Hooded Beauty

Chapter 3

I tugged on my hood, making sure it covered an appropriate amount of my face.

As I walked down the school hallway the amount of students decreased by the minute, some jumped at the sound of the second bell which led to their immediate disappearance down the hallway. I kept walking trying to find the slightest hint that might lead me to the school reception.

"Hello? Anyone out here? Please? Hello? Hello?!" A frightened masculine voice radiated out of nowhere.

Where was that voice coming from?

"Hey! Girl under the hood! Help me?!"

What the - Did that sound just come from behind me?!

I stopped.

"I'm in the locker! No - not that one!" He said as I eyed the wrong locker. My eyes averted to a locker with a rope on its handles twisted into a bow tie, locking it.

"Yess! Im here! Please - Get me out?"

My god. A guy was stuck in a locker.

How?

"How can you see me?" I asked while untying the rope.

"Gaps of the locker. Duh. How else would I breathe?"

Right.

Once the locker was open, he fell to the ground.

"Are you okay?" I asked, offering him a hand up.

"I'm fine!" He snapped, grabbing my hand then adjusting his way too big glasses. Why did he have them on anyway? They were broken and he used tape, i repeat, tape, to hold it together.

Then I realized he's the same guy that was on my bus. He had a simple plaid shirt on and worn out jeans. "How did you get yourself in there anyway?" I asked, curious.

"I didnt get myself into the locker!" He retorted.

This kid has issues.

"I'm sorry, how did you magically appear in the locker?" If he was talking to me in that tone, then i guess two could play that game.

"None of your business" He replied sharply, shoving past me, "I can't afford being late for class"

He just can't get any friendlier can he?

"Hey wait! Do you know where the reception is?"

He was already gone.

A thank you would've been nice.

I had no other choice but to keep walking, passing classroom by classroom, overhearing teachers ramble on about Abraham Lincoln, chemical bonds of atoms, the piece-wise function, Shakespeare, and other useless topics you'll just forget by the end of the year. I shortened my pace as I heard piano playing, followed by the singing of a chorus.

Music class?

I ambled towards the door left ajar that seperated me from the choir, trying my best to peak inside without causing a ruckus.

All the chairs were clustered neatly in one corner while a piano lay in the middle. Near the teacher's desk, which lay in another corner, I could see an open cabinet filled with trumpets, triangles, tambourines, a pack of guitar picks, flutes, and pretty much any instrument that can fit into a box. I could see saxophones and different kinds of guitars that lay underneath the piano so no one could step on them. The only thing that took space besides the piano was a drumset. There were about four girls singing in chorus around the piano and a dark-headed man with a few streaks of grey playing it. That must be the teacher.