Skipping Beats

Chapter 1

I start to brace myself as my body heads for the hard frosty ice. I land with a thud that makes my shoulders shudder from the impact.

I hear shouts from a little ways back, and I can't quite make out what they are saying because I'm too busy inspecting my hands and picking at the newly made scratches that are starting to turn a crimson color. I've always been ridiculously clumsy, I start to think about all the times I've found myself in a situation like this, when I am hauled up quickly and some one is in my face asking me if I'm okay.

It's Mads, she's always trying to look out for me. People always think we are related for how much time we spend together. Not to mention our similar appearances. Our dark brown eyes match along with our long narrow bodies. The only difference that's really noticeable between me and her is the contrasting textures of our hair. Her's is pin straight while mine is a crazy mess of curls.

She's actually blessed. Every morning I have to try and tame my unruly hair into a semi presentable fashion which is always a struggle. She waves her hand in front of my face and I start to focus in on her.

"Ella? Hello? Are you okay?"

I realize that I zoned out again and internally chastise myself; it's been happening a lot lately.

"Y-Ya I'm fine." I manage to stammer out, still a little shaken from the fall but nothing I haven't been through before.

"Thank goodness! I thought you almost died!" She rams into me with one of her signature bone-crushing hugs and I squeak out

"C-Can't...breathe..."

She jumps back with an apologetic look on her face. I just laugh at her concern and starting walking just as fast as I was before the fall causing Mads to try and catch up while sliding on the ice.

I laugh once again and push open the doors with a shove to the high school revealing all sorts of activities going on in the corridor. I look at my schedule and smile knowing exactly what first hour would be, symphony practice.

I step in to the small concert hall in the back of our school with my bulging case in hand. I greet those who I pass and head to my chair.

I pull my cello carefully out of the case along with a freshly rosined bow and start my warm-up exercises. I work my fingers up and down the board and saw away at the four strings until I am happy with the tuning and sound.

Everyone is finally getting seated and our director steps up to the podium. He taps his baton a few times on the stand and waits until everyone's attention was focused on him. He gives us a small smile and greets with a "Good morning class."

We all gave him the expected response of " Good morning Mr. Gull."

He is a stout middle-aged man with now graying hair. He always wears his bow ties and is about the only father figure in my life.

Thinking about this makes my heart wrench for my mother and our family, without our father's support our family has struggled financially. Some days I allow myself to think about when my father was still here, and the constant violence that came with those days, but now is not the time.

I clear my head of the dark thoughts and focus on my music. We are starting a new piece called Beethoven's Five Secrets, and it is one of my favorite pieces I have ever played.

The beautiful composing of Beethoven is mixed with the melody from One Republic's song Secrets creating a beautiful flowing melody that makes my heart melt every time we play.

Mr. Gull raises his baton and I set my bow on my strings anxious to start the piece.

We start with a graceful entry and when the music starts to pick up the pace and grow stronger I feel chills run down my arms as I let the music take me. My hands melt into my instrument letting the harmonies run out and fill the air.

Closing my eyes I relish in what is left of the song as we finish out on a resonating note. I open my eyes and smile to myself. Practice always leaves me feeling like this.

I look over at the person next to me, Brandon, he is smiling the same way I am and we give each other a knowing look. Brandon and I have been friends ever since beginner symphony and we have always enjoyed each other's understanding for our love of music.

It's nice to have someone to relate to. I start to put my cello up and head out the door, Brandon runs up behind me and pokes me in my side. I squeal and punch in the arm.

"Sup' Goldie Locks." he jokes.

I laugh and say "You know I don't like it when you call me that!"

He laughs and gives me a huge grin and answers with a sly "I know."

We continue to joke until we catch up with Mads at the end of the hallway. She is chatty as always and this time it is about some boy in her first hour that keeps making flirty eye contact with her.

Brandon and I laugh at her theories of the guys who like her as we head to our next hour. We stay laughing about her absurd stories until we part ways and make our way to our destination. I could already tell that this was going to be a long day.