In Our World

Chapter 12 - Bailey.

“You can never mistaken the sound of a grand piano,” I remember Tim saying once to no one in particular, but loud enough so that anyone who did listen could hear him. I lay in bed, wondering how true that statement was. I closed my eyes, knowing that the time was somewhere between two am and four.

My eyes opened again, as though I had heard a loud bang close by, and my legs began to drag me out of bed, and down the dark passage. Finally, I stopped outside the hobbies room, the door stood slightly ajar. I sat in the dark shadow that the door cast, and listened.

Again, a C major was played, and then a long silence. The C major was played again, and the silence afterwards was fulled with Tim sighing. The silence this time was longer.

A D minor played, and then a G minor sharp. I slipped in, as quietly as I could, and hoped that Tim hadn't noticed me. I got lucky, and he played a C major again. I slide down against the wall, and pulled my knees up to my chest, resting my head on my knees.

After a while, maybe 30 minutes?, Tim stood up with his head hung low, “You're pretty good.”

He jumped a little, but when he turned, he wore a sad smile, “I was better, once upon a time.”

“You can get back to being that good if you practice,” I smiled when I stood up.

“You don't get it, do you?” His voice was cold, and annoyed; as though he had said it hundred times, “I haven't a reason to play, I lost my reason – it's gone.”

“Find another-”

“I only learnt so that she would be proud of me,” His voice was slightly raised, but I could tell he was having trouble not shouting, “She's gone! She's not coming back.”

“Tim,” I kept my voice soft. I could tell that he was about to cry, and I stepped forward to comfort him.

“No,” He put his hand up and I stopped in my tracks, “Just leave me,” He walked out, and I heard his footsteps echo down the stairs.

I pulled my backpack onto my shoulder and walked out the door, as quietly as I could. My sneakers helped me a lot, although I wasn't quite sneaking, but I just wanted to get to school and get it over and done with.

There's nothing worse than being the new girl because everyone looks at you weirdly trying to decide if you've killed anyone before or not. What you wear on the first day, I had learnt, adds you to your clique. If you wear something done up, and then sack off the rest of the year, boy, did that cause you to be extremely judged.

I walked to the school, a twenty minute walk which was rather refreshing in the cool morning air. I had been shown the way just a few days ago, and I knew where every room in the school was. Now, the school looked almost haunted, the rising sun casting odd shadows in the court yard, and the just opened entrance doors stood only half open – looking as unwelcoming as possible.

The air inside the corridors was cool, with a warm hint, and every fourth light was on. There were one or two students there already, helping teachers, or going about their own business; but none of them, thankfully, paid any attention to me.

My black sneakers squeaked as I walked down the hall, and I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror of the trophy case on my way to the reception. My straight hair shined in the dim light of the hall way, and my black, plain shirt sat baggily on me; making me look clumsy.

“Hi,” I said as I walked into the reception, talking to the man behind the desk who had his back to me, “I'm new here, and I was wondering...” My sentence faded out when he turned around and faced me.

With a cheery smile, and a muffled laugh, he greeted me, “Hi Bailey,” James climbed off the chair, and placed the armful of papers on the desk, “How are you?”

I tried to speak, but my tongue refused to work. Eventually, a few awkward moments later, it found its place again, “Do you work here?” I looked around to see if there was anyone else around, “Why are you behind the desk?”

“I help out in the morning,” He grabbed a few papers, keyed something into the computer, and then came around to me, “Why do you look so shocked?”

“I was expecting a young, dedicated lady who was going to sign me in and give me my time table...” I stopped when I heard James laughing, “What?”

“Nothing,” He lead me out the office, and down the hallway, “You've got great expectations.”

I wasn't sure how to take this, so a give a nod and a small, “Oh.”

James lead the way onward, “You're in my class,” He spoke while scanning the paper that was in his hands, “We have mathematics, English, psychology and drama together,” He handed me the paper, “You have art, and gym on your own,” I studied the paper over.

I looked at the map on the back, and found the hall we were walking down, “You're doing drama?” I kept my voice casual.

“Is there something wrong with that?” When I looked at him, he wore a smirk, his brown hair looking lighter than usual in the light of the hall.

“No,” I shook my head, “Definitely not.”

“Here's your locker,” He stopped, and nodded his head towards a locker.

“Thanks,” I wasn't sure what it had sounded like, but for some reason I wasn't feeling like... me. I checked the paper, turned in the locker combination, and it swung open slowly. I wanted to put my backpack in it, but for some reason my body just wouldn't.

“It won't bite,” He said, a teasing smile lingered his lips.

I looked at him for a moment, then back at my locker. It was big, a lot bigger than I had expected. I shook the thoughts out my head, and slipped my backpack into my locker. There was still lots of space left, and I wondered if there was some stuff I still needed.

“I'll show you around,” He said, closing my locker and leading me down the hall. We walked into the gym, and I looked around and instantly felt small. The rafters ahead were probably four stories above us, and I couldn't imagine the large number of people the bleachers were made to hold.

James turn to me, and smiled at my horrified expression, “Big, right?”

“Huge,” I whispered, still trying to take in the size, “Enormous.”

I sat in my chair with my hands behind my head, my eyes scanning every face that walked in, and my brain memorizing where they took their seat. I watched some girls walk in in little groups, looking cheerful as they discussed whatever they had on their minds, and the odd few girls that came in on their own looked lost. The outfits that they wore said a lot about them, although I wondered what my ripped shorts and plain black tee said about me. The girls that wore skirts were more girly, those that wore shorts and over baggy shirts seemed more into outside sports.

Jess walked into the classroom and I let my arms drop. I knew he was a year older than me, and it surprised me to see him walk into our class. He looked around, his eyes scanning the room like it was familiar, and then he turned to the seats. Some of the girls squealed when they saw him looking at them, and others gave whispers while keeping their eyes on him. Our eyes met, and he smiled warmly.

“Bailey,” He breathed, making his way towards me, “I was wondering if I'd see you before school started.”

“Considering you're standing in my classroom,” I said, standing up and hugging him, “It's hard to believe that you wouldn't.”

He looked me up and down, “Just wanted to say good luck with your first day.”

“Thanks,” I pulled my shirt lower over my waist, feeling way to self conscious, “We'll see you at break, right?”

James gave him a nod as a greeting, and Jess's gaze met with mine again, “Yeah,” He stepped back, “Try not to let the math teacher scare you.”

He walked out, and I felt eyes on me as I took a seat again. I turned, when I felt a tap on my shoulder, and a girl with perfect skin and long blond hair stared at me, chewing gum and leaning over her desk. Too much cleavage showed.

“Are you guys dating?” She asked, her voice was like a radio announcer's, “Because if he's single, I want him.”

With an annoyed sigh, I turned back to the front and tried to ignore what kind of first impression I had made.