Author's note: Okay, once again, I'm doing an April fic (surprise, surprise!), but this isn't going to be a one-shot, but an actual fic with more than one chapter. Enjoy. Please read and review? And props to anyone who can guess what show the name of this chapter is from!
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything belongs to Jonathan Larson.
The blonde musician stared at her from across the gym. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen: about 5'5, thin, and had a punk look to her: ripped denim skirt, black fishnet top, and converse high-tops. Her hair was naturally blonde, but she streaked it with black and purple, that went really well with her forest green eyes. He had been watching her since the beginning of senior year—she was a new student at Scarsdale High, and he wanted to be the one to get her before anyone else could.
"Go talk to her, Roger! All you do is stare at her with this weird look on your face."
"Look who's talking, Mark. Why don't you do the same to Noreen."
"It's Maureen," he muttered.
"I know. I just did that to tick you off." Roger grabbed his bag and walked over to where she was, sitting alone near the door. "Hey."
"Hi," she mumbled.
"I'm Roger Davis. Where are you from?"
"April Yeats. From California."
Roger's jaw dropped. "You're from Cali? Where?"
"L.A." she responded tonelessly.
"L.A.? Damn, you're lucky!"
"Yeah, I guess." Awkward silence followed.
"Uh, I like your clothing style. We don't have anyone here that dresses like that."
She beamed, revealing a dazzling smile of perfectly straight, white teeth. "Thanks! I thought no one here would."
He laughed. "I know what you mean. Everyone hates that I only wear black band t-shirts. It's not like I'm part of a cult or something, so what do they care, you know?"
"Yeah! Exactly! Hey, I love your shirt," she commented, gesturing toward his Rolling Stones shirt. "I love the Stones."
"I'm glad someone else does! You're the first one I've met here that likes good music."
"I'm a drummer for a rock band… well, I was before we moved here. I've noticed you carrying around your guitar a lot. You in a band?"
He stared at her with wide eyes. "I've been looking for a drummer! We should jam together sometime."
"Yeah, we should."
"Want to hang out tonight? Jam maybe? Or I could show you around a little. There's a great music shop not too far from here, where the owner lets me hang out at after the shop closes."
"I'd love to, Roger! You're like, the second person who's actually talked to me since I got here."
He looked at her closely. "And who was the first?" He hoped it wasn't another guy.
"You know Maureen Johnson?"
He cringed. "My best friend has a killer crush on her."
She giggled, which was a beautiful sound. "No surprise. Maureen seems like a really nice person. She invited me to the mall and shopping, but I had to decline. That's totally not my thing."
The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. "Hey April?" he asked, as they walked out together.
"What's up?"
"You're really cool. I'm glad I finally decided to talk to you." Shit, Roger! That was lame!
"Thanks. Right back at you. I'm glad you did, too." She winked at him before getting lost in the swarm of teenagers.
She likes me! he thought happily as he walked to class.
April was waiting for Roger in the front of the school. "Hey front man."
"How did you know I fronted?"
She smiled. "I have my ways."
"Tell me!" God, I sound like a 12-year-old! This girl is making me go crazy.
"Well, I asked Maureen about you. She said all she knew was that you came here half way through junior year, fronted some big hot shot band called Waltz, but your bassist and drummer both OD'ed, and you've been looking for a new band since. Oh yeah, and that kid with the camera follows you around everywhere."
He laughed. "Yep! That's about it!"
"So you're almost as new as I am."
Roger shrugged. "I guess. Except that everyone knows me and I know how things work."
"But you don't know everyone."
"True. So um, what are you doing tonight?"
"Nothing. Being bored, I guess."
"Great! I mean, well, you still want to hang?"
She wanted to kiss him right there. He was so gorgeous when he was embarrassed. "Of course! You have a kit at your place?"
"Yeah, but it blows… big time. It's just a snare, bass, high hat, and 2 toms."
"Alright. Want to come over then? I've got a pretty wicked setup."
"Fuck yeah! That works!"
"Okay! Give me your hand." He cautiously held out his hand, not sure what she wanted to do with it. She pulled out a pen and scribbled her number and address on it. "See you later, Rog." She walked away, stopping every few feet to run around and watch him.
Mark ran up to his best friend, completely out of breath. "Are the rumors true, Roger? Are you really going out with the new girl?"
He scowled at his friend. "Fucking rumors." But then he grinned. "But sort of true. I'm going over to her place later." Then, he added, "She's quite good friends with Irene."
"It's Maureen, Rog! That's getting really old."
"Fine. Sor-ry! But uh, she's pretty tight with Maureen."
"Is she really?" he asked enthusiastically.
"Yeah. And Maureen knows who you are!" At the hopeful look on Mark's face, he added, "You're the kid with the camera who always follows me around!"
Mark turned bright red and stared at his camera. "Well, at least she knows who I am," he mumbled.
Roger smirked. "If you don't talk to her, I will." He started walking in Maureen's direction, where she was in the midst of her fellow cheerleaders.
"No! Roger! Don't!" Mark pleaded. Too late.
"Maureen?" Roger casually asked her.
"Yeah?" the perky brunette asked.
"See the guy with the camera over there?" He motioned toward Mark. "You see, that's Mark Cohen, my best friend. And he has this huge crush on you but you intimidate him." Roger swung around and called over his shoulder, "Just thought you should know!"
The cheerleaders burst into giggles as Roger approached the blushing "guy with the camera". "I can't believe you just did that!" Mark whined.
"You'll thank me later Anyway, I've got to go meet April later."
"Who?"
"New girl. Remember, I'm going to her house. Yeah, so, uh, I'll see you tomorrow." He picked up his guitar case and leather jacket and began walking toward the direction of April's house.
There you go! Please review? Okay, soon to come, April and Roger's jam session!