STATIC (LGBT)

Chapter 5

“Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay.” Zoë said quickly batting her hands down on the wooden table as she said every syllable. “Stop.”

I brought my trumpet down from my mouth and took the mouth piece off from the instrument. I held it in my hand as she looked at the music sheet in front of me. She traced her index finger down the five-line stave I had just played.

“Look. This part is Allegro. Not Adagio.” I rolled my eyes at her as she poked my temple. “We’ll continue tomorrow. Try not to make it sound so depressing. It’s supposed to sound all happy and fun.”

 She took the sheet off from the music stand and went to the corner to pack her things up. Man. It had already been three weeks and I was incredibly tired of her giving me a piece after piece. I mean, I would even go back home not wanting to play anything more. Not even my own personal selection of music. So far, she’s given me these really horrible pieces that vary from really up-beat (or as much as classical music can get) to really excruciatingly depressing. This one, was supposed to be all merry-go-around but I wasn’t up to it today.

Zoë turned around before opening the practice room door. “Want me to give you a ride?”  

Every single day since I’ve known her, except for the first one, she’s offered to take me back home. Also, ever since I had my first motorcycle ride ever, I’ve decided I’m never going on it ever again. Much less with this adrenaline freak right in front of me. Maybe she could fool other people with her looks and simply pulling out of the parking lot, but not me. No way was I going on that thing.

“No.” I said as I put my trumpet inside its case.

I took my time with the rest of the equipment trying to put everything in order. I glanced quickly up to the door still feeling Zoë’s presence in the room. I think the fact she’s my age, she’s pretty, and has a really strange personality makes me feel really restless whenever we’re not interacting. It feels as if she’s trying to analyze me or something when she stares at me. Maybe that’s what I think because that’s what I do. I find myself sometimes trying to understand, I don’t really know why, the way she thinks and does things. The reason I do that is mainly because, after giving it some thought, I don’t understand why she agreed to the Director’s offer. I’ve been trying to figure it out without asking her and every time I feel closer and closer but never quite just there yet.

I looked up after finally packing my things to see Zoë standing at the doorway leaning her weight on one leg squinting at me. When she saw that I was looking at her, she open her eyes wide for a quick moment but then gave me one of her crooked smiles.

Did I mention already that I think she’s really strange? Well, she is. Her smiles always make me feel as if she’s hiding something and I hate that.

“So,” She said while she pushed the door open. She was waiting for me even if she didn’t have to. “Are you going to Chris Walter’s party?”

I snapped my head at her, “Ew. No. That jock’s party plus those snobs are a ‘NO’ for me.”

Zoë lifted her hands up in defense, “Woah. Okay wait up. I was just asking.”

“Yeah, right.” I said to her, “that’s a lie just as much as if I were to tell you I got invited.”

Of course. I wasn’t invited but pretty much anyone who was from school and put a lot of makeup on to disguise herself could go to one of those parties. I haven’t gone to a party in ages and I bet these are much more different than those ‘give us cake and then we leave’ ones. Now they’re all about drinking, sex, dirty dancing and sitting around being party-poopers.