Play Another

I arrived super early for Chamber choir that morning. Maybe it was a good thing, but I was pretty annoyed at the time. It was 6:15, and Chamber started at 6:40. The doors to the looped hallway that included the band, choir, and orchestra rooms (a.k.a. the Music Department, or MD) were still locked. None of the five music teachers were there yet. I heaved a sigh and dropped my bag and coat on the floor against the wall.

“Those locked too?”

The voice came from down the hall, at the other MD doors, where a guy in black skinny jeans, white v-neck, and vest with a guitar case stood. I was actually at a loss for a second because of how attractive he was. I had seen (and stared at) him before, around the halls and whatnot, but I hadn’t really gotten a chance to look at him.

“Uh, yeah. Brown should be here soon, though.”

He nodded and set his stuff down like I had, opening the guitar case. My heart fluttered even more – I’m a sucker for any kind of musician. He sat against the brick wall with his guitar and started tuning. I pretended to be fiddling with something on my cell phone, but in reality I was listening for him to start playing.

He did soon enough, easily hitting a few chords before going into fretwork. He seriously played really well – his tone was pure and pitch was always right on. He probably could have taught the guitar classes that Mr. Zeck held. No one had come to unlock the door yet, so I figured there was no harm…

I went over, keeping my footsteps silent for no particular reason. He stopped playing and looked up at me with this cute half-smile on his face as I leaned on the lockers on the opposite side of the hallway.

“Mind if I listen?”

“Not at all,” he said, the smile widening. He started playing again, and this time it was a song I knew. It was hard to believe he knew it; the calm melody was by a band that had disbanded years ago, one that I had grown up on called Soul Coughing. I hardly met anyone who knew who they were. It was even one of my favorite songs of theirs.

I waited for the cue, then instead of telling him outright that I knew the song, I started singing.

“Normalize the signal when you’re bangin on Freon,” I sang, quietly at first. His head snapped up with an incredulous look on his face. “No way,” he said while still playing. I nodded, singing again as the second line came up. “Paleolithic eon…put the fake goatee on…and it booms as cool as…Sugar Free Jazz.”

After strumming the last note, he looked over at me again. “Nuh uh. How do you know that song?”

“I’ve been listening to Soul Coughing and Mike Doughty since I was like, 8. My dad listened to them all the time. Actually, El Oso was the first CD I ever bought.” I clamped my mouth shut, realizing I was ranting.

“My parents showed them to me too. Here, what about this one?” He started playing another song, a Mike Doughty one this time.

“I know this one,” I said with a small laugh. “Tremendous Brunettes.” I wasn’t aware that I was running a hand through my (brunette) hair until I said it.

“Thought it was appropriate,” he replied, shrugging. That smile was still on his face, and I never wanted it to go away. “I’m Jeremy.”

“Alex.”

He shoved his stuff over, making room for another person to sit beside him. “You seem really far away,” he said, his eyes doing all the inviting I needed. I moved across the hall to sit next to him, my back against the wall and arms propped on my knees.

He started one more song, and this one I recognized too, even though it wasn’t Mike Doughty or Soul Coughing. I didn’t know if there was a reason he picked this one, or if he was just playing random songs. I sat up a little straighter and started to sing once more.

“Here’s another pity, and there’s another chance
Try to learn a lesson, but you can’t.
We can burn a city in futures and in past
Without a change, our lives will never last
We’re goin fast

You can sit beside me when the world comes down
If it doesn’t matter, then just turn around.
We don’t need our bags and we can just leave town
You can sit beside me when the world comes down.”

A door slamming cut me off. Jeremy stopped playing abruptly, probably just as startled as I was.

“Little early today, Alex?” Mr. Brown, my choir director, asked.

“Uh, yeah. A little bit.”

He unlocked both sets of MD doors and went in. Jeremy looked over at me hopefully. I couldn’t look away.

“Play another.”