Couldn't find a song to go with this chapter, so we'll have to go without. Just a filler, nothing really important happens.

Hope you like :)

Park Ridge State High School 2013 Concert

PLACES NOW OPEN

Those interested: see Miss Basso

Date: TBA

Reiminder-Art students: See Ms Trouillefou for Costume Ball hall decorating

Dez handed round our muffins, warm from the tuckshop oven, and nudged me as I gazed at the poster. "I'll be playing in the concert, with the senior band. Thinking of entering?"

"Hmm, maybe." I shrugged and took a bite, immediately grimacing at the taste. "Ugh, what is this?"

"Oops, must be mine." Bex examined her wrapper, then mine. "Yep, see, mine's the gluten-free one."

We exchanged packages, just in time for Indianna Brightman, senior, cheer captain and ultimate dumb blonde, and her cheerleader friends to walk by and see. Esme was her idol, so it was no surprise that she delighted in trying to bully everyone.

"Aw, look, the little girls are sharing food now! How cute!" Indi smirked and tried to pat Bex's head. Which, of course, Bex didn't allow. Ducking away, she broke off a piece of her muffin, crumbled it in her hand, and sprinkled it in the blonde girl's hair.

"My hair!" Indi gasped, frantically trying to brush them out. "What the hell, you little freak?"

"Wha-" I was interrupted by Dez, who pushed me roughly and gaze me a look that plainly said 'do not even think about getting involved here', and was forced to hold my tongue. Meanwhile, after scowling evily and muttering threats at Bex, Indi stalked off, probably to the bathroom to finished fixing her hair, and Bex looked quite proud of herself. Dez, however, didn't.

"You shouldn't have provoked her," she scolded Bex, who rolled her eyes. "And you should've just ignored her," she continued, glancing disapprovingly at me.

I sighed, taking one last look at the concert poster before taking a step in the direction of the Music block. "Yes, mum. Just be grateful I didn't end up saying what I was gonna say. Those girls rile me up so much, I swear..."

"Yeah, I know. Where are you going?"

"Practice rooms. You'll never believe it, but Esme invited me to some kind of emergency session."

It was true. I had been coming out of English, minding my own business, when all of a sudden my notebook was snatched out of my hand. I had whirled around to see the gorgeous but terrifying Esme, leaning casually on the wall leafing through the pages. I had immediately protested- that particular notebook contained poetry, quotes and diary entries of a personal nature- but was forced to stand there watching her go through my precious book for a few minutes more. After studying a few pages with interest, she finished and tossed it back to me.

"I heard you were into writing, so I though I'd have a little look-see," she had said, airily pushing her self off the wall and standing over me- not over me as such, for she was shorter than me, but her superior air made her seem taller somehow- with one hand on her hip. "I like what I see. I need you to come to the practice rooms at lunch today, ok?"

"O-ok," I had stammered, clutching my book tightly, confused.

She had smiled her dazzling smile at me, and for a moment I had forgotten that she was a big scary bully capable of anything, but when she abruptly turned on her heel and stalked down the hallway like she owned the place, I was left wondering what the hell had just happened.

Now, as surprise flitted across my friends' faces, I headed for the music block, not knowing what to expect.

Approaching the building, I heard the sounds of different instruments and the chattering of many voices. Peering through the window, discovered about a third of the senior band present, tuning their instruments and playing bits of songs, while a large group was clustered in front of the whiteboard. There's Nora- what does she have to do with music? And Helen, and Jo, and Kierra- it looks like half the Drama club's in there too. I peered closer, trying to make out what they were looking at. All I could see was a bunch of random lines and letters and a hand with a whiteboard marker drawing more on. They all seemed to be talking at the tops of their voices and laughing about nothing in particular, and I was loathe to go in with all those people, but I had been recruited by Esme herself. For some reason they needed me. So I took a deep breath, steeled myself, and opened the door.

The noise hit me like a tidal wave of sound, and I winced as the door shut behind me. If I was here because of my poetry, how was I supposed to write with this collection of guitar, violin, drums, flute, trumpet and voices yelling reverberating in my head?

Suddenly, the gaggle of girls- oops, no, i saw a boy or two in there too- the gaggle of people moved back from the board and spit in two, revealing Esme, pen in one hand, the other on her hip, looking smug and very please with herself. Behind her was what I now recognized as some kind of floor plan for the school hall.

"Ok, people!" she shouted, somehow getting over the wall of noise that everyone else was making. Immediately, instruments and voices alike ceased. "That's better." She smiled at everyone, and her gaze came to rest on me. "Good, poetry-girl's here. You haven't been to a meeting before, so I'll explain what's happening."

I nodded, frowning a little. Poetry-girl?

"As probably know, I'm planning the next big Costume Ball prank," she continued. "I've got the subject picked out and I've got the rough outline of the prank. Your job is to write us a song."

"A song?"

"Yes, a song."

I bit my lip, wondering how to get off of this. "I'm assuming that is song has to do with hu- i mean, pranking the subject?"

"Duh." Esme glanced at everyone else, smirking. "It's about the subject."

"And, um, who is the subject?"

"Who do you think? That ugly lump Quasimodo, of course."

My heart gave a great thump, but not with nervousness. This time, I was angry, but I struggled to control it. "What kind of song? I need more info."

"Look, just write the song, ok? Write about how ugly he is, what everyone thinks of him, that kind of thing."

I pursed my lips, resisting the urge to deck her. "I can't."

"What?" Everyone looked at me, surprised, while Esme narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean, you can't? It's just poetry. You can write poetry, I've seen it myself."

"I mean, I don't want anything to do with this. I don't want to help you humiliate Quasimodo." I started edging towards the door.

"Hey, come back here." Esme's eyes flashed, and her mouth twisted into a half smirk, half scowl. "What are you, in love with him or something?"

"No." I looked her straight in the eye. "I just refuse to be part of your bullying." And with that, I left, not waiting to see her reaction.

"Attention students: Will Michigan Greene please make her way to the office immediately. Michigan Greene, to the office immediately."

I looked up from copying the sums on the whiteboard into my notebook, surprised at the announcement. I looked at the teacher, who looked displeased but nodded at me as permission to leave. Shrugging, I got up and left the room, heading for the office.

As I walked, I wondered about what had happened in the practice room, wondering if what I had done would bring Esme's wrath upon me. I also wanted to warn Quasimodo not to go to the dance, but even if I could, I doubted he would listen to me. He was too far gone on that girl to believe anything bad about her. Still, I felt I had to try.

I came into view of the office, and pretty soon I was inside, waiting at the desk. The lady behind the computer looked up. "Can I help you?"

"I got called here."

"Are you Michigan?"

"Yes. Is there a problem?"

Her eyes widened, realizing that I thought something bad had happened. "Oh, no, nothing's wrong. I was told to give you a message from home. Apparently your mother isn't able to pick you up this afternoon, so you'll have to wait till 4:30 for your father to pick you up."

"Is that all?"

"Yes. At home time, you'll just have to come to the office and wait for your father here, ok?"

"Ok. Thank you." I nodded and smiled, then turned away and headed out, snorting to myself. Like hell I was going to wait for hours in that stuffy little office.

Looking around, I walked out the door and headed for the bench outside. It was the end of the day, and instead of going to the office, I was waiting near the unused side door, with a clear view of the road so I could see when Dad came. Watching students rush back and forth at the front of the school, waiting for their own rides, I opened my laptop and brought up my music folder, and pulled a book out of my bag. It was going to be a long wait.

An hour later...

Sighing, I put my book away and stretched, looking around. My gaze came to rest on... Quasimodo? Surprised, I wondered when he had appeared and whether he was waiting for his dad too.

Deciding to be friendly, I took out an earphone, waited for him to look over and waved him over, patting the space next to me. He looked unsure for a moment, as if he thought I didn't mean it, but eventually he decided to obey, and I shuffled over to make room for him.

"So, waiting for your dad?" I asked casually as he sat down, taking advantage of the fact that he wasn't looking at me to get another good look at him. I didn't know what fascinated me so much about him, but I wasn't ashamed of my curiosity.

"Yes."

"Me too. Do you wait here every day?"

"Yes."

I nodded and glanced at him, finding him absorbed in staring at the cracks in that ground. Struck with an idea, I went back to my laptop and started searching through folders, hoping I'd find what I was looking for.

Time passed in silence, until finally I hit upon the right folder. With a muffled 'yesss' and a fist pump, I tapped Quasimodo on the shoulder and held out the earphone. He studied it, confused for a second, then slowly took it and looked at me questioningly.

"Put it in your ear," I said, resisting the urge to laugh.

He did, and I highlighted the entire folder and clicked play. Music suddenly blared into our ears, and I watched his face as it changed expression from confused to amazed to happy. I was so absorbed in staring at him that when I snapped out of it, I found that I had been smiling along with him. I shook my head and leaned back, arms crossed, mouthing the words and watching Quasimodo as he enjoyed the music.

Ten songs later, a familiar car pulled up behind the fence, and I paused the music and shrugged at Quasimodo. "That's my ride."

He nodded and gave me back the earphone. I took a moment to pack everything up, then smiled at him before getting up and slinging my bag on my back. "See-ya"

I turned and climbed the fence, then waved and got in the car. Inside, Dad looked at Quasimodo, then at me. "Who's that?"

"Some kid in my class." I leaned back and sighed as Dad pulled out into the traffic.

"Not very good-looking, is he?"

"No." I turned peered back out the window, but we were already to far away. "No, not really. But you know what? I like him anyway."

He looked at me sharply, frowning a little. "Really?"

"Not like that, you big doofus." I shook my head at my father and his over-protectiveness. "He's just a friend, Dad."

"Good."

I smiled, eyes on the traffic. "So, how was work?"

You don't have to review this chapter if you don't want to. It is kinda boring. Hopefully the next one with be more interesting :)