I was scared to death of what Mr. Spear was going to say to me in his office. So scared, in fact that I barely managed to choke down a cup of coffee and run to the bathroom to brush my teeth before I walked to his studio. He was waiting for me with a grim look on his face.

"Sit," he commanded, pointing at the chair where I had sat for so many lessons.

I followed his orders, folding my hands in my lap and staring at them, bracing myself for what I knew was coming. His earlier outburst had only been a preview of what was to come.

"Alexandria, Do you want to play the French horn or do you want to be a French horn player?" he asked me in a calm voice.

"I want to be a French horn player," I told him, not entirely sure what the difference was.

"You don't know what I'm talking about," he said. There was no question in his voice. He sighed. "Alex, someone who plays the French horn is someone who is average to good. They can play almost anything easily. That's where you are. A French horn player is a true master of the instrument, someone who loves the instrument, and someone who is dedicated to the music. I'll ask the question again. Do you want to be someone who plays the French horn or do you want to be a French horn player?"

"I want to be a French horn player," I said firmly.

"Then act like you want to!" he shouted, his calm tone disappearing. "God damn it Alex! You have more skill, more talent, and more potential then anyone your age I've ever met. I can't seem to get that through your skull! It's partly my fault, I suppose. I criticize more than I praise but it doesn't make it less true! Alex, I got the board to let you in the first place. Then I got them to provide you with a scholarship so you would pick this over Julliard. I did all that for you! Not only that but the board had agreed that pending an audition and the end result of these two weeks, you will be allowed in as a full time student. I did all this for you and how exactly do you repay me? You risk everything by standing out where people can see you making out with your little boyfriend! My God Alex! Have some sense at least! If you insist on carrying on like such—which I do NOT condone in the lease by the way—then do it in a way that you won't get caught! Or don't do it at all! Aside from potential problems that we will not discuss right now, that boy will be nothing but trouble for you! He used to attend here, I know him. He was a day student and he was so close to being thrown out many times. I don't want you dating him but I can't prevent it. According to Robbie, you have a good head on your shoulders. USE IT! Do you understand?"

"Yes sir," I said, avoiding his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Look at me!" he said. "And never say you're sorry. Just change what you're doing wrong. Now Alex… Do you understand?"

I looked up into his piercing eyes, so filled with contempt and anger but also hope. They were daring me to so no but I did understand so I nodded and said, "Yes sir. I understand."

He seemed almost to deflate. He nodded and looked at his watch. "Go get your horn and your music and be back in fifteen minutes for sectionals. You'll get your official schedule today. I believe you are signed up for the composition class as your elective. I know you have practice studio right after sectionals. Then you have composition before lunch. Now go. I want you back on time."

"Yes sir," I said, dashing off.

XxXxXxXxX

I placed my French horn in its case after the sectional rehearsal and gathered my music up, preparing to go down to the practice studio block in the next building.

"Good job on the duet in 'Air' Fern and Boyce. You did well," Mr. Spear said.

I was shocked at the compliment. He hardly ever said anything like that. I was so shocked that I didn't even say think you before exiting the studio. As I turned the corner of the hall, Rob came up beside me and placed an arm around me shoulders. He had a worried look on his face.

"What did he say?" Rob asked.

"A lot of stuff," I replied. "Mostly about my dedication to playing the French horn. He's right. He didn't forbid me to see you though. He just told me to be discreet and not get caught. Although he does not exactly condone me seeing you, he hasn't forbid it."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "That's good. I'd ask to share a practice room but we both know that isn't a good idea," he said.

"No, it's not," I said as we entered the practice block. Before he went off to the woodwind section and I to the brass section he stopped me.

"A little kiss is okay, right?" he asked, looking down at me.

I smiled and closed my eyes as he dipped his head forward kissing me softly before we went our separate ways.

"So," a voice behind me said. "You just want to be me don't you?"

I turned to see Angela standing behind me.

"You want my chair. You want my ex-best friend. You want my ex-boyfriend. You want to take lessons from my former teacher," she continued, sauntering toward me. "Well sorry sweetie. You will never be me. You will never be anything like me. You will never be as good as me at anything. Just look at you. You take it all second hand. You're nothing but a copying loser."

I looked at her levelly before striding past. As I walked, I said, "Think what you will Angela. But understand that it isn't all about you or me."

I walked into the practice studio and my hands began to shake. I had handled the true confrontation that I had feared and I had not let her get the best of me. That was good.

In a minute, my hands stopped shaking and I opened my horn case. Setting my tuner and metronome on the stand, I began to play through my scales and opened the notebook where all my assignments were posted. Mr. Spear had told me to go through the lip trill section of one of my books, the solo I'd auditioned on, and the three solos I would be playing at the concert. I was so absorbed in what I was doing, I barely noticed the time passing. I had never practiced so intensely. It had to do with being in a room free of distractions. The walls were painted a calming shade of blue with a padded ceiling, floor, and one wall. The only things in the room were a chair, music stand, and table, aside from what I had brought in with me. Before I knew it, it was 11:30 and according to my schedule, Composition time.

I walked to an unfamiliar building. I had never been inside it before but I knew it was the vocal music building. I was a fair singer but nothing that would merit being enrolled in a vocal program. Instrumental music was my passion. However, the composition lab was in that building so that was where I needed to be. I managed to get lost twice in the sea of polished white marble before arriving to class two minutes late, flushed and breathless from running.

"Well," the teacher said. "Who is this?"

"Fern—Scott!" I huffed out.

"Very well, very well," he said, pushing me toward an open computer.

As I was sitting down he stopped me.

"Wait just a second there young lady! You were late. I however do not give demerits. I give public humiliation. Sing 'I'm a little teapot' in the key of A flat. I will give you your starting pitch." He tapped a note on the keyboard. "Go!"

And I began. "I'm a little teapot short and stout." I did the arm motions. "Here is my handle. Here is my spout…" Oh the humiliation! The whole class stared at me while I reddened and continued singing. When I was finally finished, I took my seat and stared at the keyboard hooked up to my computer.

"Now," the teacher said. "Lets get on with this. I am Dr. Jacobs. You will call me Dr. Jacobs and nothing else. I will teach you to write music for the band and orchestra. Now everyone who has ever written music for their band, please raise your hand."

I did, thinking of the CD in my purse.

"Good," he said. "Does anyone have fore-mentioned music with them in hopes to impress the teacher?"

I sheepishly kept my hand raised with two other people.

"I'll take what you have," he said.

I handed him my CD while the other two handed over floppy disks and printed scores. To my surprise, he immediately popped on of the floppy disks into his computer and opened the score. He began playing it.

As I listening, I noticed a few errors, some wrong notes and bad chords. I also took note of some confusion with the melody and counter melody. However, the ending was beautiful.

"Hm," Dr. Jacobs said. "Not as bad as some things I've heard before but you need to know theory before you can write music."

He put in the next disk and let us listen to it. The piece was long. The chords and notes were correct but it was fairly boring as far as the melodic stuff went.

"Opposite end of the spectrum," he said. "You know theory but you have to imagination to make it beautiful. Dream, girl."

The girl he was referring to blushed and looked away.

Then he placed my CD in the player. It was the same piece I had let Mr. Harvey listen to on the way to my first French horn lesson. As it played, I cringed at a few places where I noticed wrong notes and some poor selections of who to give the part to. However, I glowed when the beautiful lyrical section was played. I had slaved over that section for days, trying to get the arrangement just right. When the seven-minute piece was done playing, he nodded.

"Better than the other two," Dr. Jacobs said. "Although I was with you every time you cringed. Minor details though. You have the idea but you need to refine it, Miss. Late-to-class. Everyone! Please open Music Theory for the Instrumentalist on your computer and do lessons one and two before this class is over in twenty minutes. Miss. Late-to-class, I would like you to open the score file on the CD and edit the chords in the first section until you are satisfied before you do your lessons. Get to work!"

We all began working on the assignments, myself opening the program and looking over the chords. That was it! I had given the fourth horns the wrong progression. I corrected it and played it back. Perfect! Dr. Jacobs nodded.

"Good," he said. "You figured it out. Take the time to check things before you declare it finished. Now go on to your lessons."

Dr. Jacobs was an interesting character. He was serious one moments, playful the next. He was like an intricate puzzle of many different colored pieces that just had to be put together in the right order to make sense. I was almost disappointed to pack my things up at one for lunch. Almost was the key word. After lunch, my free time lasted until five o'clock, at which time was group rehearsal until six thirty. After rehearsal came my lesson, then dinner. After dinner was more free time, which I knew exactly, how I'd be spending: with Rob off somewhere we couldn't be caught making out.

I wished we could spend more time together but he had mornings off and I had afternoons. Granted, it would allow me to do more things I needed to do. I needed to check out the library and the bookstore, as well as take a swim since I was dying to see their Olympic size swimming pool.

At lunch, I sat with Rob, Kat, and John who was eyeing Kat curiously. I wasn't sure what it meant but I had my suspicions. However, as I ate my lunch with Rob's arm around my shoulder, I could feel Mr. Spear's eyes boring into my back. I knew what he was thinking and I didn't like it one bit.

XxXxXxXxX

The official day of classes was over and it was after dinner. Rob and I walked outside in the fading daylight, hand in hand. I could feel his warmth, as well as my own. I loved the feeling. I wanted nothing more than to walk with him at that moment in time. It was so nice to be adored by someone so completely. Even if I wasn't completely sure if I felt that way for him, he knew he did. I admired his confidence in himself and in his feelings. I however didn't trust my own fingers, much less my own heart. When I kissed him, I felt sparks but nothing like the fire of kissing David. Not even close.

But what I had with David was nonexistent. It would never be anything more than I foolish dream. It was best to forget about it.

Rob lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles. "What are you thinking about?" he asked.

I suddenly felt guilty about thinking about another guy while with my boyfriend. "Not a lot," I lied. "Just some music stuff."

"Perhaps I can distract you," he said, sitting down on a park bench. He kissed me. We made out for a good thirty minutes, the last few of which my shirt had gradually been edged up for his hands to explore. Things had been moving quite fast for us lately. I wondered how long it would be before he got up my shirt. Shaking my head slightly, I took his hand and walked back toward the dorms. There were other more important things to think about besides when my boyfriend was going to feel me up. I needed to figure out what I needed to do to make Mr. Spear happy with me. Aside from giving up on all men, going without a social life, and spending all of my waking hours thinking of only playing my horn, I had no idea how to please him. Was it even possible?

I didn't know.

I was so full of doubts and fears. I had no idea what to do with myself. I guessed I'd have to just wait and see what would happen. And did things ever happen.

XxXxXxXxX

So yeah…

I decided to work on the next chapter… and it came out in one evening… don't you feel lucky?

So, read, review, and annoy me so I'll update faster.