The Other Twin

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

*Chorus Cries*

For the fifth time in the span of three minutes I considered ditching chorus.

That way I could go find Gavin and strangle him.

The hallways were quickly emptying around me since it was the last period of the day and everyone was heading home or going off to their respective clubs. I wanted nothing more then to join them in bolting out of school. But instead here I am, hovering outside the music room like a creep, about to spend the next forty five minutes in misery.

Okay, so not misery per se, but something close to it.

I hadn't even planned on coming today since I had assumed that I would have dropped the class by now. Of course I hadn't considered the prospect of dark haired saxophone players who randomly proposed deals.

I was in the process of mentally debating whether he would find out if I cut class when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

"And what are you doing here?" A voice asked behind me with a patronizing tone.

I swiveled my head to face a pair of green eyes matched with a wide smile beaming at me with amusement. I attempted to school my features in an indifferent mask but failed miserably as my lips formed into a faint smile. Darn his infectious smile.

"Same reason you're here, to... sing." I spat out distastefully. Preston nodded, his eyes glittering with amusement.

"I thought you swore to never come back to chorus." He reminded.

"That was the plan." I replied, reflecting back to my previous plans. Again, Gavin really messed things up here for me.

"But now you got a deal going on." He finished with a knowing smile. I nod absentmindedly, "Yeah-hey!" I pointed at him accusingly. "How'd you know about the deal?"

Preston gave me a close lipped smirk, "I have my ways."

"You aren't going to tell me are you?" I guessed.

"Nope." He answered with a smirk. I huffed out in annoyance. What is it with guys and smirking?

"So when are we going to stop standing out here feeling stupid?" Preston finally asked, nodding his head toward the door. Ah, he noticed that. I considered making a run for it before quickly dismissing the thought. I had to have some dignity.

"Let's get this over with." I grumbled as I followed him inside. The sudden tri-pitched melody of the school bell rang as we entered, signaling the beginning of the period.

"Just narrowly missed the late bell." Ms. Cazanave stated with a grin as she looked up from the attendance. "Don't cut it so close next time." She warned playfully with one hand resting on the swell of her stomach, while we nodded meekly and hurried to our seats. I quickly made my way to the left side where the altos were located. Unlike normal classrooms, the music room consisted of only a ring of black seats and three pianos. Our seating is split up according to our sections based on our voices.

But of course, this is high school so there's always something greater beneath the surface. If you're in chorus, because you actually like it and want to pursue it in the future, soprano is where you belong-the section that has the highest of the four standard singing voices. I'm talking about ear popping high. Then there's the rest of us, who lack the ability to break glass with our voices and honestly, are in the class for the credits.

We're the altos, to be technical, the ones with voice parts below the highest range, but still above the tenors. Which are the guys.

Not that I'm complaining, it became evident that I couldn't sing a high note during the test the minute I produced a sound that bore a resemblance to a cat going into labor. So I got stuck in altos. I finally trudged into my seat, dropping my bags with a thud before I sat. Over in baritone, Preston noticed my gloomy expression.