2nd Movement

Chapter 1

SLAM!
I slammed my locker shut, heaved the load of books into my cradling arms and made my way to my next class, Japanese．

"みなさん、宿題 を ていしつしてください。" (Everyone, please submit your homework.) Kusuhara Sensei called.
I fished my homework out of my red and white Japanese folder and walked up front to pass my homework to Kusahara Sensei.
"はい〜。みなさん、本の中のページ78に開いてください。" (Okay, everyone please flip to page 78 in your book.")
I flipped open my book- exactly to page 78.
I did a little happy dance inside of me, listened to Kusuhara Sensei for a couple minutes, and dozed off.

☻☻☻☻☻☻☻☻☻☻

Hi. My names Katie. My friends call me Kate. I'm a freshman in high school and I'm addicted to the violin. Typical nerd. An orch dork. Duh. That's about it about me. Oh, and I'm Asian. Half Chinese, half Japanese. Random fact to throw in there.
Back to the story then, shall we?

☻☻☻☻☻☻☻☻☻☻

"Katie - San!" Kusuhara Sensei exclaimed. "この問題の答えは何でしょうか？" (What's the answer to this question?)
"Hmph?"
The whole class was staring at me now.
"Katie!"
"What? I mean, uh, wait, um, which question?"
"The one on page 84! じぎようちゅうで聞いてる?" (Are you listening in class?)
"すみません!" (Sorry!)
I hastily flipped to 84 and scanned the page for the question. I was already pretty decent at Japanese, so I could miss a whole quarter of it and wouldn't have trouble catching up. Which is why I dozed off today.
Translate into Japanese: Hi, my name is Akiko. Do you know where King Street is?
Psh. Easy.
"こんにちわ、私の名前はアキコです。キングとうりはどこですか？"
"That is... fairly correct." Kusuhara Sensei said in disbelief.
I smiled innocently and went back to reading the book.

☻☻☻☻☻☻☻☻☻☻

The bell rang and I ran out the class, down the stairs, and through the doors of the building. I weaved my way through the horde of people chatting among themselves, past the statue of our school founder, and burst into the music building and into the orchestra room.
Close shave, I was almost late.
I dumped my bag on the ground and opened my orchestra locker and pulled out my treasure, my baby, my-

violin.
I gently opened the case and pulled out my full size maple and spruce wood violin, wrapped in two layers of an old silk cloth.
"Hey!" I heard a soft voice call out.
"Oh, hey." It was Amy, the other violinist in my quartet.

(Those who don't know what a quartet is, it's usually 2 violins, a viola and a cello that play songs together like a mini orchestra. Remember this, it'll be useful in this story.)

"Where's Alex? And Brandon?"
"I don't know... stupid, lazy-"
I saw Alex creep behind her with an evil smirk on his face.
"They never get on ti-"
"Boo!" He shouted, while slapping down on her shoulders.
"AHH-" Amy whipped around and put her hands on her hips.
"Alex."
"Amy."
"Who were you calling lazy?"
"You."
"Oooh, tóuche."
"Whatever."
"Where's Brandon?"
"Here." Brandon said, walking through the door, dumping his bag on a nearby chair.
"Okay, everyone's here- hurry up- grab your stuff- meet you guys in Practice Room 11 in 5."

---------------

"Okay, we're doing the Debussy now, let's start from the beggining? Or 8A?" Brandon questioned.
"We can start from the top." I said.
We practiced over and over again nothing really sounding right, intonation was horrible, and we couldn't find a tempo that suited all of us.
"This isn't working," Amy said, slamming her pencil down on the stand after writing in some notes.
"Split up?" I asked.
"Sure."
We all split up and went to different rooms and planned to meet back in 15 minutes. Brandon opened the door lazily, but before he could walk out, there stood an old man with white hair and a small goatee who was clapping.
"Bravo! Ta Bien!"
"...who is he..?" Amy whispered from behind me.
"I don't know."
"Who vaz playin' 2nd violin?" He questioned in a thick french accent.
"Katie."
"Zats not going to help me, dungbrains. I don't know who eez who."
"I'm Katie," I whispered quietly.
"You!" He jabbed a stubby, fat finger. "Come."
"Without addressing the rest of my quartet and dragged me out the room and out the building.