Guys and Dolls

Locked {chap. 5, Anita}

Anita in this chapter was inspired by Park Sparrow in I’ll Protect You, so go read it. It’s by orangechicken and is amazeballs.

Anita’s POV

I eyed the clock anxiously. Six minutes, still.

Six minutes wouldn’t have seemed like a lot if I was in, perhaps, Physics. But here I was, in AP Euro, gouging my ears out as I listened to Mr. Louis drone on about some other Louis.

I checked the clock again. Still six minutes. Damn.

A slight movement caught my eye. My head whipped back to the clock. The glaring red numbers now told me that I had to wait only five minutes till I could leave this forsaken class.

“Ms. Shah,” Mr. Louis called. “Is there something wrong with my clock?”

“Hmm?” I looked up.

“Yeah, you seem to be scrutinizing it. Problem?” He gargled.

“No, sir,” I sighed. I just wanted to leave. “I was just checking the time.”

Four minutes.

I turned my head slightly, finding other students in chorus focused intently on the clock as well.

I sighed. This was going far too slow.

The PA system crackled on. “Will all the students in our choral department please proceed to the music hall. Teachers, you should have received a list of all the students who will be going in your inbox this morning. Thank you.”

I jumped up and slung my messenger bag around my shoulder, shoving my textbook into it. Several other students stood up as well, at least three of whom were definitely not in chorus, making their way towards the door.

+

On my way out, I checked the clock. Two minutes early. 

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The fat pale man made me think of an egg. The way he waddled around the building, dressed in an Elvis-Presley-reminiscent white suit and balding, it was all I could do not to try cracking him and putting him in a cake.

 “And this,” he gestured to a brightly lit hallway behind him. “is the Hallidan Records wall of fame. Take a look!” His nasal tone evaporated in the air as my tour group bustled into the white space.

Posters of bands lined the walls, some of which I knew, some of which were obvious flops.

Just as I was gazing at a poster of Sleeping With Sirens, Humpty Dumpty opened his mouth again. “There’s a sound booth at the end of the hall, if you’d like a look.”

“Come into the cafeteria when you’re ready to have lunch!” Our chaperone, Ms. Danis, said. “The next three hours are for you to explore the museum and the studio. No leaving the building and you may not go on any tours offered by the museum.”

I thought about the museum- Hallidan Records was bridged off of Hallidan Music Museum. It was relatively small compared to the normal museums that Chicago was famous for (the Field Museum, the Museum of Science and Industry), but being in suburban Chicagoland, it was considerably big. I didn’t mind spending three hours listening to people talk about acoustics, cords, vocalizing, and all that lovely stuff, though I’d much prefer we were in the Museum of Science and Industry. That place was like my home.

Charlotte tugged on my arm, pulling me out of my thoughts. “C’mon, let’s check out the thing.”

I followed her to end of the hall. Not a lot of people were in the booth; most of them were probably hungry already, even though it was only twelve o’clock and our normal lunch period was at one o’clock.