2
Katyusha and Matthew only shared one other class besides French. She played the cello, he played the violin. They learned this while sitting at lunch, outside on the grass. Matthew imagined it was a magical, picnic, but the loud curse words from asinine sophomores threatened to disrupt that fantasy.
Matthew bit into his awfully dry sandwich and looked over at Katyusha, who was sitting cross-legged and holding a thermostat up to her mouth.
She noticed him looking and turned over to him. "Oh, Matthew, I've been meaning to ask, since you told me about orchestra last period—why do you play the violin?"
Matthew swallowed his bite, taking extra measures to look neat, "I don't really know, it was either that or the viola." He lied, "And I don't like the viola too h—much,"
"Hm?" She looked at him curiously, picking up a dumpling and eating it.
"Hm what?"
"You were about to say something else, besides 'much'."
"Oh, no it's nothing. It's a Freudian slip." He nodded. She decided not to question him further and continued on with her meal. The lunch bell tolled and they grouchily rose to their feet, ready for another mess of classes.
Last period would not come fast enough. Matthew grew more and more nervous, certain that Katyusha would shove him into the feared 'friend-zone' and leave him there to rot. She was the first girl he really, really liked. Most other girls he would look at, think they were cute, but they would shoot him a strange glance that he would instantly drop any fantasies of getting closer to them. Besides, he wasn't a believer of dating girls that wouldn't last.
Finally, after what? A billion years? Matthew rushed to his locker and pulled out his violin, but his knees turned to water. What if Katyusha didn't like him back? He swallowed hard. That would be terribly, dreadful…
Matthew shrugged it off, trying to think positively. Brother said to always look for the happiness in a situation. Even if she didn't return his feelings of amour he would still have a great friend.
He shuffled into the wide classroom. It smelled faintly of almonds. He chose a seat in the midst of the other violinists, as close as he could get to the cellists, that is. Katyusha sat next to him, removing the smooth, shiny wooden instrument from its case. She placed it against her, leaning down to tune it. Matthew noticed how nice her breasts were, but dismissed it nervously. No, he would keep this strictly out of the sexual side.
Unless...
No, there is no "unless".
The teacher, a silent, stiff man with a heavy Austrian accent, walked in. He cast a frozen look about the class room and stood in the front. "This is my first year teaching here, but far from my first of teaching music." He demonstrated this by sitting at the piano, raising the lid, and playing Moonlight Sonata. He pressed every correct note, filled it with such undeniable passion, and flung it into the air with sophistication. He never smiled once.
Matthew and Katyusha exchanged glances. When their eyes met Matthew felt his heart beat faster and turned away quickly.
The teacher stood, "My name is Mr. Edelstein, you shall address me as that and only that. Now, for warm-ups, as you call them, I will play several notes and you will repeat them…" He picked up a worn, but handsome, viola and poised his fingers, waiting for the class to be prepared.
After class, tired and worn out by Edelstein's extensive and hard class, Matthew waited for Katyusha to finish packing her cello.
She smiled at him and they headed up to collect their things, ready to go home.
