Everyone has a song that captures who they are. No one but Leila Gonzalez can hear them.
Melodies and tunes fill her head everywhere she goes, and all she wants is to replicate them in her songwriting. There's just one problem: she sucks at songwrit...
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A MELANCHOLICBALLADOF long lost love and a cheery jive wasn't a pleasant sound to mix, but that was always what greeted Leila when she pushed open the door to Soul & Strings. The shop was the only place to get instruments or any kind of musical lesson in Hillbourne, so she went in every Wednesday to get guitar lessons from Charles Harlow.
Melancholic ballad Charles Harlow himself wasn't in his usual placid mood when Leila entered the shop. He yelled obscenities at Enrique Ferrer, the owner of Soul & Strings. Mr. Ferrer crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back onto the counter beside the cash register, a blank expression on his face.
Leila wasn't sure if she should go back outside and pretend like she wasn't there, but Mr. Harlow turned his head in that fraction of a second and saw her.
"I'm through with this, Enrique," Mr. Harlow spit out. "I quit." Before Leila could unhinge her jaw at the revelation, her guitar teacher stormed out of the shop, pulling at his white and blond hair like he wanted to rip it out of his scalp.
The metal door slammed shut behind him, and Leila stared wide-eyed at Mr. Ferrer. He pursed his lips and shook his head, walking over to the other side of the counter.
"What just happened?" she asked. Mr. Ferrer didn't meet her eyes as he let out a disgruntled sigh.
"Sorry, Leila, but you're not gonna have lessons today," he said. She resisted the urge to cry out: no duh. Her guitar teacher of almost two years just quit his job right in front of her. She was certain that the guitar wasn't going to teach her the chords she tried to master on its own.
"What's going to happen to my lessons?" She continued inquiring. Mr. Ferrer rubbed at his forehead as the space between his eyebrows crinkled. She took a step back, cooling down her disbelief. "I'm sorry, I just want to know what's going to happen."
Mr. Ferrer softened his gaze. "I'll try to get someone in by next week, Leila. Can't have our most dedicated student go so easily, can we?"
Leila threaded her fingers together, allowing her lips to spread into a tight, shy smile. Ever since she decided upon learning how to play guitar, she stormed into Soul & Strings as a persistent fourteen-year-old and demanded for immediate lessons. Mr. Ferrer laughed at her forwardness and introduced her to Mr. Harlow. She hadn't stopped going since then, two years later.
She managed to win against Mr. Harlow, who quit before she could give up her endless efforts to get the chords right. Leila knew him to be the most patient man in Hillbourne. If he could deal with her terrible playing, then he could withstand anything, or so she believed. His rampage out of the music shop proved otherwise.
"Are you sure everything is all right, Mr. Ferrer?"
He pulled his blank expression back into a forced smile. "Everything is fine, Leila. I'll keep in touch to let you know if we find you, and the other kids, a teacher."
