"A little more to the right, please, Charles!"
Headmaster Wood lifted his cane as he barked out the command. He waved his cane in the direction he wanted the teenager to go. The blonde choir member shuffled to the right. "It's Charlie," he muttered under his breath.
Don't assume that Charlie disliked being in the choir. No, he liked singing. He didn't like that their director was sick, which meant that Headmaster Wood had to step in. Wood was a strict, unforgiving man who gave orders and was not talked back to. The choir was to be performing with a Scottish boys choir, which was probably why it was taking so long to arrange the students. That, and the fact that Charlie's Headmaster, in the teen's opinion, had no idea what he was doing.
He kept moving, unaware until he rammed into someone. He looked to his right to see a taller boy standing next to him that he didn't recognize. "Sorry, mate," he whispered.
"It's all right, brotha," the brunette replied, his Scottish accent heavy even as he spoke quietly. Charlie took note of this as his headmaster, along with the Scottish director, argued about where one of the older boys from Charlie's school should stand.
"Hume!" The Scottish headmaster yelled. Charlie watched as the boy next to him looked up.
"Yes, sir?" he answered.
"Two steps up, if you would," the director ordered.
The boy nodded, replied, "Yes, Headmaster Kerr," and did as he was told.
Headmasters Kerr and Wood conversed for a moment. "Alright then," Kerr said. "Desmond, one more step up, please."
The boy who had previously been addressed as 'Hume' took a step up.
"And Mr. Pace," Wood called. "Go up there with him."
Charlie turned around, walked up to stand in the correct place, and spun to face in the right direction once more.
"So…is it Charles Pace, brotha?" Desmond asked.
"Actually, it's Charlie," Charlie grumbled. "And you're Desmond Hume?"
"Yes."
They stood in silence as the adults called off names and rearranged the choir.
"I hope you guys are as good as people say you are," Charlie commented.
Desmond chuckled. "Thanks. I like to think that we aren't too bad."
Charlie smiled as Headmaster Wood yelled, "Alright! Remember your places for tomorrow! Be here at noon sharp!"
The boys dispersed. Desmond was about to walk out the door when Charlie caught up with him. "Hey, wanna grab something to eat? I'm pretty sure you won't know your way around, seeing as you're from Scotland. And I know the best places to eat, too."
Desmond raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"
Charlie nodded. "You bet, mate. Taylor and Browns? Best bloody fish and chips in Manchester."
Desmond laughed. "I'll be the judge of that, brotha."