The hallway felt almost abandoned, creepy. She heard the noise of the main hallways, but was intrigued because not many were in this part of the school. She looked at the numbers on the lockers. They where getting close to the number on the paper with her classes on it.
"Aha!" she yelled as she found it. She opened the locker and put her math book in it. She was not carrying it around. Heck, even opening it would be unlikely. She'd mastered this class three years ago, thanks to her math teacher mother. She sighed. "This is going to be a long school year."
She slammed shut the locker door, and in the silence, she caught music drifting in the air. Violin music. Amelia picked up her bag and stood there absorbing the sound. It sounded like something her mother would play in the car, intricate and delicate. She hitched the bag on her shoulder and walked around the hall, hoping to find the source of music. It was melodic, but slightly
creepy sounding, like some music you would hear in the background of a horror movie. The music got louder as she headed further down the hall. She reached a green door with chipped paint, and put her ear against it to hear if it was the room where the music played. It was.
The door creaked as she opened it. The person standing in the room paid no attention to her and kept playing, back facing her. Amelia looked around the room. It was a music room. Stands were toppled over and chairs were arranged in a lopsided shape of an arch, like students had left in a hurry. Amelia was never in band, but she had a few friends at her old school who always complained about the conductor letting them out late and they had to rush to class. Maybe that happened everywhere.
Amelia walked around the room, trying not to distract the boy playing. He was good. Really good. She wanted to see who he was. She came around in front of him, and stood silent while he played. His eyes where closed. He had the typical short haircut for boys but his hair was the same color as hers, brown. His head tilted into the chin pad of the violin. The only person Amelia had ever really watched play music was her mother when she played the piano. He mom would just let the music flow out of her, she said. She would feel it. Amelia watched as the boy standing in front of her did the same thing.
He stopped, finishing the piece. Amelia thought it looked like he was letting the last note rest inside him. Her mom would say that when she finished a song. It was giving respect to the song. Then he looked at her. He looked confused, like maybe he hadn't noticed she came into the room. Amelia spoke first.
"That was really good. But do you know anything with a little more kick?"
He smiled, a slow grin that made her arms goosebump, and brought the violin back up to his chin, the bow resting on the strings. The silence was killing Amelia. What was he going to do?
With a jerk that made Amelia start, he launched into the melody line to "The Devil went down to Georgia,” a song she always figured needed a fiddle, not a fancy violin. Amelia grinned. Violin, fiddle... whatever it was, this guy could play. He wasn't super tall, but could easily reach things up high if need be. He had brown hair and bright green eyes. He was kinda cute, and definitely knew how to play. By the time he hit the final pulls of the song, his hair fell across his forehead from rocking his head back and forth with each draw of the bow and Amelia found herself bouncing on her toes from the fast beat. With a flourish, he drew out the last note and dropped both his bow and violin to his sides.
"Enough kick for you?" he asked, his breathing short, a wide grin on his face.
Amelia nodded. She walked to him.
"You are very good." She stuck out her hand. "I'm Amelia. MacDonald."
He chuckled and switched his bow into the same hand holding the violin, wrapping his fingers around both the bow and the instrument neck. He shook her hand.
"Drake Casey, and thank you. Being good is my goal. I have to put this away before the bell rings for class," he said, holding up the violin and bow. She nodded, taking back her hand. "Are you the new girl everyone is talking about?" he asked over his shoulder as he crouched over the case.
Amelia laughed a little bit, but felt warmth rush to her face.
"Yeah, that's me. I don't know why everyone's talking about me. I haven't done anything yet."
"Yet?" he asked, closing the case.
"Yep, 'yet'. I like to make an impression," she said, shrugging her shoulders.