The screams of an alarm echoed through the Olives' room, and the soft blurs of sleep were instantly taken away.
She groaned, all that she wanted right now was her bed, it was warm and cozy unlike the rest of the room. She had to get up though, she was starting her first day in eighth grade, so she had to leave her beloved bed and get dressed.
She put on a nice pair of pants and a casual pink blouse. She brushed her blonde, tangled hair until it was nice and smooth.
She ran downstairs, ate a quick breakfast, grabbed her backpack and trumpet and headed to the bus stop.
As soon as she stepped outside, she was hit with the humid air and dark, gray clouds, which promised rain. Olive didn't mind(a little rain might actually be nice), and started to walk down the street where some nervous sixth graders were anxious talking. She recalled the first time she had gone to the bus stop, and how nervous she was. But Olive was more quiet and reserved then most, so she didn't even speak, in fact, she was so quiet that it took two months into the school year to even make some real friends, which were ironically rowdy and wild.
But she still loved them nevertheless.
Olive reached the bus stop and patiently waited for the bus to arrive, while somewhat listening to the sixth graders conversation. It was a little amusing, they were talking about their fears of how they would get to their lockers on time and how to not be late for classes. Regular sixth grader stuff.
Suddenly, the rolling engine of the bus sounded just down the road and the sixth and one seventh grader alike got their stuff and looked down the street to the yellow and black bus. It rolled up to the stop and opened the doors, and they started to board.
The bus wasn't crammed, it never was on the first day, but still had quite an amount of people. She sat down somewhere in the middle and look outside as the bus started to move again.
Olive could feel a small butterfly in her stomach, it was going to be weird to be the oldest type of student in the school, and having to always be the demonstration for others. But she was always sort of a demonstration, she was calm and wise, assertive and quiet, always a smart cookie. Her standards were incredibly high, and she met them, so she was always pointed out by teachers and just adults altogether. The only teacher she would have that she already knew was her band director, Mr. Grazer.
'I wonder how he's doing.'
Before her eyes, they were already there at school. The bus driver opened the door and kids started to pour out. She got up and got out the bus to be hit with the same humid air.
Kids were standing outside(most were eighth graders), and some were going inside. She had to drop off her trumpet, so she opened the glass doors and followed some kids into the building.
Once in the building, she pushed passed the dumbfounded sixth graders and headed toward the stairs, climbed up them, and had to push pass more people. It was tempting to totally just shove for most people, but Olive was patient, she kept an open mind.
She finally reached a fairly familiar wooden door with a glass window, and on the top of the door there was a sign that said;
BAND
Olive opened the door, and stepped inside.
It was just as she remembered it. Shiny floors, gleaming trophies and the welcoming scent of brass spread throughout the room, making Olive feel right at home. She started to head into the locker room, when suddenly there was a small tap on her shoulder.
She recognized it immediately.
Olive turned to see tanned skin, slick black hair, and a clean stubble.
"Olive." He made his signature sly grin at her.
"Mr. Grazer." She smiled politely.
"What have you been up to lately?"
"Nothing much."
He chuckled at her.
"See you fourth period."
"See you then."
He turned around and walked back into his office. She continued to the locker room to put away her trumpet.
The locker room had small, dark blue lockers. There were some for smaller instruments like flute and oboe, and some for larger ones like baritone and tuba. She had a trumpet, so she went into the middle, where the middle sized lockers were. She opened hers and locked her trumpet up, then exited the locker room.
She made her way out, and had a small peak into the office before she left. She saw Mr. Grazer speaking quietly with the assistant band director, something about being short on beginner baritones.
Mr. Grazer was a fun band director to have. He was proud and sly, yet gentle at the same time. Not gentle like her, he was only gentle when he needed to be, unlike Olive. But he was young, and a free spirit.
Olive turned away and headed out of the band hall.
She was immediately confronted with a familiar face.
"Hey!"
"Evie!" Olive was met with pale skin and long, light brown hair, pink braces and a string from pink headphones.
"I knew I'd find you here!" She smiled brightly, showing off her shiny braces. Evie was a "emo" kid, she loved Panic! At the Disco and Fall Out Boy. She was obsessed with the emo style and adored eyeliner. A typical teen.
"Hey, everyone's meeting up in the library, wanna go?"
"Sure. Let's go."
