Music from the Heart
Chapter 1
Hands running down the ivory, music began to flow throughout the room and fill the room with a light feeling. The room grows quiet as the last note of the incomplete composition dies out. Quietly, I brushed a loose hair behind my ear and took a stubby pencil out from behind my ear and started scribbling notes down.
This process continued until my fingers were starting to hurt and it began to grow late. My fists came down hard on the keys. I then proceeded to shuffle together my papers and place them delicately into my writing folder and I stuffed into the top shelf of my bedroom closet. Paper littered my room and I needed to clean up before Mom got home or she would yell at me some more about how lazy and disrespectful I was being, whether or not that was actually true.
Trashing all the crinkled paper, I laid down in bed and thought of the new year of school and how things haven't changed that much. My best friend, of course, was still loud and full of energy and she still talked about sports all the time whether she thought you were listening or not. Alice always had her way of putting a smile on your face even if you didn't want see another face for the rest of the day. She would talk sports and I would talk music but for some reason it seemed to work out into consistent conversations in the end. We rarely shut up unless the teacher forced our mouths shut by threatening both our grades.
Alice and I were the dynamic duo when it came time for our music. She sang just like me but the only difference was that I played the piano and the acoustic guitar. Looking up at the chipped paint on my ceiling my mind began to drift.
This year would be different for Alice and me. I promised to do things outside my comfort zone to at least make it into the year book. Everyone was in the yearbook but the few that made it into the scrapbook would be remembered; giving an elevation in the popularity chain.
School was like the food chain. Geeks. Band. Musicians. Athletes. The top of the food chain was ruled over by Lauren Mallory, the biggest you-know-what of them all. She had her group that laughed too loud and played too much. Smarting off to "the Group" was not in one's vocabulary. They found ways to smack someone around whether you did something to them or not.
Alice and I weren't in a group. We didn't need to be. We didn't want to be. That is an understatement though. I wished with all my heart to belong but it didn't matter because students didn't want me or Alice for some reason. There wasn't anything wrong with us but the food chain had spoken and we were condemned to a life of scraping gum out of my notebooks and having no table to sit at come lunchtime. We were the outcasts.
The outcast title was never really given but at the same time someone would figure it out sooner or later. It was the unspoken law of high school. Without it, Forks would never be the same. The unwritten laws were what kept us stuck in this current situation.
Slipping in my headphones, I pulled out a book; a tattered copy of some sappy teen love story I picked up at the bookstore. It had a good plot line but yet I never understood how every one of these characters ended up in a happily-ever-after situation. Reading in this genre seemed only to give me a sickening feeling in my stomach and made me realize how much my life stunk at the moment; revealing three things that were abruptly clear: my music is at a stand point, I didn't have a boyfriend, and I wasn't the most popular girl in school. I can't say that I'm not frustrated with were my life is going but I can say that if being popular meant acting like complete white-trash then I was not interested.
Stepping off the bus, I walked straight over to Alice who was slumped over on the ledge out side of the main building; picking at, what looked like, a bread roll. Of course, it probably was not just any bread roll. It was probably stuffed with something delicious that her amazing chef mom whipped up this morning (I can't wait for the leftovers). Mrs. Cullen was the most ridiculously talented chefs I had ever seen. She could make peanut butter and jelly taste like it came from a five-star restaurant.
I, like many other teenagers, had begun to take off their headphones before the grumpy Mr. Richards sent us all to detention. Alice looked up from her sandwich and noticed me trying to fight through the crowd. She always joked that a high school in the morning was like the busy streets in New York. She was right.
After pushing through many ignorant girls who decided that they were going to stop dead in the middle of the walkway and squeal like small piglets trying to reach the trough. It got on both our nerves to the point where Alice would spend an hour each day ranting up in my room. I, of course, would then proceed to laugh as loud as I thought possible at the ridiculousness of the discussion.
One of the girls wasn't watching where she was going while stuffing her nose in her book, meanwhile smacking right into Alice. I quickly sprinted in their direction.
"Hey! Are you guys okay?" The strange girl apologized up one side and down the other while Alice tried to convince her that it happened to her a lot and that it was fine. Alice looked up and quirked an eye at me. I knew she was right because I was the clumsiest thing anyone had every seen and I was constantly falling into her.
"Good Morning Bella." She turned back around to bend over and help the unknown face. "Hi my name is Alice and this is Bella." She gave the girl a warm smile.
"My name is Rosalie." She spoke nervously as we walked into the looming halls of Forks High. Through a few brief lines of conversation we had learned that Rosalie had moved here from New York. We had invited her to sit with us at lunch and a sense relief washed over her face. I understood what it meant; she didn't want to have to sit alone.
I had reached my final destination; homeroom. It wasn't that I was worried about going into class it was that I was afraid that I would fall on my way in. Having a history of being clumsy does not give someone the confidence to walk into a class full of teenagers.
Reaching around the doorframe, I slowly trudged my way to an empty seat in the back of the class. This day was going to be a long one and I was not in the mood. This morning I pulled on my favorite pair jeans, an old Linkin Park t-shirt, and a black sweatshirt with a picture of a pair of bulky headphones with a music staff behind it. It was quite possibly my favorite sweatshirt I owned. Of course, attached with my attire I had pulled on a pair of red high tops that laced all the way up, my favorite shoes.
Slumping in my seat, I took in my surroundings. My homeroom teacher, Mr. Banner, was taking lunch count. His voice droned on and on and on until finally he had went through the whole class list. The lunch here was disgusting and it was quite obvious that no one ate it, ever.
I glanced over towards the door where loud laughter was coming from. Walking into homeroom, Jacob Black walked into the room. Girls followed him everywhere so it wasn't new that high pitched squealing laced his every move. He was a magnet to every blonde bombshell within the tri-state area but for some reason, I had a crush on him.
Like it? Hate it? Tell ME! It is a EXB fic just keep reading.