Falling Slowly

ii. him

saturday, november sixteenth, twenty-fourteen

• • •

the car rides to the school of rock
were always relatively silent.
both he and his father preferred it that way,
letting the music playing
on the rusty old stereo
do all the talking.

• • •

they passed by the town's center circle
and circled once
twice
before veering a sharp right
and turning into the alleyway
that served as an underground haven

for the school of rock
a family owned ice creamery
and a crayon factory.

• • •

he stepped out of the car
with an acoustic guitar in one hand
an electric in the other
and a mandolin underneath his arm.
upon entering
the clock read
one thirteen.
he was late.
he was always late.

• • •

up the rickety stairs he went
two at a time.
his steps were thunderous
but were always drowned out
by the heavy bass of the amps
above him.

• • •

the second group was already
halfway through their song,
by the time he made
his grand appearance.
he set his instruments down,
hardly giving anyone a glance,
and unhurriedly unpacked them
studiously and carefully.

• • •

when he looked up,
he discovered that
- like always -
no one decided to take comfort
upon the couch in the front
so bare and elderly
worn out and tired.

except for her.

• • •

there was a new girl.

there were never any new students.
always were a few that trickled in
every now and then,
but soon they too became
regulars
musicians
and no longer the outsider.
but she -
she was different.

• • •

unlike the white that shown
under blonde hair
and blue eyes,
the freckles that dot their cheeks
or the height of their bodies,
she had ebony hair
that trickled down the length
to her chest
until it faded into a rich auburn
at the tips.

her skin wasn't fair
it was olive.
her eyes weren't almonds,
they were crescents
the color of ink.
she had that innocent look
but with that innocence
came a knowledge unattainable.

• • •

who was she?

• • •

he was both confused
but annoyed,
as she had taken
the right side
of his beloved sofa.

• • •

he took a seat on the left
leaving a gap in the middle
between them.
he could sense her awkwardness;
her nervousness.
but he didn't bother to spare her a glance.
he didn't talk much anyway.
not to new people.
not to the people in the program
he had known for years.

• • •

who was she?

• • •

about halfway through
the four hours in which
they had to rehearse,
he got up.
he felt her give him a look,
but it went as quickly
as it came.

• • •

he made his way down the stairs
through the doors
and into the cold, autumn air.
where he reached into his pocket
and pulled out a pack
of cigarettes,
nearly empty,
but enough to last the week.
he lit one and took a drag,
listening to the music playing in his head.

• • •

upon returning,
he found that the girl had gone.
she was up at the front,
where the makeshift stage was set.
she held her electric guitar in one hand,
as she talked to the instructor - derek.
derek turned to the rest of them.

"does anyone have an acoustic she can borrow?"

he didn't know why he said it,
but the words flew from his mouth.

"she can use mine."

• • •

he opened his case
and took out his Taylor,
handing it to her.
she took gently,
unable to meet his eyes.
he nodded,
and sat back down
on the left side of the couch.

• • •

the group began playing their song.
she was the first to come in;
the sound of his acoustic ringing
through the speakers
and through the room.
she was smiling;
her hands fluidly strumming
as if second nature.

• • •

"if you believed they put a man on the moon
man on the moon
if you believe there's nothing up his sleeve
then nothing is cool."

• • •

who was she?

if only he knew.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

What if I updated this daily, wow. That would be a first. Anyway, yeah, this story will be told from two point of views. The girl and the boy. And, this chapter is dedicated to my good friend Posy, who's going through a tough time right now, and I just want her to know I'm here for her, and that everything will be okay.

As always, comment, vote, promote! (Seriously, your comments mean the world to me)

-Isabelle