Melodies

Orchestra is the last class of the day, B days. It's what comes after Trig, English ,Government, and then the pointless half hour of 'enrichment.' It's what comes after a bunch of work in subjects I don't really care about. It's what keeps me coming to school and saves me from going crazy.

There's just something about the way the bow moves as it glides across the strings of my violin. The vibrato sings in my ears as my fingers place the notes, and it makes me happy. Music, this music, specifically, is where I go at the end of the school day to get my mind off stupid things and actually focus for once.

When I walk in today, Mr. Kitching is fussing over some papers at the head stand in the front of the room, where he teaches/conducts. He look up at me as I set my bag down at my seat, third chair second violin. "Sydney, just a quick reminder, chamber has been cancelled for tomorrow morning."

"Cool." I doubt he was listening for a response anyway.

Truthfully, it's not cool. I'm disappointed. I like chamber rehearsals, for many reasons. 1) it's a smaller group. That means we get more individual attention. 2) You have to be asked by Mr. Kitching or Mr. Simpson (who teaches orchestra at the middle school and helps with us) to get in, so the people in chamber are way more focused. They're the ones who didn't just sign up so they could sit in the back and talk through the whole class. 3) Kell Anderson.

There's about five violas in our orchestra, if I'm thinking correctly. Kell plays first chair, and he's the only one in chamber. I've seen him many times play at our performances looking completely sick and tired and miserable, because without him, we're missing an entire section.
As a violist, he is, of course, amazing. I've heard him talking to Mr. Simpson about it before, how much time he puts into his playing. He takes private lessons and practices every day and plays in the youth symphony orchestra downtown and volunteers and whatnot. That takes dedication. Mr. Kitching is lucky if I practice more than twice a week, excluding the 20 minute lesson I have after school each Wednesday.
As a person, he still seems pretty amazing. All I see him do is work. Homework, instrumental work, working desperately to do a push-up in gym, etc. He looks tired every time I look at him, and yet, he pulls together the energy to do all that he does. Aside from how much work he does though, I don't really have a fair judgement of him. I've talked to him a few times before, we've sat together at lunch because Courtney (a mutual friend) didn't want to have to choose between us. He seems nice enough, just kinda quiet. I get the impression he's funny in a sarcastic way, nice in an 'only polite' way unless he actually knows you, and smart in every way. But I have nothing to back any of that up.

He walks in as I begin to unpack, having left my violin by the classroom door this morning. I watch him (trying to be discreet about it) as he goes to the back of the room and gets his case out of his locker and leaves his backpack by the rows of band instruments they have out.

I tune quickly, not really caring if it's perfect. Good enough is perfect to me, always. By the time I've passed the tuner on to someone else, he's already tuned and is in the middle of his warm-ups. I mean, his personal warm-ups. We usually do a few scales and maybe a dynamics exercise as a class before getting into the pieces we're working on. He has a set of warm-ups I'm guessing he and his private instructor developed. It looks like it's a bunch of string-changing exercises, some shifting, and some 3 octave scales to finish up the shifting.

I look away after a minute as more people flood in, not wanting to be caught staring. The bell rings soon, and the last of the class arrive quickly at the door. I see Ashton, one of my friends, through the doorway, walking slowly and completely comfortably to the staircase. He's like that when he's going to class, because he doesn't care what happens.

Sometimes I get that, and sometimes I try not to. It's like, on one hand, you're supposed to care! You're supposed to follow the rules and fear authority. But on the other, who cares if you get written up for being late? Even if you get 12 and have to serve a detention, or go to AP (Alternative Placement) for a few days or whatever, it's not the end of the world.

Shaking my thoughts away when Mr. Kitching claps his hands, I glance over at Kell again, hoping to go unnoticed.

But he's looking straight back at me.