The Sound Of Your Heart

FIVE

MILES

As the bell pierced through the air, signaling the end of our exam, I swiftly rose from my seat, relieved to have completed the test. Joining the stream of my classmates, I made my way towards the front of the classroom where Mrs. Dorsett stood, her usual air of elegance filling the room.

Mrs. Dorsett, a woman of wisdom with her brunette hair cascading down her shoulders, greeted each student with a warm smile as they handed in their test sheets. When it was finally my turn, I couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for her.

Still strikingly beautiful despite the gentle touch of old age, she possessed an aura that captivated those around her. Inevitably, there were always whispers among the male students, their glances lingering a little too long, hinting at their infatuation. Yet Mrs. Dorsett remained impervious to their advances, her fidelity unwavering.

As I handed her my test sheet, she reached out, her hand brushing against mine, and a genuine smile tugged at the corners of her lips. It was a smile that conveyed genuine pride, acknowledging the effort I had put into my studies. Grateful and encouraged by her recognition, my smile mirrored hers.

Our brief but meaningful exchange was interrupted by the voice of Clarice, Mrs. Dorsett's beloved wife, emanating from the doorway. Clarice, a vivacious woman of unmatched charm, had always been the heart and soul of Mrs. Dorsett's world. They complemented each other in a way that surpassed all conventional notions of love.

"Dear, the principal is looking for you."

Mrs. Dorsett's eyes sparkled, a twinkle of love framing her gaze with a graceful nod.

"Goodbye, Mrs. Dorsett!" I said as I waved my hand to her.

"Goodbye, Miles, and be careful on your way home," she said while busy receiving the test sheets of my classmates. I nodded and finally left the classroom.

As I walked towards my locker, I glanced at my wristwatch to check the time. It was still too early to go home, even though Mrs. Dorsett's class was the last one on my schedule. A smile curled across my face as I realized I still had enough time to visit the school's music room; perhaps it was still open.

Music has always been my passion, providing me solace and a means to express myself. The school's music room had become my haven, a place where I could escape the rigors of the academic world and lose myself in the melodies. With thoughts of exploring the vast array of instruments and capturing the joy of music in my mind.

When I arrived in front of my locker, the bustling hallways of Adamson High School faded into the background. With a sigh of relief, I punched in my combination and swung open the metal door. Among the chaos of textbooks and loose papers, one item awaited the key to my innermost sanctuary.

I carefully nestled my books inside the locker and then extracted a worn piano sheet from beneath them. The edges were frayed, and discoloration marked the spots where my fingers had lingered countless times. As my eyes traced the familiar notes and melodies, a sense of calm washed over me.

I closed my locker with a sense of relief, the weight of stress lifting from my shoulders. Finally, exams were over. As I made my way down the empty hallway, I couldn't help but revel in the silence. It was a welcome change from the usual bustling chaos of school life.

The year eleven, like me, had finished our exams early, while the year twelve were still entrenched in their final lessons. The library was deserted, and the cafeteria was eerily quiet. It felt strange to walk through these familiar hallways without the usual clamor of excited chatter and hurried footsteps.

I went through the halls of the 12th grade, tiptoeing slowly in an attempt not to disturb the ongoing classes. As I cautiously made my way down the corridor, my eyes wandered to Tyler's classroom. The door was slightly ajar, and I couldn't resist the urge to steal a glimpse of him.