It Can Only Get Better From Here

Chapter SEVEN

I ran down the hall and around a corner. I pressed against the wall, my hyperactive mind racing like it was at NASCAR. And it was winning. 

'Calm down, Kitty Katt!' I instructed myself, using the nickname my dad called me. 

'There is no proof that it was Abbey.' I slowed my breathing just a little. 

I have no solid proof. It wasn't her. Not many people can get to know a voice in one morning. 

'But you are one of the few who can, with a memory that's almost photographic and records noises like a memory card.' A little voice in the back of my head that I have grown to hate decided to ruin everything. 

I groaned inwardly. 'Shut up voice, I don't even give a shit about what YOU have to say.' I started walking again. The music room was in my sights. I walked faster and faster until I was jogging. The new brace made my knee feel amazing. 

I burst through the doors and couldn't believe what I saw.  

There was a main room for jam sessions, as well as multiple smaller rooms with cute names like "The Rebel Bass" for the same instruments. I felt as though I was in a dream as I walked through the room.

"Hello, miss! Welcome to the music room!" A bright, overly friendly voice called my attention. "Have you been here before?"

I shook my head. "Well, could I interest you in a tour?"

"Um... no thank-you. I'd rather figure it out on my own. But thanks anyways." I walked away from the friendly worker. I didin't want her breathing down my neck while I familiarize myself with the instruments.

Excitement tingled through my body. I quietly entered the guitar room. It had no cute name, which suited me just fine. There were twelve guitars all around the room, six acoustic, six electric.

I wrapped my fingers around an acoustic, steel strung Yamaha guitar. It was a classic.

I sat on one of the chairs. I checked the tuning, only adjusting one of the strings. I began to play a few chords, adding riffs in every once in a while. I closed my eyes. It was the most relaxed I had felt for a long time.

I felt as though I was being watched, so I opened my eyes. I was playing "Dust in the Wind" by Kansas. A crowd was gathered around the door of the guitar room, with people staring at me wide-eyed.

It wasn't a very difficult song. "Hello..." I murmured, then carefully placed the guitar back down. I squeezed through the crowd and entered the bass guitar room. "The Rebel Bass", it was called. I giggled at the Star Wars reference. I picked up one of the Fender bass guitars, and plugged it into an amplifier. I kept the sound down low, not wanting to attract a crowd again. I began playing, really pushing myself to play faster and smoother.

"Well! Looks like we have a musical genious on ourhands!"

I whirled around, getting tangled in the chord and almost falling.

"Oh, sorry Katt!" Serj laughed and helped me untangle myself from the chord. "You are really, really good! People were talking about you playing guitar, too!"

"I was just playing Dust in the Wind." I muttered. "It isn't that difficult." Serj picked up one of the bass guitars. "That's not it, though. You had your eyes closed, you played it flawlessly... those kinds of things make people want to stop, listen, videotape..." He played a bit of the bass part from their song, "Prison Song".

""Not many people can do what you can." Daron had walked in with one of the electric guitars. The other two followed him in.

"So how about that story?" John asked. "I'm really curious."  He had some drum sticks that he restlessly tapped on the wall, his knees, and even Daron's head.