution and moving quickly into Egypt and then the Persians. As such, I want a one page essay on my desk tomorrow about the Agricultural Revolution.”
There was a collection of muttering and a few groans.
“I’ll make it two pages. It’s no big deal to me how much you write.”
The class quieted down quickly. I chewed on my lower lip. Mr. Morris was going to be tough.
After class was lunch. Everyone surged for the doors. Victor, North and I lingered back well behind everyone else as we headed to the main building.
“This being in the trailers is going to get old quick,” North said. He stuffed his hands into his pockets as he walked.
“It might be nice,” I said, readjusting my backpack. “I mean getting out of the building into some nice weather should be fun.”
“It won’t always be good weather,” Victor said. “What about when it rains?”
I pushed my finger to my lower lip. “It’s not so bad. I mean with an umbrella and everything.”
Victor kicked a pebble off of the sidewalk. “We’ll see what you say in the winter.”
I had to smile at that. Did he not remember that I was from Illinois? I couldn’t imagine South Carolina getting a few feet of snow or being any worse in the winter than that.
When we got to the cafeteria, the place was hectic with students in long lines that stretched out into the hallways. All of the tables were teeming. People sat against the walls, too.
“I don’t see any of the guys,” I said.
“I found them,” North said, pointing out the window to the outdoor courtyard in the middle of the building. In one of the corners, I could see Silas’s head over the crowds.
When we got outside, I was relieved to see they were all there. They stood around one of the benches, with a collection of book bags piled up on the concrete bench seat.
“The lines are crazy long,” North said. “I don’t know how they get everyone fed.”
“I’m hungry,” Gabriel complained, gripping his stomach. “I don’t want to wait an hour for food. Tell me there’s an open campus policy.”
“Nope,” Kota said. He opened his bag and pulled out a wrapped sandwich. He split it with Victor. “No going off campus once you’re here.”
“There’s some vending machines in the front hallway,” I said. I glanced at Gabriel. “I’ll walk over with you if you want.”
Gabriel nodded. “Yeah, I’ll eat anything.”
I dropped my bag on the ground near North’s feet. “Keep an eye on it?”
“Grab some crackers for me, will you?” North asked. He dipped his hand into his pocket and found a couple of dollars.
I knew I was beaming and I couldn’t hide it. It made me happy to be somewhat useful to the group that was constantly doing things for me.
“And get me a candy bar,” Luke said.
“Are you going to give her money for it?” North asked.
“You just did.”
North shook his head. “Get him something a little healthier than candy, will you?”
Gabriel laughed and then grabbed my arm. “Come on.”
The main hallway was even more crowded than it was that morning. The cafeteria wasn’t big enough to accommodate over two thousand students at once. There was a line for the vending. We stood arm to arm at the back of the line for our turn.
“No wonder everyone here looks grumpy and gets into fights,” I said. “Everyone’s hungry.”
Gabriel said nothing, seeming distracted by students leaning against the trophy cases, some sitting down on the floor. I felt their eyes on us. I realized that Gabriel and I were dressed a little nicer than everyone else. Most of the other students seemed to be wearing jeans and t-shirts. The girls wore jeans and low cut tops. Gabriel and I stood out more here without the others.
The line crept forward. Machines spit back out dollar bills more often than they accepted them.
“What are you getting?” Gabriel asked.
“I wasn’t going to,” I said. “I didn’t bring any money.”
His eyebrows shot up. He brushed his fingers through the lock of blond hanging next to his eyes. “Then why did you say you’d come with me?”
I blinked at him. “So you wouldn’t go alone. I thought that was what we were doing. Always sticking together like Kota said.”
His crystal eyes lit up. “You dummy. Tell me what you want. I’ll get it.”
<
br /> “It’s okay, I don’t...”
“Just pick something.”
I hesitated. I had been so anxious that morning that eating wasn’t really a concern. My stomach was still rattling from nervousness now.
“Say something or I’ll buy you one of everything,” Gabriel warned. He poked at my arm with a lean finger. “Pick. Pick. Pick.”
“Maybe some crackers, please,” I said, relenting.
In the end, we returned with two packets of crackers, three packages of trail mix, a couple candy bars, and three bottles of water.
“What took you guys so long?” Luke said as we approached. He reached for a candy bar. “We were about send a rescue team.”
“You’re lucky we came back at all with stuff,” Gabriel said, opening one of the trail mix packages. “Even the vending machines were nearly empty. I was going to get more but we were taking too long and the line behind us was grumbling.”
I handed North some crackers and his change. He stuffed the money back into his pocket, ripping open the crackers.
I opened the crackers Gabriel bought for me. I noticed Silas eyeballing us. I smiled to him and pointed my package at him.
He started to wave his hand. “It’s okay,” he said.
“Eat one,” I said.
He reached and took a cracker, smiling. “Thanks.”
Gabriel handed some of the trail mix out to Nathan and Victor. “Welcome to fine dining at this fucking school.”
Kota shook his head and pushed his glasses up his nose. “Look at us scraping for food. This is ridiculous.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a package of chips. He opened it and offered it to the others.
“I guess the only answer is to bring stuff every day,” I said. “We’ll know better tomorrow.”
Between us, we managed to share Kota’s lunch and what we got from the vending machine and we shared the bottles of water.
As we stood there together, I recognized a few geek groups and a cluster of hippies sitting on their bookbags in the grass around the courtyard. Compared to the rest of the crowded halls of the school, the courtyard actually seemed peaceful. The weather was hot but if it kept the courtyard from being crowded, I thought it would be nice to sit outside every day. A small corner of peace from the chaos inside.