An Endless Serenade

Chapter Eight

"I have to take a vocab quiz for Kyle," he said with a grimace. "I suck at vocab, but at least he makes it easy. Multiple choice and all that."

It took me a second to realize Oliver was talking about Mr. Tucker. Was I the only one who didn't call him by his name? "That sounds... fun."

"Do you want to come with me?" he inquired, his eyes pleading. "It'll only take a few seconds, I swear."

My heart fluttered, but I forced the feeling back. Mr. Tucker was a teacher and only a teacher. Besides, I had more important matters to attend to. "I would, but..." My eyes shifted down the hallway. "I'm going to see who's here. If you know what I mean."

Understanding crossed Oliver's face immediately. "Ah, I see. No problem. I wish I could help."

"No, no, it's fine. Go get an A on that quiz."

"I'll try my best."

"And Oliver?"

"Hmm?"

"To fail means to be unable to meet the standards set by a test."

He smirked at me. "Thanks for that. Really helps me."

"No problem," I responded with a smirk of my own.

Waving once, he turned his back on me and headed up to the third floor. I shrugged my backpack over my shoulder and headed in the opposite direction, ready to start my hunt for my harasser. Well, it wasn't harassment yet, technically, but close enough. This morning I'd received a ride from Paul, so I was thirty minutes early, meaning hardly anyone was around, including most teachers. Paul liked to be the early bird. I figured finding the one person who'd delivered the notes would be easy, but the halls were like ghost towns. The lights weren't even on in half of them.

I trudged my way to the piano wing, figuring this would be the only other place the culprit would escape to. Unfortunately, all the piano rooms were locked, except the main room, where Paul was sitting, correcting some quizzes we'd taken last week on music theory... which I was sure I failed. Just before I could close the door, he glanced up at me, green eyes curious. "Something wrong?"

"Ah, no... just bored," I lied. Well, semi-lied. Walking around by myself was a little boring.

"Want to come in?" he offered, waving me over. "I wouldn't mind a little company."

Slipping in, I shut the door behind me, and ambled over to his desk, taking a seat on the edge of it. "What do you do all day, Paul?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you only have one class, two every other day. That leaves the first part of the day free. So what do you do?"

He frowned at me. "I work, of course."

"Work how?" I questioned, not sure how to make my query more specific.

"On writing music and practicing. You know, for my own performances and stuff. Not all my day is dedicated to you guys. Remember, this isn't a real job. I'm a substitute. I get paid like one too..."

I pursed my lips at him. "You're already rich, Paul."

Laughing, he nodded. "Right. I'm just saying."

"This school is so messed up," I sighed.

"Money is a powerful thing, Allie."