Picking up my backpack, I give the hallways one last glance before running towards the old choir room.

When I arrive, I open the door quietly and slip in, making sure not to turn on the lights. I drop my bag, pull out my notebook and pick up the guitar. I give it a look and turn it in my hands, then blow the dust off.

I sit down and let out a big sigh, I didn't know how long I could keep this up. Skipping class to play guitar and sing? Sure I was only missing gym, and as long as I kept showing up at the end of class I would keep passing, but still. Why did our school have to cut funding towards music?

I look around the room at all the interments, they haven't been played in god knows how long. Before we were the top music school in B.C. and now we were just any old high school.

I shake my head and set my notebook on the stand in front of me, and begin playing, getting lost in the music.

I had been playing for about 20 minutes before my thoughts were interrupted by the P.A. system. "Amber Ramsay, to the office. Amber Ramsay."

My eyes go wide, had I been caught? I blow a piece of my dark brown side bangs out of my face, and get up, making sure everything looks just like it did when I walked in before I leave, taking my time to get to the office.

When I arrive I see a teacher I see my dad, Josh Ramsay standing with his arms crossed and an annoyed expression on his face next to the principle. I make sure to keep my eyes glued to my pink converse high tops.

"Amber Ramsay, why were you not in gym class?" Mrs. Hale asks me.

I shrug my shoulders. "I had other things."

"Like?"

"Why do you need to know?" I ask, then instantly regret it.

"Well, because we know that you have been regularly skipping class, you are suspended for three days." Mrs. Hale says, before turning into her office, leaving me sitting in the most un comfortable plastic chair, and my dad.

"I'm sorry." I say weakly.

"Sorry isn't going to get you back to school now is it? Get your stuff, we'll talk about this when we get home." He says, shaking his head.

The car ride home was awkward. I sat in the passenger seat with my legs crossed and in my lap. Before we left my dad had taken away both my Ipod and phone, so I was forced to listen to the old CD's he kept in the car.

When we pull up to my house, I get out without saying one word, and stand at the front door, not wanting to go in.

"Well?" My dad says, and I turn to him, this time making eye contact.

"I only did it because the school stopped funding the music program. Those interments haven't been played in forever! Everyone makes fun of me when I practise somewhere else, so I practise in there, during gym. We haven't had a music class since 2000. No band since 2003." I say, pleading to him now, "Please don't be mad."

"Amber, I get where you're coming from, yes it's wrong that they did that, but you shouldn't be cutting class to play music! We have all the stuff in the basement!" My dad replies calmly.

I shake my head, and turn the door handle, walk in and run upstairs. I can hear my dad give a big sigh as I slam my door shut.

I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling for what seems like forever. I roll over and open up Masterpiece Theater, Marianas Trench's second album and put it in my old CD player. Masterpiece Theater part 1 fills my room and I lay there still.

Some people thought it was weird that I had my dad's old band's albums, but to me they were comforting. If I was scared, or worried, I would put in one, and my dad's voice would comfort me.

Marianas Trench was still famous, sort of. I mean, I was a big deal, being the lead singer's first, and only kid, I was pretty popular on those star gossip shows. The band was still in magazines like People and such, and with that brought me being sort of famous, even though I didn't really want it. Once in a while a random teenage girl will come up to me and ask me for a picture, and of course I will say yes, but my parents wanted me to be as normal as possible.

There's a knock at my door, then my dad walks in. She sits in the edge of my bed, and looks at me.

"I don't want to hear you yelling at me" I say, not looking at him.

"I'm not here to yell, I wanted to say I'm on your side, but I was sent up here to tell you you're grounded."

I jump up, "I'm what!? And you're WHAT!?"

"I totally get why you did what you did, and I mean I did way worse when I was 17" My dad says shaking his head.

I smirk, "Thanks" I reply, smiling.

"He leans over and picks up the CD case sitting on my bed, "God, this is so old." He says examining it. "Oh yeah, the boys are coming over for dinner tonight. We're having pizza!" My dad says, then he gets up and walks out.

I sigh, getting up to touch my ends, throughout the day my pin straight hair had formed a little wave at the bottom.

When I'm done, I lay sit down at my desk, and am about to turn on my computer, when I realize that my parents put a lock on it, no computer until I'm un-grounded.

I spin around on my spinney chair and sit there singing along to good to you.

And I do, I want you to know I hold you up, above everyone else.