Our Song

Chapter 1

I look at my watch, five minutes, that's all I have. I start running up the stairs, my jacket still on, my backpack hanging from one of my shoulders. I start to regret my decision to wear this combat boots today, they're heavy as hell and don't help me go any faster. When I make it to the fourth floor I have to stop to catch my breath, damn, I'm so out of shape, I take a mental note to start working out again. I glance at my watch, three minutes, better hurry, I can't be late.

I walk/run down the hall and turn to the right ...

"Watch ou-" I start to say but it's too late, he slams straight into me sending all my music sheets flying across the floor.

"I'm sorry, I didn't –" he starts to apologize looking up from his phone.

"You idiot!" I yell at him as I drop my backpack to the floor and get down to gather my sheets, "I don't know why people have to text and walk at the same time."

"I said I was sorry," he says as he bends down to help me. I notice a thick accent, British no doubt.

I get up and start ordering my music sheets, now I'm definitely late, thanks to this ... this idiot.

"Here," he says handing me two more sheets, I yank them angrily from him, re-ordering everything again as I begin walking down the hall.

"Miss, you might want this too!" he says as I turn around and notice he's holding my backpack. He comes closer and I look up at his face for the first time finding a green pair of eyes staring down at me. I stop for a second feeling a shiver go down my spine as they remind me so much of ... his eyes.

"Thanks," I tell him as I grab my bag and put it on my shoulder rolling my eyes at his stupid cheeky smile. I turn on my heels and start running down the hall, those green eyes still fresh on my mind.

+++

As I come in the room I see the professor sitting next to the piano looking at some music sheets, his messy ginger hair peeking above the papers. He puts the sheets down and looks at me as I come closer. He's wearing one of his usual plaid shirts, the sleeves are rolled up showing some of the tattoos he has on both arms. He's young, much younger than any other professor I've had here, but apparently he's some sort of musical writing genius and got admitted to the London School of Music when he was only 16 years old. This is his first semester teaching at Berklee but rumor has it that he has already written and produced numerous songs for various famous artists. He looks as if he's just another college student and I think that's why he's so strict, otherwise no one will take him seriously.

"Miss Rodriguez," he says taking a look at his watch then looking at me, "You're late."

"I know, but I can explain," I say looking at him with pleading eyes. I already know I'm screwed, but I have to at least try.

"I've been very clear about my rules," he says crossing his arms in front of his chest, I can't help but stare at the colorful designs inked on his arms, "You should know by now that tardiness is unacceptable."

"But, it wasn't my fault, I was running down the hall and this guy-" I try to explain but I get cut off.

"If you were running down the hall, that means you were already late," he says arching one of his eyebrows.

"I was going to make it on time, I swear, but this ... stupid guy ... he was texting and he didn't see me and my sheets went flying across the floor and ..." I act the whole thing out as I'm telling him the story but he just sits there staring at me with a blank face and I sigh defeated.

"Your story is quite amusing, but rules are rules. I don't make exceptions."

I stare at him in silence, this is it, I'm going to lose my scholarship. I might as well say goodbye to my degree right now, there's no way I can afford tuition on my own, I already have my share of student loans and my mom, well, she already helps me enough. I feel my eyes sting and I hold back the tears, I've worked so hard for this, it's not fair. He can't do this to me.

"This is so unfair," I tell him, my voice cracking at the end.

Don't cry in front of him, you're stronger than that.

"Life isn't fair, Miss Rodriguez," he says as he grabs back the music sheets he had been reading before. I hate him, I swear I hate him as much as I hate that guy on the hall with the haunting green eyes.

"Yeah, believe me, I know," I say as I turn around and walk towards the door. What does he even know about life not being fair, he's 24 and he's a College professor with a successful songwriting career and he's telling me that life's not fair? Who the hell does he think he is? I was raised in a shitty neighborhood in Brooklyn by a single mother who had to work her ass off to support me, I know very well how unfair life can be.

I step out of the room and lean against the wall. I let the tears fall down now as I slide down and sit on the floor. This is my third year here and I've worked so hard to keep my grades up so I won't lose my scholarship. I spent long hours on this songwriting assignment and it was the midterm grade, now there's no way I'll pass this class now. I must figure out something, music is my life and I haven't come this far busting my ass for nothing. I refuse to give up just because some professor won't give me the chance, I've been a fighter all my life and I'm not stopping now. I wipe the tears from my eyes and get up, I just want to go home now and think this through. As I start walking down the hall I hear someone talking at a distance.

"No, mum I'm alright, everything's fine, I just miss you."

I immediately recognize the thick accent. I feel anger starting to build inside me, I want to run up to him and ... and punch him or something.

I hear his voice getting louder as I come closer. As I turn left at the end of the hall I see him. He's sitting on the floor talking on the phone smiling, his long legs bent in front of him, I notice he's wearing pointy swede boots, who the hell wears that? I keep walking and when I'm in front of him, I toss my music sheets at him angrily.

"Thanks for nothing," I spit out as he looks up at me confused. I just turn and keep walking towards the stairs.

"Mum, I'll call you right back, love you," I hear him say quickly as I hear the sound of his boots stumping behind me, I walk faster so he won't catch up to me.

"Hey! Wait!"

I stop at the top of the staircase and hold up my hand.

"Please stop following me," I say angrily without even turning around. I can tell he stops because I can't hear the sound of his footsteps anymore.

"Don't you want these?"

"Keep them, I don't thin k I'll be needing them anymore." With that I start to walk down the stairs without looking back.