Synectica

Chapter 9

        "Timothy! Turn around and shut up!" growled the orchestra conductor. A very tall, attractive junior snickered, turned back around in his chair and readjusted his saxophone. Mike nudged Netta's arm and motioned in the direction of the saxophone section.

        "That's another tally," he said with a light smirk. Netta smiled and pulled an index card out of her music folder. It had tallies scribbled all across one of the sides with only one line at the end free from writing.

        "You'd think that he'd learn after 178 times," said Netta quietly. She turned and smirked back at Mike.

        "Hey, more amusement for us," he said almost laughing. They were both careful to keep their voices low, even though there was no way that that conductor could possibly hear them. They readjusted their horns, still chuckling and prepared to finish playing the piece that they had been practicing before the class was interrupted by the saxophones. The bell finally rang and the conductor made an irritated grunting noise and dismissed the class.

        Netta put her horn away and grabbed her bag. Her world civ textbook was too big to fit into her backpack and so she held it propped against the side of her waist along with her music from orchestra. She preferred to keep it in her locker, but there wasn't quite enough time to get back to it since they we're let out a bit late from orchestra and someone kept standing in front of her cubby. She picked up her pace a bit so that she could make it to her lit class on time. She weaved her way through the halls and finally got to the ramp just before her class. Suddenly, something tripped her and she lost her balance and dropped her book. The force of the fall made her sheet music go flying. "Great. Just great," she thought. Right as she was about to get down pick up her scattered music, a herd of soccer players came romping down the hallway. One of  them paused, sneered at her, and then kicked her music around on the floor while another punted her book down the hallway. They laughed as she frantically tried to gather her music from the floor while other people were still walking. Most were nice enough to avoid stepping on them. Greg emerged from the back herd and, seeing someone on the ground, struggling to pick up her things, asked the leader of the pack what happened. Netta couldn't hear them talking and didn't particularly care what they said. Greg still didn't know it was her on the ground and so maybe she could slip away without him overreacting. He was often very overprotective of her. She didn't want any trouble.

        Netta grabbed her music as fast as possible and clutched them close to her chest, trying to both hide her face and check to see that none of them were severely torn. Too late; Greg saw her. He started yelling at the other jock with emphatic hand motions. She vaguely saw some of the others move on from the scene, obviously bored now that the excitement was over. Greg was still yelling at one of the juniors who had kicked her things. Netta still needed to get her book, but it was all the way at the end of the hallway and the bell was about to ring. She didn't need it for the next class, but odds were it wouldn't still be there when class was over. Darn those stupid idiots. She saw one of the soccer guys jogging back to the scene of the assault. He was holding her textbook. "Ok, so maybe not all of them suck," she thought. As he got closer, she realized that she recognized him - Andrew. Shoot. She tried to run down the hallway so that he wouldn't see her. She didn't care about the book anymore. If she saw him she was sure that he'd know who she was. Unfortunately, she wasn't very tall or fast and she was trying to outrun someone who was at least four inches taller than her and much much faster. Greg and the other juniors had left by now and the bell was about to ring. Andrew started to sprint. Within seconds he caught up with her.

        "Hey. You forgot your book," he said slightly breathless. He flicked his brown hair out of his face with a jolt of his head and handed her book to her. Now that his friends weren't here, he seemed decent enough, though he had only tried to help her once he was sure none of his friends would see.