Nina's POV
I went back to the park today, although instead of a book, I brought my flute. It's rusty and slightly dented, but I love it all the same. I bring it to Central Park when I don't feel like reading. Percy gave it to me one year for Christmas. It was the best Christmas present I ever received. I practice almost everyday too. One day, if I ever get enough money, I'm going to take private lessons. I already play in my school's band.
When I arrived at the park, my bench was empty. I looked around, hoping to find Morgan, but he was no where to be seen. I felt a little upset. He had promised me, but he was also older. Older kids normally don't like hanging around younger ones, so I guess I could understand. I flopped myself down on my bench and started unpacking my flute. I might as well practice since Mom's at work, and I really don't want to go home to Gabe.
I brought my flute up and started playing Ode to Joy, a song I learned for the school's holiday concert. It was very simple and short, but I wasn't that good at playing the flute yet. I went through all the songs we had played for the winter concert, and started going through the ones we would be playing for the spring concert coming up in May. The songs for the spring concert didn't sound very good, but I still have two months to learn them.
As soon as I finished Yankee Doodle, I someone next to me started clapping. I jumped and looked up to see Morgan standing next to the bench. He was dressed in baggy jeans and a Jethro Tull tee-shirt with an unzipped brown hoodie. And he had a guitar strapped to his back!
"Not to shabby there, Sparkles," he grinned, reaching down to ruffle my hair. I gently laid my flute across its case before pouting up at Morgan and trying to fix my hair.
"Hi Morgan, and thanks," I said. Then, what he'd called me hit. "Why'd you just call me Sparkles?" I was very pleased to see his face heat up with a light blush, but Morgan just shrugged it off and ran his fingers through his floppy hair.
"Thought it might suit you," he said with a wry grin. "You seem like you like Sparkles." His face suddenly turned worried. "Do you not like it? I can totally not call you that if you don't want me to. I just thought if we're going to be friends you might want a nickname." He was rambling, and he seemed to notice because he cut himself off just as quickly as he started. "Sorry," he grimaced. "I don't have a lot of people to talk to besides my sister."
"I don't mind, and what about school? Do people talk to you there?" I asked suspiciously. He couldn't be much older than fourteen or fifteen right?
"My peers and I don't exactly get along," Morgan sighed. He ran his hand through his hair. That must have been a habit of his. "But do we really need to talk about my social life?" He sat down on the bench beside me, gently placing the guitar case on the ground in front of us as if it were his baby. "You mind if I see your flute for a second? I'm a bit of a band dweeb." I bit my lip to hold back a giggle and passed my flute over. I wasn't entirely sure why, but I knew I could trust Morgan.
Neither of us spoke for the several minutes Morgan took to look over the flute. "Wow," he breathed finally. "This is a pretty good flute. Seen better days though. Where'd you get it?"
"My brother, Percy, got it for me." Morgan smiled at me.
"This is great. One of my favorite rockers, Jethro Tull, plays a flute solo in pretty much everyone of his songs. I love it!" Morgan picked up the flute and brought it up a few inches from his face. "Do you mind," he asked suddenly, as if suddenly remembering this wasn't his instrument. I shook my head, and Morgan began to play. I recognized the song as a classical piece. One from some symphony Mom probably had a recording of somewhere. The way Morgan played the piece was beautiful. He changed dynamics and tempos perfectly, and I could picture him standing on a stage in some famous concert house performing a beautiful solo.
"That was amazing," I said softly as Morgan finished off the piece. "How did you learn to play like that?"
"Years of practice," Morgan sighed happily. He ran his hand down the side of the flute before carefully taking it apart and putting it back in its case meticulously. My eyes flickered to the guitar case, and Morgan must have seen because he asked, "Do you want to see it?" I nodded eagerly, and Morgan flashed me a grin before bending over and undoing the latches.
He pulled the guitar out and put the strap over his head. "Sparkles," he said, "This is my first guitar. I've had it for quite a while now." He stroked his left hand up the neck almost lovingly. "Whenever I can't deal with people, which is quite a bit sadly, I turn to music. I love it so much."
"Can you play something?" I asked eagerly.
"Of course," he replied. He grabbed a sky blue pick from inside the case and began strumming.
And though I never got her name
Or time to find out anything
I loved her just the same
And though I rode a different road
And sang a different song
I'll love her till my last breath's gone
Like a river made of silver
Everyone came running to the scene
I was shot down in cold blood
By an angel in blue jeans
Whoa oh oh oh oh oh
Late that night she got away
I chased her to the turnpike
Then lost her where the music never plays
And though I rolled upon the stones
And fell into the water
I'll love her till my judgment day
Like a sunrise made of white lies
Everything was nothing as it seems
I was shot down in cold blood
By an angel in blue jeans
Whoa oh oh oh oh oh
Whoa oh oh oh oh oh
I hear voices calling all around
I keep falling down
I think my heart could pound right out of me
I see a million different ways
To never leave this maze alive
I woke up in somebody's arms
Strange and so familiar
Where nothing could go wrong
Barely alive or nearly dead
Somehow awake in my own bed
And there you are
Like a highway headed my way
Life is but a dream
I was shot down by your love
My angel in blue jeans
Whoa oh oh oh oh oh
Whoa oh oh oh oh oh
Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah
Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah
"How was that?" Morgan asked, putting his guitar away as he spoke.
"Really good," I said excitedly. "Is there anything you can't do?" Morgan laughed loudly.
"There's quite a bit I can't do." His voice sounded pained, like he was reliving bad memories. The sour mood only lasted a minute before his smile was back though. "Hey Sparkles, let's go out to lunch together!"
Morgan pulled me along through the streets of New York, "Where's your place, I want to ask your mom for permission before taking you out." Uh oh, Mom's at work,
but I'm definitely not asking Gabe.
"Um, my mom's not home, she's working, but I can take you there."
"Sounds good to me," Morgan grinned. He never seemed to stop smiling. "C'mon, let's go!" I laughed and pulled him along to Grand Central Station, where my mom worked at the candy shop, Sweets on America.
"Mom!" I called when I got into the shop with Morgan trailing behind me. She smiled and waved me over, sending a confused glance at Morgan, who was still letting me drag him behind me.
"Hello Nina," she said cheerfully. "Whose your friend?" Morgan leaned in close to Mom and began to whisper. I couldn't quite hear what it s he was saying, but my mom smiled after he pulled away. "You can spend the rest of the day with her, dear. I just need her back by five for dinner."
"Of course Ms. Jackson," Morgan smiled. He grabbed my hand and pulled me down a few flights of stairs into the actual subway station. I didn't get a chance to say a word before he had me on a subway and in his lap on a seat.
"Um, Morgan? Where are we going?" I asked a little nervously. There were a bunch of strange people around, and I suddenly realized I had only known Morgan for a few days. But Mom trusted him, so he couldn't be about to kidnap me, right?
"A really great pizzeria in Hoboken," was his reply. Then, the train stopped and he pulled me off, stringing the guitar on his back with my flute in his right hand, and my hand in his left. "You'll love it I promise."
After a few turns we turned into a pizzeria just like he said. "Welcome to the best pizzeria in Hoboken, Sparkles." I smiled up at him and let him lead me into the restaurant. We were seated almost immediately, and we each ordered a slice of pizza and a soda.
"So, Sparkles, tell me about yourself," Morgan prompted.
"What do you want to know because there isn't much to me." When he just shrugged I continued. "My full name is Antonina Asteria Jackson. I'm eight. I was born August 18,1990. my favorite color is purple, but I really love blue too. I love learning and playing music, my favorite instrument is the acoustic guitar because it sounds the nicest. I love alternative music. My brother's name is Perseus Theseus Jackson. I live with my mom, brother, and step-dad, but I absolutely hate him." I took a deep breath,"Now what about you?"
"Wow, okay, I have a twin sister named Diane. My mom's name is Leto. My father hates me. I love anything to do with literature. I love the sun and everything to do with it. I visit my uncle's beach house all the time. I took up archery when I was younger, and I hate violence but will beat you up if you hurt my family, my father not included in that."
"I think we'll be best friends," I said eagerly. Morgan wrapped his arms around me in a giant hug.