The Shattered Memory of a Violinist

//Seven - School. Yay//

//Seven — School. Yay//

Willa Van der Mariel

I hate school.

I hated it even more when I got out the car, followed by Mara and Mason, the kids who use to rule this school with a high fist. So, of course. No one forgets these things, and we weren’t even half way to the building when people came running up to them, hugging and laughing with them. On even offered Mason a smoke, which he took with a wink. 

I didn’t hang around. 

Hell to the No.

I quickly went into the building, ignoring all the chatter that reached my ears

“ — the Singers? Bullshit. They left last year —,”

“— well, apparently their back —,”

I made it too my locker without tripping over, luckily, not that anyone would of noticed. I had never really had anything against the Singers, that was until they totally forgot who I was. In fact, once upon I had been close with them. I use to come over sometimes for practices with Melia, when we couldn’t drive to the studio to practice. We would practice in the lounge room, and I would enjoy it. Sometimes, only a few short times, we would bump into the twins. Of course, they never said ‘hi’. I was just another of their sister’s students, but their parent’s had the decency to say hello to me. But, of course, in tenth grade I developed a small crush on Mason.

It wasn’t that small.

So, whenever I came over, I would try to say hello. But, of course he would only nod in agreement and totally ignore me. We never went to the same school, until the end of year ten when Averie started home schooling because her dance timetable was getting out of hand, and she was convinced that was what she wanted to do when she grew up. So, I attended Richmond High alone for half a year, and in that half a year, my crush on the Bad Boy grew. Then, when Averie’s bad by boyfriend bet her to death — I was so off boys I would’ve rather eaten year old cheese than talk to one. So, my crush disappeared. 

And it was going to stay that way.

Bullshit, Willa.

Shut up, it has. 

Then, ten months ago we moved back to Richmond from Boston, where we lived for the Summer because off my recitals and now they are living next door to me. Just my luck.

I practically threw all my books into my locker, and when I slammed it shut, someone is waiting for me on the other side. I jump in surprise, but she doesn’t chuckle.

“The Singers are back? And they came to school with you?”

“Good morning to you too, Lottie” I greet, pursing my lips.

Lottie Lavender is a small girl, with a personality that doesn’t like to be outspoken. Her hair at the moment is a unnatural electric blue, and pulled back in a messy bun. She is wearing a green t-shirt that says something in Chinese, that I can’t read or understand, with a puffy skirt and flip-flops. Honestly, sometimes I don’t know about this girl.

“Singers?” She repeats.

I nod, slowly. “Yeah, they’re my neighbours and my Pa insisted they come to school with me”

“And you couldn’t of just said no?”

“You know my Pa”

She nodded. “I do. Okay, never mind. But, why didn’t you call or text me to tell me the news”