You're Probably Fine There

i. i bet your friends are thrilled

Stella skated up to the main strip of sidewalk in front of her school, her mother had commended her when she had started skating again, a sign that the Shit Year From Hell™ might actually stand a chance of ending. More importantly, she wasn't riding it to just ride into traffic, which was another good sign all things considered. She popped off and grabbed her board as she hummed along to The Smiths, and not Girlfriend in a Coma. She slightly adjusted her beanie as she slid into the building, not really looking at anyone. Not because she was antisocial (okay, she was a little antisocial, but no one should blame her for that), just because she was on a mission: get to her locker, grab her books, sneak in a half hour of riffing before class inevitably tried to steal her soul from her lower intestine by way of her kneecaps. Brutal, sure, but her honest feelings on the whole ordeal. Or maybe it was leftover thinking. She wasn't certain, but Stella let the mental sentiment stand as she pushed to her locker.

She reached her locker and was quick to unlock it with little effort and shoved her board and fished out the spare things from her bag that she didn't need to drag to class all day before refilling her backpack with the necessary materials and shutting it, walking in the direction of the music room. She appreciated the space, especially all the windows. There was something positive about the space, even if she couldn't put her finger on it. She grabbed her guitar from the corner of the room, a murky teal blue that she was fond of if her hair was any indication. She warmed up as she always did, riffing on Come as You Are by Nirvana before fishing her own notebook to play the riffs that ate her brainspace up when she was at home. Or come back to the one that wouldn't leave her alone no matter how many times she played it and tried to give it lyrics and a name. Most of her riffs had names, even if they didn't have lyrics, but this one refused like a stubborn child. She riffed and hummed and played around with a couple licks. It wasn't as much fun as she wanted it to be, but she tried to keep at it until it was something she could work with.

"You're here early," Patrick said as he wandered in. Stella sighed slightly at his appearance and shoved her notebook into her bag, not working on anything of her own anymore at the risk of having the both of them try to ask for it, something she didn't want to if she didn't have to, she liked to think she'd given them too much. 

"Skipped breakfast," she said with a shrug. "Now, I wanna play for a little bit before your girlfriend shows up." She added. Stella wasn't a fan of Kimberly, but she tolerated her for the sake of getting to play music. She was talented, just not playing the music Stella desired to be playing. She started playing something she was working on and Patrick tried to jump in and it just didn't work. Something didn't gel, she tried to match his riff and from there they had something mildly successful. Something more Van Halen than the Cure, but she could work with that, at least that's what she kept telling herself.

"Well aren't you two a pair of busy bees," Kimberly said as she came in. Stella let it taper out as she kept playing a chord just to give her hands something to do.

"Yeah well, had to do something." Stella muttered as she started playing again. That stupid riff again was still agitating her, crawling under her skin and insisting it stay there.

"Can we have that?" Kimberly asked as Stella kept working through it. She shook her head.

"No, it uh... it's mine." She said. Even if it didn't have lyrics, or a name, or anything other than what made it, Stella didn't want to give it up. Not for anything.

"Let's work on "Butterflies"," Patrick cut in before Kimberly started pitching a fit about not getting everything. Stella nodded and started playing that with ease, mostly because it was simple and she could zone out when she did. She listened to the halls as she did, listened to the ranting and laughter and shouts as she worked through the guitarwork that didn't challenge her and just gave her something to do. It was then that she was saved by the bell, struck from her reverie by the metallic clanging. Stella placed her guitar in its case and put it back in it's corner as she swept up her backpack and power walked out of the room. Did she feel bad? Yeah kinda, Patrick and Kimberly had at one point been her friends. But it quickly became a dynamic where Stella was learning why certain people didn't work with their friends. It didn't help when they started dating, in fact it somehow made it worse. She was still power walking, trying to get to the near other side of the building before she got slapped with a tardy, something her mother wouldn't let her live down. But the slip would help the latest collage. She clipped someone headed in the opposite direction and looked up briefly.