White Lies and Music Notes

Chapter Twenty-nine

"Tonight." My voice almost whispered the last word. The door was heard opening and you could hear the faint hum of my guitar strings fading to an end. A quiet click was heard before Hannah started giggling. I racked my brains, trying to remember when this was, how I had been recorded, without my knowing it. Had someone been in the room with me while I practiced? Who would've done that?

"So what's your plan, Chris?" Hannah asked.

"Come with." He stated and I could hear footsteps coming closer. I looked around, but there was nowhere I could hide. Just a long corridor with locked or private rooms. Running would make no sense, they would see me. So what could I do?

I scurried to a door, and tested the handle - locked. I took three steps forward and tried the next door - locked.

I more tithe other side of the corridor, and put my hand on the door, but quickly stopping myself going it when I heard voices. Okaaaayy. I'm not going in there.

I looked around the corridor, not really sure of what I was looking for. I scanned the doors - Private Keep Locked, Private Keep Locked, Private Keep Locked, Private Keep Locked, Private Keep Locked, Caution Biohazard, Private Keep Locked. Wait.

Biohazard - surely that would be locked....

Right?

I had literally less that five seconds to hide from Hannah and Chris. My mind was going at 10000000 miles per hour, adrenaline rushing through my veins.

I had two choices:

Option A: stay out here and be caught by a murderous Hannah and Chris, who would surely beat the crap out of me. Or kill me. Which ever comes first.

Option B: Go into the Biohazard room and hope not to be killed by who-knows what drug-resistant germs they were growing in there.

I had to try.

Click. Hm, I never knew they didn't lock biohazard doors...

__________________________________________________

"Hey, babe, it's Leah, right?" I froze, my feet glued to the ground. I had been at this school for just over a month. I thought the 'it's-Leah-right?' stage was over - apparently not. I turned around before starting my rant.

"Babe?" I glared at the boy in front of me. He was at least a foot shorter than me, and looked about 11. He raised an eyebrow at me - probable thinking he looked cool. He didn't. "How dare you call me 'babe'." I stated. "No-one." I stepped forward. "No-one, calls me babe."

I'm sorry, I have a problem with people calling me babe.

"Whatever." He dismissed, his expression oviously trying to look bored. He leaned against the wall and scanned his eyes up and then down my body. By now, a couple people had come to join him, all of which looked about ten. "Anyway," he continued. "I hear you're single."

Um...what? Did I honestly just hear that?

"Excuse me?" I asked. "How old are you? 11?"

"12, but, whatever." This guy really thought he was so cool. To some point, I felt sorry for him.

"I don't even know your name, and you asked me if I was single?"

"No, I did not ASK you. I told you."

I rolled my eyes. "And, of course, that makes you right. Look, I don't know what you little friends told you, but wether I am single or taken is none of your - or anyone elses - buisiness. So will you get to the point?"

"Yeah," he pushed himself off the wall. "I wanna ask you to the dance."

My jaw hit the floor. "Um, what?"