Day 8

A continuation from Day 7. Still very bad.

He stopped going to the old music room as the coach called for more practices to be held. Not that Seth really needed it, having been crowned as the Nationals Champion for the past consecutive two years since he entered high school. Academic studies and sports came easily to him; he wasn’t proclaimed a genius for nothing after all. He did sort of missed the little music concerts in his corner, it felt like a little secret between him and the mystery pianist, not that the pianist knew that he was listening outside the music room. But he didn’t know he was really bothered, until Jen reminded him of it.

“Hey, Seth, where do you go when you’re not having lunch with us? Could never find you in the caf or the classrooms.”

“Oh, here and there, you know. The school’s actually not that big,” he shrugged, “Hey, I think I’ll be skipping lunch today. Need to see Mrs Oakley for some lame ass homework.”

“Sure thing, man. We’ll be at the table if you wanna catch us!” Jen yelled after him.

Lucas arched an eyebrow at Seth’s retreating back, and he murmured to himself, “Hmmm… pretty sure Mrs O hasn’t assigned any work this past week. It’s been one of those experimental spontaneous readings this entire week.”

No one at the table paid him any heed, as their second ace player was well known for his eccentric mumbling.

***

The door of the music room was opened today, though no music was being played. Instead, he heard angry voices floating out of the room, the sound of harsh words floating out easily, like the beautiful music had done so in the past.

Slowing to a walk, Seth debated if he should be listening to the heated conversation as it was clearly a private conversation and he would be hard pressed to explain himself if he were caught eavesdropping this time.

“Well, she’s just a slut! Always hanging around those football guys! Why the fuck do you even like her?!” One of them shouted, sounding entirely pissed off while he waved his arms about dramatically.

“Shut up Del! You think I’m okay with this? Do you know how angry I am at myself!” The other boy replied, his own voice equally loud.

“Shit, Alex! Calm down, you dolthead. Where’s your inhaler?” The one called Del started to root around in one of the bags on the desk, all the rage having escaped him for the moment. “Hey, hey, breathe, alright? I don’t wanna do some mouth-to-mouth on you and get idiot germs on me.”

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s