Disclaimer: Me? Own this awesomeness? –bursts out in hysterical laughter-
"This school is terrible," Christine hissed at lunch. Meg shrugged indifferently.
"I told you, didn't I?"
"Yes, but…" She paused to take a violent bite of her sandwich, then continued furiously. "But the kids here are…are…"
"Evil?" Meg supplied. "Again, I believe I informed you. You'll get used to it, Chrissy, don't worry."
"Terrific," Christine muttered sarcastically, wanting nothing to do with the kids and their malicious insanity. Throughout the remainder of the Geometry class period, they had continued to mock the silent T.A., despite the fact that he'd done nothing to provoke them. One kid, on his way back from the pencil sharpener, stabbed the poor boy in the shoulder; when Erik blanched slightly, he made an innocent face and continued on his way. The boy hadn't said a word, had barely lifted his covered-head, but Christine's heart went immediately and inexplicably out to him.
The next hour hadn't been much better. English class and although Erik wasn't there, her thoughts lingered on him, helped along by the constant chatter of her classmates.
"He was in my first hour," one girl had cried as if in horror. "He sat in the back with that stupid hood on and I could feel his eyes on me. It was disgusting."
"Sounds like hell," a boy had replied feelingly, rubbing the girl's arms from behind. "I wish I was in that class; I'd beat the crap out of him for you."
Christine's blood had risen in anger. She'd gripped her notebook tightly enough to mark up her palm with spiral-shaped scratches and glared at the duo who was insulting the so-far-as-she-could-see innocent boy. They, of course, took no notice of her, which only infuriated her more.
No one talked about Erik during Chemistry, and for this Christine was thankful. She wasn't sure why he remained at the front of her mind, but she was certain that she would have snapped if she'd had to hear one more horrid thing about him from her new school-mates.
"I knew you'd be pleased," Meg said calmly. Christine jumped, having forgotten that they'd been conversing in the first place. "Do you have homework yet?" the other girl continued and Christine twitched slightly.
"A little," she answered darkly. "But Meg, you should've heard these kids—"
"Christine, I've heard them, all right?" Meg sighed. "You can complain all you like, but there is nowhere else to go. I suggest you do as I did and accept this is your reality. Do you think you can do that?"
If this had come from anyone else in the world, Christine might've been angry or at the very least hurt by the comment. However, as she and Meg were close as sisters, the words did nothing to faze her. All she did in response was to lean back against the plastic seat and pout.
"Hey, cheer up." Meg poked her with a too-ripe banana. "Choir next hour, remember? It's the one class that I've ever really enjoyed here. Well…with the exception of elementary school gym. But everyone loved that class."
Christine shrugged, trying to keep from dwelling on the old memories her friend was dragging to mind.
"Terrific," she repeated. She enjoyed singing as well—probably more than Meg could ever know—but the concept of breaking into song in front of so many of these terrible people made her feel like vomiting up the sandwich she'd so viciously consumed.
Her late father's voice echoed in her mind, humming more than speaking. Little Lottie, it murmured, don't let them frighten you from something you love.
A bell squawked and Christine jumped, torn from the vision of her father's gentle face. Faint violin music danced through her mind, then faded like wisps of smoke. Meg's hand closed over her arm.
"C'mon," she commanded, hauling Christine out of her seat. "Madame will be cranky if we're late."
"Madame?" Christine repeated, frowning. "Is it choir class or French?"
"You'll see." Meg was smiling rather mysteriously, which only caused Christine's frown to deepen. When her friend became cryptic, life got difficult, she'd learned. She much preferred the "out with it!" attitude that Meg Giry usually conveyed.
As the petite blond half-dragged her down to the secluded choir room, Christine forced her mind to release the mystery that was "Madame" and tried instead to focus on singing. She hadn't done so in front of a crowd for a very long time—over eight months, at least—and the idea wasn't a pleasant one. The vomity sensation returned. What if they laughed at her? She could end up like this Erik person, alienated and ridiculed.
I wonder why they pick on him…
"This is the choir room?" she said aloud. Meg grinned.
"Fabulous, isn't it . It's so out of the way that half the assholes don't even know it's here. Only the best survive in this class."
"Oh." Christine's heart sank lower; if she had to guess it's location, she would say that it was resting somewhere around her ankles. "What if…what if I'm not good enough?"
"Something tells me you will be," Meg answered, eyes still glinting happily. "Come on, let's find seats!"
Christine allowed herself to be pulled to a spot in the front row. This room was enormous, like a small gymnasium. There were two rows of desks set along one wall, a piano against another, and a set of bleachers where, Christine assumed, the class would line up day after day to sing. She shivered, excited in spite of her mounting anxiety. The acoustics in here had to be wonderful! And, just at the back of the room, was a door marked STAGE. Would they be performing? She thrilled at the idea; even if it was for those awful people, the chance to be on stage, making music…
My, aren't we contradictory today? her mind chuckled. First the terror, now the excitement. What's next; are you going to get up and do a little jig on your desk?
Meg was smirking, the concealer of a private joke. Christine frowned yet again.
"Are you just going to leave me hanging forever or what?" she demanded.
"Shh," was all her friend would say. Christine gritted her teeth in annoyance.
"You're so—"
"Attention!" a woman's voice rang out from the head of the room. Christine's head snapped up quickly enough to give her whiplash.
Mrs. Giry stood before them, looking more severe than Christine had ever seen her.
"Her?" she whispered, shocked. Meg's grin widened further.
"Didn't I tell you my mother's a teacher?" she asked innocently.
"Class, I am Madame Giry," the woman whom Christine had thought she knew announced. "Some of you," –her eyes lingered on Meg and Christine—"may know me as something other than the name I've just provided you with. I ask you to refer to me during this class as Madame at all times, simply to promote a sense of equality. In this particular class, you see, there is only equality. No one is smarter than the others as is so frequent in other courses; if you aren't good enough to be here, you will cease to attend class. Everyone is equally beautiful here; at the same time, you are all open to criticism. My critical ways will soften for no one. Do we understand each other?"
"Yes, Madame," the class chorused. Christine wriggled a bit in her seat, eager to begin.
Noticing, Madame Giry smiled. "Miss Daae, since you are so obviously full of energy, would you kindly go collect our accompanist?"
"Sure," Christine answered. "…Where is she?"
"He," Madame corrected her smoothly, "is probably downstairs. Go out that door, down the stairs, and into the little room you'll find there. Tell him that we're nearly ready."
Christine nodded and got up. Meg kicked her ankle lightly, still beaming; she smiled back, feeling truly happy for the first time in hours.
A/N: Ookay, another short chapter. I think these will get longer, but you never know. Umm…yes, the Madame Giry thing is kind of odd, but she was the only teacher for this class. Seriously. And it works…just strangely. –smiles-
Review replies:
Angel-of-Music1331- Yes, Raoul will appear. I'm pretty sure of how, I'm just not sure when…soon, I believe.
Phantom of the Past- Cool name! As for how I'm going to pull it off…wait and see!