Just go for it. Not hard. Press the keys. Let the music flow. And most of all, don't let emotion get in the way.

Jennette furrowed her brow with frustration once more, running through the two-octave F scale on her flute.

"No, no, no!!"

She winced at the noise from the practice room next door that followed. A high pitched squeak, a noise that the particular instrument would not be accustomed to.

Then the squeak of oily screws turning. . .

And, last but not least, the almost muted sound of a crack.

Another broken reed.

"Dammit Sam, can't you do anything right?!?!" She yelled, banging her fist twice on the thin wall separating the two rooms.

There was silence from the other side for a moment, followed by the crash of a door and a figure materializing behind her. So silent that Jennette jumped when she noted his presence. His cheek next to her bright, flushed one was hard to ignore. She had an admittingly nice view of his baby blue eyes and crisp blonde locks. The light shade you only saw on cheerful toddlers or the princes in fairy tale books.

"I almost had it." He stated in his defense, looking at her music. "Are you stumbling over the E natural again? Was that why you were running through the F concert scale?"

Jennette only sighed, taking this moment to push her frames a bit higher up on her nose.

"I was doing perfectly fine until you started playing that crap you call a choice solo." She snapped back with more emotion than she had intended. Ugh, why did Samuel Jamesinson have to be the only one who could successfully affect her this way?

She prided herself on always being in check. And even since that first day in sixth grade, he was her undoing. The only one who could crack her shell.

XxX

A small girl with dark, raven curls cascading down her back and violet eyes hidden behind black frames twiddled her thumbs in her band class. Ah, the first day of middle school. No more crayons, brightly colored projects lining the walls, or even the slightest hint of cheer. It left the other students feeling depressed and nervous.

But she loved it.

The band room itself was clearly a bit more lively. There were bright posters advertising band and putting down the orchestra, walls painted with cheery murals, and percussion instruments lining all the walls.. It was no place you would expect to see a child flute prodigy enhancing her skills. She could very well have been playing with the symphony orchestra downtown. Yet, studies came before music, her mother scolded.

And so, the prestigious Broomswell Academy Beginning Band Class was initiating before her eyes. Students sporting the same likelihood of uniform as herself filled the room seat by seat, and as the tardy bell rang, Miss Loverly started lecturing her newest batch of musicians on how the following three years would be. Cruel, hard work. If you were to only summarize into three words.

Then, suddenly, a disruption. Something tore the class' attention away from their instructor and to the double doors leading to the band room. There was a rag-tag looking kid there, his uniform battered and fresh blood positively oozing from various cuts on his legs, arms, and face. Yet, he still had the goofy grin one might expect on somebody much younger.

"Excuse me for intruding, but I'm here for class?" He didn't sound like he had any desire to be excused in the least, but the teacher rolled her eyes and motioned to the empty chair next to Jennette's.

"You're quite lucky it's only the first day. The bell rang a good twenty three minutes ago." She scolded as he plopped down, apparently not even listening to the young director anymore.

Then, as Miss Loverly continued with her terms of punishment, finding the boy's late entry the perfect introduction, he leaned over and whispered "You're cute." Jennette shot him a glare. Her elder sister had warned me about how many guys in middle school would pick the ugliest girl they saw and compliment them, just so they might have a good laugh later about how she was flattered.

"Shut up, the teacher's--" She started in a soft, but harsh tone, yet was cut off by Miss Loverly.

"...And we are quite lucky to have Jennette-Lillian Wary here as, not only our private lessons instructor for our new flautists, but also as a student!" She felt her cheeks burn with a blush, which further ensured that the boy would burst out laughing right at that moment.

The instructor looked between her soon to be brightest student and her new nameless one, sensing a sort of electricity there with her "Teacher Powers".

"Both of you, outside the class for talking. I expected a great deal more from the young--" Jennette was out the door by that time, a scowl apparent on her features. While the boy was behind her, trotting along next to her at an almost-skip. As she leaned against the wall, he offered her a hand and a grin, proclaiming:

"I'm Sam, wanna be my best friend?"

XxX

Over the years, Jennette had learned that their relationship was sketchy. One day friends, the next enemies.

Today was an "frenemy" day.

"Its not crap!! Its a wonderful blend of three marches that the brave Scottish soldiers used at battle!"

"Yeah, and then they suddenly realized bagpipes droned on like someone's dying cat."

"You and your 'Chinese Folk Song' don't sound too dandy either."

"I stumbled over one note, is there something wrong with that?! You stumbled over all your notes and thoroughly succeeded in snapping your reed in half!!"

"You Flutes don't understand how fragile they are!!"

"Like your limbs last week when I sprained your leg?!"

Sam let out a sigh of annoyance, clearly not in the mood. "You. Said. You. Weren't. Going. To. Bring. That. Up. Again." He said through gritted teeth, his temper flaming by this time.

Jennette calmed herself down, breathing a light sigh. He was her only friend, she reminded herself. "Sorry, look, I'll buy you a new reed from Mr. Johns, alright?" As they had moved up to high school, they found that the teachers were no longer generous with their reeds, as the kind Miss Loverly had been.

"You still owe me a dollar, anyways." He said smugly, laying down his case and sitting down on the same chair as her while screwing on his backup reed.

Jennette poked him in the shoulder. "Get off! Some people have to practice decently! I am not sharing this room with you!!"

Sam just stuck out his tongue at her tauntingly, "Oh, c'mon, Jenn! You know you love me!!" Followed by a kissy face which earned him a shove that pushed him off her chair. Yet, she was blushing.

He didn't know how right he was.

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