Explosive

21 || Another Fight

After leaving Mrs. Gupta's office my phone buzzes. It's a text from Cynthia, instructing me to meet her in the music room at lunch. Apparently, Blake had spent the weekend figuring out the lyrics for the song we were going to sing for the English assignment. The first two periods go by in a blur and lunch comes too quick.

In the music room, Cynthia is chatting with a short and thin man wearing all black. When she sees me, she rolls her eyes but moves towards me. Her skirt rises up and she pulls it down quickly, scanning the room with her eyes narrowed. The wall directly across the door is covered with a beautiful mural, showing a group of students playing different instruments.

Chairs are scattered across the large room and the ceiling is high, unlike the other rooms in the building. The remainder of the walls are plastered with posters of famous musicians and quotes. "Hey, Audrey. This is Mr. Lee," Cynthia says, gesturing to the thin man and breaking me from my spell.

"It's nice to meet to you," he says.

"He's letting us use his piano for our presentation," Cynthia adds. "Which is super cool of him."

Mr. Lee rolls his eyes slightly and flicks his hand. "Stop. You're making me blush." After that he steps out, grumbling something about having a meeting and telling us to watch the instruments. Cynthia and I sit awkwardly on opposite sides of the room. She is on her phone and is choosing to ignore me. Which is something I am totally cool with.

Blake finally walks into the room, his gym bag slung over his shoulder and his mouth in a scowl. Cynthia groans when she sees him. "What's your problem, Blake?" After dumping his bag on the floor, he goes to the back of the room and pulls out a guitar from a small room.

"It's okay. Don't worry about it," he mumbles. He gives me a nod before taking the guitar out of its case and sitting on one of the tables at the front.

Cynthia snorts but joins him at the front. "You know we have to finish this project, right? Unlike you, some people actually have to keep up their averages." Blake gives her a look but remains quiet as he fiddles with the pegs on the guitar. From the looks of it, Blake and Cynthia had made up after last week's fiasco.

"It's due soon," I add, sitting in front of the piano and playing a C minor. It has been a few months since I last played the piano. Sitting before one reminds me of my neighbor and piano teacher, Agatha. I miss her so much that I want to take the next bus out to visit her.

"You should just come to the gym with us on the weekends," Cynthia says. I turn but realize that she is looking at Blake.

"Can't do that." Blake strums the guitar before returning it to its case. "I work on the weekends and I can't afford a Goodlife membership. Working out at school is cheaper." He pulls a notebook out from his backpack and sits beside me, facing away from the piano.

"Did you figure out the lyrics?" Cynthia asks, coming to stand in front of Blake.

He nods and shows them to us. "Some of it." They're great and are surprisingly accurate, despite him not reading the whole book.

"This is awesome," I say in awe.

"Damn, these are good. You made such a crappy book seem cool." Cynthia laughs.

He keeps his head down but I can tell that he is happy that we like what he has written. "I tried figuring out a tune last night. I'm not sure how I feel about it, though." Blake picks up the guitar again and returns to sit beside me. After adjusting a tuner for a final time, he strums a calm and slow melody. Blake starts singing the first lyric softly but pauses to clear his throat. Both Cynthia and I fall silent as he sings the song. His voice is so raw and beautiful.