The damnable locker would not open - damn, damn, damn, she thought brutally.
Marie wondered how a simplistic metal contraption could be the object that could bring
her vengeful wrath down upon it. She wanted to shove her large textbooks into it - to
be rid of the insufferable bastards that would surely give her problems later.
She did not sense any one behind her, nonetheless, some one still stalked in
fierce manner. If Marie had moved - flinched even one inch to the right, she would
have surely been knocked unconscious. A tanned hand backhanded the locker, sending
a deafening echo throughout the hallway. Many students turned to gaze at where the
sound had erupted from - red would not even begin to describe Marie's skin tone at
that moment.
"Hey, you're the new girl - right?"
Marie peered up at the boy - he was lithe - extremely - dark hair and exceedingly
shadowed eyes. She searched the broken banks of her memory, and could not recall ever
beholding him. The boy struck out his hand to shake hers - for him it was the only
well-mannered thing to do.
"I'm Colin Hart," he announced, as if it were the name of God.
"Oh,"
She let her hand stay limp in his, forgetting almost to breathe. She did not
become astounded by his presence, but of his actual communicating with her. No one -
usually - no one usually walked up to the new kid and just frankly introduced themselves.
"Don't you have something to say?" he wiggled her arm.
"Oh," she said again, but this time in realization that he expected to hear her name,
"Marie Bailey."
"Well," grinned Colin, "Marie Bailey, it's a pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise,"
She left Colin standing confounded - in the hall - alone. It was not that she
abhorred him - she did not - merely disliked him a great deal. Besides, Marie desperately
needed to get to her next class. She swept down stairs as wind does a plain, and Colin
thought he detected a faint scent of Vanilla.
The class was disturbingly serene as Marie allowed the door to shut - an echo,
then eyes upon eyes on her existence. She stood, waiting for the choir teacher to take
notice of her. But, maybe she should have just walked to stand with the rest of the class,
because Colin rushed in, bumping into her - she stumbled.
With fast reflexes rammed into his brain, Colin caught Marie before she fell. She could feel
strong arms around her waist. This only served to place a comforting sense throughout her
entire body - embarrassment. Colin let her go as quickly as he had caught her - he took his
place among the stock of students. The choir teacher glanced at her - sighed almost detestably -
motioned for her to stand on the bottom row.
The teacher seemed a bit too cheerful for her taste. It was still early in mourning -
she thought people were still sucking down as much coffee as possible at this time. But,
from she could abstract, the administrator was a clean freak, as well as on a natural high
that never ceased to exist.
"So, tell me, what do you sing as?"
Marie from the corners of her orbs could behold some trying to catch a glimpse of her -
to see what she was doing or going to say. She gulped stridently - a few titters and muffled
snickers followed directly. Singing - she wondered briefly if it was too late to change classes -
singing was something she could not do, at least before people.
"I - I'm not sure," she mumbled, irritably.
"So," the teacher drawled, joyously, "why don't you sing a little ditty and I'll tell you
where you belong."
"I don't belong any where," Marie slurred under her breath.
She then felt a jab in the small of her back. It sent goose flesh bubbling up everywhere -
Marie shivered delightfully. A whisper from a boy let her know that it was the foremost person she
had encountered.
"Pardon?"
Another jab made her jump - a different spot on her back - ticklish. Marie almost squealed,
refrained on some miraculous moment - settled for a galling smirk. The teacher of choir did not seem
to notice her aggravation, so she looked on as if no mumble - whisper had been voiced.
"I do not sing, Madame,"
"Oh, everyone sings, child - just some better than others,"
Marie rolled her eyes at the pride noted in the woman's voice. Her chest had popped out a
bit and her back was straight as a board. Indeed, conceit articulated itself within this teacher's
being. Along with this virgin feeling of arrogance, she felt something that could be summed up as
irritation.
"It's your first day of school, I would hope that you wanted to have first grades as that not of the
failing nature - especially in a class as undemanding as this one,"
Marie took this as a threat - a threat and a promise. The teacher did appear drugged, but she
also could be pleasant, if given what she wanted. And, at this very moment she wanted to hear a voice
that was deafly afraid of being heeded. She conceded blatantly - what else could she do?
"What shall I sing?"
"Pick something first, then I'll tell you what to sing - if you know it, that is,"
Marie nodded - was that not reasonable - some invisible pulling made her want to add a smart
comment. Perhaps sing something by Weird Al, or another parody singer. She loathed being there at that
very moment in time - why could that boy Colin not have knocked her out onto the floor, she wondered.
There was nothing that could be done, she surmised, she would be forced to sing.
Racking her mind for what exactly to sing, she glanced left and down, she could see Ephram's feet - one
was tapping insatiably, waiting for something - anything to happen. It came to her, a profound inkling
that the melody that needed to be heard was new - not some teeny-bopper's dream of Moulin Rouge rip-off,
and not something from "oh, so sappy Titanic", but a tune that could verbalize for itself.
"Oh, Lord won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz, my friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends . . ."
The tune was short, as well as meant to be sung without any music - at least that is the way
that Marie always heard Janis Joplin sing it. But, then again, Janis did not really sing - she belted
out long, low, moaning blues, that could make a rich man cry. It was over before it really began - the
song - loud - filling. Many were shocked that such a diminutive girl like her could cause echoes of wings.
There was no applause, no shouts of glee, Marie expected as much. She also wondered why that
the "Queen of Rock-n-Roll" could not be recognized. Then, she laughed in spite of herself - they would
only distinguish classic music if it was flashed across a commercial that had half naked girls or guys.
Marie wondered how a simplistic metal contraption could be the object that could bring
her vengeful wrath down upon it. She wanted to shove her large textbooks into it - to
be rid of the insufferable bastards that would surely give her problems later.
She did not sense any one behind her, nonetheless, some one still stalked in
fierce manner. If Marie had moved - flinched even one inch to the right, she would
have surely been knocked unconscious. A tanned hand backhanded the locker, sending
a deafening echo throughout the hallway. Many students turned to gaze at where the
sound had erupted from - red would not even begin to describe Marie's skin tone at
that moment.
"Hey, you're the new girl - right?"
Marie peered up at the boy - he was lithe - extremely - dark hair and exceedingly
shadowed eyes. She searched the broken banks of her memory, and could not recall ever
beholding him. The boy struck out his hand to shake hers - for him it was the only
well-mannered thing to do.
"I'm Colin Hart," he announced, as if it were the name of God.
"Oh,"
She let her hand stay limp in his, forgetting almost to breathe. She did not
become astounded by his presence, but of his actual communicating with her. No one -
usually - no one usually walked up to the new kid and just frankly introduced themselves.
"Don't you have something to say?" he wiggled her arm.
"Oh," she said again, but this time in realization that he expected to hear her name,
"Marie Bailey."
"Well," grinned Colin, "Marie Bailey, it's a pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise,"
She left Colin standing confounded - in the hall - alone. It was not that she
abhorred him - she did not - merely disliked him a great deal. Besides, Marie desperately
needed to get to her next class. She swept down stairs as wind does a plain, and Colin
thought he detected a faint scent of Vanilla.
The class was disturbingly serene as Marie allowed the door to shut - an echo,
then eyes upon eyes on her existence. She stood, waiting for the choir teacher to take
notice of her. But, maybe she should have just walked to stand with the rest of the class,
because Colin rushed in, bumping into her - she stumbled.
With fast reflexes rammed into his brain, Colin caught Marie before she fell. She could feel
strong arms around her waist. This only served to place a comforting sense throughout her
entire body - embarrassment. Colin let her go as quickly as he had caught her - he took his
place among the stock of students. The choir teacher glanced at her - sighed almost detestably -
motioned for her to stand on the bottom row.
The teacher seemed a bit too cheerful for her taste. It was still early in mourning -
she thought people were still sucking down as much coffee as possible at this time. But,
from she could abstract, the administrator was a clean freak, as well as on a natural high
that never ceased to exist.
"So, tell me, what do you sing as?"
Marie from the corners of her orbs could behold some trying to catch a glimpse of her -
to see what she was doing or going to say. She gulped stridently - a few titters and muffled
snickers followed directly. Singing - she wondered briefly if it was too late to change classes -
singing was something she could not do, at least before people.
"I - I'm not sure," she mumbled, irritably.
"So," the teacher drawled, joyously, "why don't you sing a little ditty and I'll tell you
where you belong."
"I don't belong any where," Marie slurred under her breath.
She then felt a jab in the small of her back. It sent goose flesh bubbling up everywhere -
Marie shivered delightfully. A whisper from a boy let her know that it was the foremost person she
had encountered.
"Pardon?"
Another jab made her jump - a different spot on her back - ticklish. Marie almost squealed,
refrained on some miraculous moment - settled for a galling smirk. The teacher of choir did not seem
to notice her aggravation, so she looked on as if no mumble - whisper had been voiced.
"I do not sing, Madame,"
"Oh, everyone sings, child - just some better than others,"
Marie rolled her eyes at the pride noted in the woman's voice. Her chest had popped out a
bit and her back was straight as a board. Indeed, conceit articulated itself within this teacher's
being. Along with this virgin feeling of arrogance, she felt something that could be summed up as
irritation.
"It's your first day of school, I would hope that you wanted to have first grades as that not of the
failing nature - especially in a class as undemanding as this one,"
Marie took this as a threat - a threat and a promise. The teacher did appear drugged, but she
also could be pleasant, if given what she wanted. And, at this very moment she wanted to hear a voice
that was deafly afraid of being heeded. She conceded blatantly - what else could she do?
"What shall I sing?"
"Pick something first, then I'll tell you what to sing - if you know it, that is,"
Marie nodded - was that not reasonable - some invisible pulling made her want to add a smart
comment. Perhaps sing something by Weird Al, or another parody singer. She loathed being there at that
very moment in time - why could that boy Colin not have knocked her out onto the floor, she wondered.
There was nothing that could be done, she surmised, she would be forced to sing.
Racking her mind for what exactly to sing, she glanced left and down, she could see Ephram's feet - one
was tapping insatiably, waiting for something - anything to happen. It came to her, a profound inkling
that the melody that needed to be heard was new - not some teeny-bopper's dream of Moulin Rouge rip-off,
and not something from "oh, so sappy Titanic", but a tune that could verbalize for itself.
"Oh, Lord won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz, my friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends . . ."
The tune was short, as well as meant to be sung without any music - at least that is the way
that Marie always heard Janis Joplin sing it. But, then again, Janis did not really sing - she belted
out long, low, moaning blues, that could make a rich man cry. It was over before it really began - the
song - loud - filling. Many were shocked that such a diminutive girl like her could cause echoes of wings.
There was no applause, no shouts of glee, Marie expected as much. She also wondered why that
the "Queen of Rock-n-Roll" could not be recognized. Then, she laughed in spite of herself - they would
only distinguish classic music if it was flashed across a commercial that had half naked girls or guys.