I have always been quite displeased with school. I absolutely adore the concept of learning new things, but the stress to achieve good grades and be smart took the joy out of it. I walk down the hallway filled with screaming kids, which are constantly bumping into me and pushing me every which way. The wave of sixth graders begins to subside as I come towards my the double doors I am so used to. I walk through what's left of the wave, and reach my destination. The smell of used instruments and valve oil floods my nose as I walk into the band room. I stop and inhale all the lovely smells of the room. The smell of beauty is what I call it. The band room is the only thing I adore about my school. The way the conductors get enveloped into the music, how they flow as water with every single beat. The emotion in their faces as their wand flares every which way. I find beauty in it. I slowly make my way to my instrument locker, taking in all the wonders of this classroom. I bump into someone I did not recognize because I am too focused on cherishing every little aspect of this room. He must be news, because I know everyone in band. He stumbled back when I ran into him, and I almost fell backwards.
"I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention." I quickly squeak out, afraid he will become angry. All he did was stare at me. I was in total confusion. I began to fear I had given him a concussion. "Are you okay?" I ask, with an obvious hint of concern in my voice.
"What are you doing?" He asks me, staring down at me. His brown curls are flowing every which way on his face, and his green eyes show a hint of confusion.
"What do you mean? I'm not doing anything." I say as I look down at the ground, afraid to look into those green orbs in fear that they will suck me in. His brow furrowed in confusion, and he ran his hand through his curls.
"You look so content. Why?" He said, with curiousness in his voice. I look back up to him, and I realize he's talking about the way I walked into the band room.
"I just really love band. That's all." I say, quite quietly. He smiled and began to look around.
"It's my first day, and I already love this class. My life revolves around music. So I naturally love this class. This smell brings chills to my spine. The smell of the wood of the reeds and the tart smell of the brass. It's quite lovely." He smiled this warm, inviting smile. I couldn't quite figure out why he was still talking to me. "I'm Brian by the way. I play the trombone."
"I'm Annabeth. I play the trumpet."
"Interesting. I guess I'll see you in the brass room, Annabeth." And with that, he was gone. I had this feeling in the pit of my stomach that I would see him again. I smiled, knowing that I had just made a friend. I got on my tiptoes and reached up to reach my locker, and slowly pulled out the black case. I put the strap around my shoulder and carry it to the brass room, where the beauty begins.
