Musically Inclined

"Leigh! Get up! Leigh, you're going to be late! Leigh, get up!" My mother's irritated voice pierced my peaceful slumber. The whole world seemed to be shaking as my mother roughly shook me awake. I groaned angrily, which only increased her frustration with me.

"Really, Leigh? You're not a child anymore, so stop acting like one. Breakfast is ready downstairs when you decide to get up, but your bus will be here in half an hour," she said as she walked away from my bed and left my room. When I rolled over, I discovered that she didn't close the door, which was a giant pet peeve of mine. I groaned loudly in exhaustion and rolled again to the opposite side of my bed.

When I saw the digital clock on the nightstand next to my bed, I groaned once again and painstakingly sat up. Obviously, I wasn't eager to be awake before nine, but was running late enough already. As I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, I scratched my head and grumbled in frustration as I felt the massive bed head that had occurred overnight.

"Really, Leigh? It's your first day at this new school, and you're going to have a bad hair day; great, just perfect," I told myself and cleared my throat. I swear, I could have won an award in a competition for "Most Unattractive Person in the Morning."

Looking at myself in the mirror built into my bureau, I wanted to kick myself for not putting my hair into a ponytail the night before, after I had washed it. "Really, Leigh? You're such a genius," I grumbled to myself once more, wincing when the hairbrush fought its way through my thick and tangled mane.

When I finally decided my hair was presentable, only twenty minutes were left until my bus arrived. Thankful that I at least had enough sense to lay out my outfit the night before, I grabbed the long tank top and studded jean vest from the top of my dresser. It was a cute top combination, giving the illusion that I had some sort of fashion sense.

I threw my embarrassing puppy-printed pajama bottoms across the room, deciding to deal with my dirty clothes when I got home; I was a little short on time. I knew that if my mom got a close enough look at my outfit, she would probably make me change out of the leggings, saying that they only belonged under skirts, even though the outfit did not technically go against school dress code.

"You look hot," I said aloud to myself, turning to look at my butt in the full-length mirror that hung next to my door.

"What are you doing?" My brother attempted to keep from cracking up. He happened to be walking by my room and opened door at the worst time. His face turned red from holding in his laugh before he finally let it release. "Are you...are you checking yourself out?"

"N-no. No! I'm not!" Curse my mother for not closing my door. Could she not respect my privacy for once?

"You are! Dude, Riley, Leigh was just checking herself out," My annoying sibling, Ryan, called out to his best friend, who had apparently spent the night again; it was almost as if he lived here. When I heard Riley's booming laugh coming from my brother's room across the hall, my whole face flushed as I slammed the door in an attempt to save some of my dignity.

"Leigh! You know we do not slam doors in this house!" My mother chastised from down stairs. "Do it again, and you'll be grounded for the next week!"

Really, Mom? Could you not side with me for once? I was trying to save my pride! Stupid Ryan, stupid Mom, stupid Riley; ugh, stupid door for not being closed.

I proceeded to put on my black tennis shoes and walked over to my dresser again. My silver flute necklace charm and chain called out to me, begging to be worn, which was a daily thing for me; the flute was my passion, and any flute paraphernalia had to be owned by me. My mother always joked that I was going to become a hoarder of anything flute-related.

I sighed, sad that it was the first day of school again, yet excited to begin my first year at the new arts institute, and checked the time on my digital clock once more. My jaw locked and I ground my teeth in frustration when I saw that time was fast escaping me, and that the school bus would be picking me up soon.

As I slowly trudged down the stairs to my waiting breakfast, I happened to pass my older brother's closed bedroom door. I knew that he was probably in there with Riley. Briefly, I considered barging in on them, but then realized they were probably in the process of changing. Shuddering, I continued my route to the kitchen, my stomach growling all the way.

Shush, I internally whispered to my stomach; I am about to feed you, I told myself as I jumped the last step and stauntered past the living room and into the kitchen. The smell of cinnamon rolls and biscuits wafted toward my nose, causing my stomach to growl even louder.

"Wow, did your midnight snack not appease you?" Riley snickered from the counter, where he was pouring himself a tall glass of orange juice. My irritating brother was absent, meaning his best friend would have to take his place in being the most obnoxious moron in the room.

"Wow, do you ever sleep in your own house?" I angrily replied, mocking his tone of voice.

"Leigh, be nice!" My mother chastised me as she walked into the kitchen, apparently not hearing what Riley had told me. "I apologize for her rudeness, Riley. Lord knows that I didn't raise her to act this way! Help yourself to our food; you're always welcome in our home."

I rolled my eyes when my mother glared at me, but said nothing as I walked over to the kitchen island and grabbed a plate, stacking a few pancakes and cinnamon buns upon my platter. As the smell wafted up my nose, I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, unintentionally moaning aloud. Quickly realizing my mistake, my eyes snapped to Riley, looking for any indications of him hearing my embarrassing noise.

When he gave none, my eyes cut back to my food, and I proceeded to inhale my breakfast. When the familiar sound of a school bus honking out front was heard, I jumped in surprise and left my plate sitting on the table, much to my mother's distaste. I swung my school bag and instrument case over my shoulder with one arm as my opposite hand was in my mouth, sucking off the sticky delightful remains from my food.

"Leigh!" My mother squawked after me. "Take your hands out of your mouth! That is disgusting and- "

I cut off my mother by slamming the front door as I ran to my waiting bus. It was clearly not new, as the paint was faded and the nose sharper than the new models of school buses. Apparently, even if the state opened a new school for the arts, that doesn't mean that we get new buses.

Or better smelling ones, I thought as I sat in one of the empty middle seats. The bus driver looked to be as old as the bus, which appeared pretty old. She wore a standard blue uniform and had her clearly-thinning hair pulled away from her face in a low-sitting ponytail. Her nametag read 'R. Hudson.'

Looking around me, I noticed the bus was fairly empty, the head count totalling fourteen, including both myself and the driver. I recognized a few kids from the regular public school we attended last year, but none of them were participating in the band program. My brother was lucky that Riley got his license over the summer and could drive them to school every morning. They, at least, could avoid smelly and long bus rides.

Yes, but you don't have to deal with either of them at all during the school day, I reminded myself. That thought was the prevalent shining beacon for the rest of the ride to school.