The Orchestra

January

Nick walked down the empty corridor toward the library, his footsteps echoing in the silence. He was one of the few students whose schedule was rearranged for the new term, and he had been lucky enough to snag a spot for private study. If he was smart, he would use the time to finish homework or start his projects, but he was getting pretty good at finishing homework en route to the next class. Charlie would chastise him if he knew Nick was wasting his free period, roaming the halls instead of working.

Charlie was new. Well, new to Nick. They sat next to each other in form, said 'hi' to each other in the halls. He was kind, wicked smart, and had a laugh that warmed you from the inside out. He seemed different from Nick's usual friends, different in a good way.

Nick rounded the corner, his footsteps now joined by the faint sounds of trumpets, clarinets, and drums from the music department practice rooms. The trumpets blared loudly, and clarinets squeaked like mice. The drums, however, were bearable. More than bearable, they were enjoyable. As Nick listened, he realised he knew the song that was being played. Without thinking, he walked over to the practice room door, peeking through the narrow glass window.

He recognized Charlie instantly, the younger boy's dark curly hair falling slightly in his eyes as he drummed, noise-cancelling headphones dampening the sounds from the drums. Despite the effort of drumming, he looked more relaxed than usual. Carefree. Nick smiled to himself as he watched and listened.

"Oy, Nick." He jumped away from the window, brushing a hand through his hair. It was one of his rugby friends. "You coming to the library? I heard they'll kick us out of private study if we don't show up."

"Oh, um, yeah, that's where I was going." He followed his friend, the sound of Charlie's drumming becoming fainter and fainter.

—

Nick sat in form the next morning, idly doodling on the edge of a paper. He hadn't stopped thinking about Charlie's drumming, how talented and natural he was.

"Hi." Charlie's voice was light and airy, a pleasant contrast to the loud and obnoxious voices of the other boys in the room. His cheeks were flushed from being out in the cold before school started.

"Hi," Nick replied, smiling brightly. He twirled his pen in his fingers. "Why didn't you tell me you play the drums?"

"What?" Charlie laughed, shrugging off his winter coat before sitting.

"The drums. I saw you practising yesterday in the music department. You sounded really good!"

"Oh? Are you spying on me now?" Nick blushed, shifting in his seat. He hadn't spied, had he? Just admired. Which maybe sounded just as bad. Charlie giggled at Nick's nervous expression. "Yes, I play the drums. I don't know, It's not very special, I'd never really thought to mention it."

"But you are really good," Nick pressed, Charlie now blushing at the compliment. "How long have you been playing?"

"Since I was nine. My mum and dad said I was always banging on things around the house as a kid, and I begged them all the time for lessons, so when I was nine they finally gave in and let me have a kit. And the rest is history, I guess." Charlie shrugged. He sometimes felt awkward when people praised him. He didn't always feel like he deserved it.

"That's really cool," Nick replied, smiling at the thought of a young Charlie playing the drums. "It was cool watching you play yesterday. And, well, it made me think - what if I joined the orchestra?" Charlie's heart beat quickly. Why did Nick Nelson want to join the orchestra?

"I promise, it's not as cool as it looks," Charlie explained. "We're just a bunch of nerds playing the boring music Mr. Davies assigns to us."

"I could be a nerd playing boring music," Nick said. Charlie gave him a doubtful look.