Unbearably Broken

Chapter One: Three Years Later

 I sat in class as I tried to decipher the math equation in front of me. Math had never been my strong suit. So I just sat there, my pencil drawing doodles on my paper as I waited for the bell to ring.

Then I could escape to Band. It was my favorite class.

When I was five the school's marching band - which was the best in the state by the way - walked by me. I remembered tugging on my dad's shirt and asking him who they were. He said the Littlewood Marching Generals. They were decked out in their blue and white uniforms, marching in perfect unison. I then pointed to them and told him that I was going to be one. A decayed later I had my very first halftime show. It was the best day of my life.

The bell finally rang. I sighed and rushed out, avoiding all the people who were saying goodbye to me.

The band at my school was more popular than the football team. Therefore everyone knew, and liked, the band kids. Along with that, I was very well known.

It wasn't that I was supermodel pretty - that was my older sister. I was more cute, in a way. I had long brown hair. Three piercings were in my ears. I was a good five foot seven and I had piercing green eyes which were by far the best thing about me.

But most people knew me for my personality.

When I was in fifth grade I met a girl named Skyler. She was an outgoing and sarcastic person who helped me become, well, me. Now everyone now knew me as the funny, smart girl who'd tell you whatever she thought without a second thought.

A smile filled my face as I stepped into the band room. A good one-fourth of the school's band kids were in the highest band. Two-fourths were in the middle band and a fourth was in the lowest.

My first year I was in the lowest band but I worked hard and by my sophomore year, I had a spot in the middle band. This year I was awarded a spot in the highest band. It took hard work and determination to get here and I haven't stopped working.

This band was where I had met the boy who was now rushing through the row of stands to get to me.

Noah Mason.

Noah was a senior trombone player. It's a known theory that people tend to pick instruments that look like them - I'm tall and skinny, and I play the flute. And he fit that theory.

Noah was a tall and lanky guy who had dirty blond hair. He always wore a goofy smile that matched his brown, puppy dog eyes. He was adorable. Many girls secretly liked him but he was a shy guy so the girls would stay away.

We met freshman year and after that, he'd always go a little bit out of his way to come to talk to me and, weirdly enough, high-five me. I half liked him but was positive that he'd never like me back.

Braydon was the first guy I liked and he was a popular guy with stunning blue eyes and brown hair. He always had a girl hanging on him and was on the basketball team.

I was glad that they weren't the same in any way.

"Hey," Noah said once he reached me. That same goofy smile hit his face. I smiled back and walked to my flute locker. Squatting down to the lowest line of lockers, I fumbled with the lock.

"Hey," I responded as I pulled out my flute and music.

Noah leaned against the locker. I looked up at him, noticing his posture. It wasn't confident like how most guys normally act when they stand like that. It was just him leaning against the locker.

"Did you get the song memorized?" he asked, his eyebrows bunching in embarrassment.

Another thing about our marching band is that we had this thing called alternates. If all your music wasn't memorized or we didn't come to practice, we were booted right out of the halftime show.