New Novel - Updated - 7/01/10

Chapter One

         The first day of school is always the hardest.  For a girl, the biggest worries always seem to be superficial.  What to wear, how to style their hair, and which shoes will look best with their outfit.  May that’s why Caroline always seems to feel like an outsider looking in.  Her main concerns are if she’ll be tormented by the usual stares, hear the whispers as she walks by, and wondering if her junior year will be better or worse than the last.

         With her alarm still going off, she sleepily walks over to her closet and begins searching through its contents.  Coming across something, Caroline begins to consider wearing the simple black pleated mini skirt her cousin, Chloe, said would look fantastic on her.  She tosses it onto her unmade bed as a possibility while thinking how different it is from what she usually wears.  When she sees her cousin’s purple halter top, though, her outfit starts coming together.

         She sighs in defeat while pulling out Chloe’s high heel sandals.

         It’s the simplest thing to slip into after that long night of turmoil, Caroline thinks to herself, tears already beginning to form in her eyes.

         She gazes in the mirror with her reflection not even registering through her unfocused eyes.  Memories of her life, especially last night, flash though her mind, so vivid, with every image more powerful than the one before.

         “No,” she whispers under her breath while shaking away her thoughts.  “I’m fine.  There’s nothing to think about,” Caroline tells herself.

         She gets dressed and straightens up her room to make it look presentable.  Opening her bedroom door, she tiptoes through the hallway to the bathroom, trying her best not to wake anyone up.  Caroline looks in the mirror, concealer in hand.  The black, blue, and purple mixture right underneath her left eye can’t be seen by anyone.  She squeezes the bottle slightly until some make-up comes out onto the small sponge.

         Caroline gently applies some, flinching slightly with every nudge.  After some time, it’s barely noticeable and she moves onto the mascara, eye shadow, blush, and any other products she was forced to use in the past.  She then slinks down the stairs for breakfast.

         She heats the pan for pancakes and grabs a pitcher of pink lemonade from the fridge.  Soon, she’s sitting at the kitchen table, alone, eating syrup covered pancakes and drinking her usual.  This isn’t out of the ordinary for Caroline to be eating alone.  Surprisingly, it would be strange for either one of her parents to join her.

         It wasn’t always like this, though.  Back when she was younger, Caroline had a traditional 1950s household.  A stay at home mom and a father who worked from nine to five who arrived just in time for dinner.  Their mother always had a hot meal waiting for them, her brother, Preston, and Caroline to eat.  They never worried that anything in their lives would go wrong.  Their biggest worries were if they’d miss their favorite TV show or fall and scrape their knees.  Their lives were so innocent and sheltered, seemingly perfect.  Little did Caroline know that life as she knew it would change and pop the bubble she was so contentedly staying within.

         Preston quietly comes down the stairs, yawning with every step he takes.  Caroline uses all of her remaining strength to muster up a smile.  She gets his plate together and pours some milk into a cup and then puts it on the table.

         He looks out the window at the sound of a car pulling up the driveway.

         “Chloe’s here,” he says as he rubs his eyes.

         “And good morning to you, too.  Your breakfast is on the table and your lunch is on the top shelf in the refrigerator,” Caroline says as she starts walking towards the door.

         “Okay.”

         “Make sure you brush your teeth real well.  You don’t want to have cavities when you go to the dentist.” She grabs her back pack.

         “Yeah, I know.”

         “Mrs. Johnson will be here at her regular time.  Be sure not to have her wait.  You know how impatient she is.  Oh, and put your dishes in the dishwasher when you’re done.  Now, come here.”

         Caroline pulls him to her and hugs him.  She kisses his forehead, “I love you.”

         “I love you, too,” he answers.

         “Enjoy your first day,” she calls enthusiastically as she walks out the door.

         As soon as Caroline turns around, her entire expression changes.  Her joyful expression transforms into a pitiful look of misery most commonly seen at funerals.  She hears the sound of her heels on the pavement until she stops to open the car door.  All her cousin can do is stare.

         Chloe waits patiently as Caroline gets settled.

         “You wanna talk about it?” she asks.

         All Caroline does is look out the window with a bitter expression on her face and a single tear trickling down her rosy cheek.

         “Keeping it bottled up won’t help.”

         “Then what do you want me to say?” she snaps.  “That my drunk mother slapped me so hard across the face it left a bruise?  That it took me ten minutes to cover it up before you couldn’t actually tell it was there?  That I have to put on a huge charade for Preston just so he doesn’t think I’m giving up as much as I am?”

         There’s a short pause with only Caroline’s heavy breathing before Chloe says, “If it helped, then yes.”

         The rest of the ride is driven in an awkward silence.  Chloe occasionally glances at a sulking Caroline who stubbornly continues to look out the window.

         Once they pull into a parking space at school, Caroline quickly pulls down the mirror and tries her best to disguise her feelings.

         “Hey, I’m sorry to hear about last night,” Chloe attempts.

         Caroline looks at her, sees the sympathetic look in her eyes, and gives in.

         “Thanks,” is all Caroline can say.

         “C’mon, we’ll talk on the way through the parking lot to the school and sit on one of the benches until the bell rings.”

         She nods and they get out of the car.

         “My mom hit me because I was folding clothes,” she sighs.

         “Are you serious?”

         “Yeah, she came out of her bedroom after being passed out for four hours.  I was folding clothes in the living room on the coffee table, when all of a sudden she starts yelling at me about it not being the right way, that I was folding them all wrong.  I kept folding, assuming she’d go away like usual, but she pounded her fist on the table and started shouting louder.  All it took was for me to begin to open my mouth and she slammed the side of my face with her knuckles,” Caroline finishes, looking exhausted by the effort.

         “Hun, I’m sorry to hear that.  Here, sit down.”  She motions to one of the wooden benches by the main entrance.

         As they sit, Caroline mainly leans her head on her cousin’s shoulder with Chloe’s arm around her.  There’s no conversation until a fiery haired boy driving a pretty expensive car pulls into a parking space.  Not only do Chloe and Caroline start talking, but everyone around them begins whispering at hyper speed.

         “I guess we have another Yankee coming to our school,” Caroline says as she looks up at Chloe.

         “Ugh, not another one.  I’m just getting over the last scumbag who thought being a hot shot was everything.”

         “Aren’t we all?” she sighs.

         The bell rings.  Caroline hugs Chloe goodbye and starts walking to homeroom.  Constantly, she’s feeling self conscious.  She’s modeling a skirt, high heels, and a lovely bruise that cover up couldn’t completely cover up.  Finally ending up in homeroom, she grabs a seat in the back corner, a place where anyone can turn invisible.  When called for attendance, Caroline barely raises her hand, just enough to be noticed.  After the principal makes her annual announcement, the bell rings for students to head to their first class.

         Looking down at her schedule, she sees:

PIANO    PD 2    MRS. HARRIS    RM 110

         Since when did I sign up for piano? she starts to wonder.

         After leaving homeroom, Caroline finds herself in the hallway.  She walks in the halls for a few minutes and before she knows it, she’s standing in a line outside Mrs. Harris’s classroom, who immediately opens the door.

         “To begin, class, grab a piano as we wait for the others to arrive.”

         Caroline looks around the classroom, trying to find a piano in a good spot.  She sits at one all the way at the end of the left side.

         Hopefully people won’t be able to notice my “beauty mark” as much, she thinks as she drops her stuff onto the floor.

         With about thirty seconds left until the final bell rings, Caroline starts hoping she might be lucky enough to sit by herself, but just as Mrs. Harris is about to shut the door, someone comes into the classroom and sits down at the piano next to her.

         Dude, are you serious?!  You had to sit next to me?  You couldn’t find ano- wait, is that the new kid sitting there?

Chapter Two

         Curiously, she glances at him out of the corner of her eye.  She sees a few items come out of his bag before he lowers his head in defeat and drops the bag on the ground before him.

         All of a sudden, an older woman comes out of her office with a big beehive of blonde hair and black and purple polka dot eye glasses.  Gathering papers and doing some quick organization, the new kid speaks up.

         “Hey Miss?” he asks.

         She looks up at the sound of his voice.

         “Do you by any chance have a pencil or something I can borrow?”

         “No dear, I’m sorry, I don’t.  I’m not Staples, you know.  You’ll have to ask someone else,” she responds casually.

         “Damn it,” he mutters under his breath.

         The teacher eyes him before speaking to the whole class.  “Good morning, class.  My name is Mrs. Harris, and I’m your piano teacher.  Now, I expect you all to work hard, do your best, and not break any of my pianos,” she says as she glares at Brendan Anderson, the senior hottie.  She then continues, “You can all achieve great things when you put your mind to it, and I want nothing less.  Now, on to your first assignment.”

         With his head down, the boy grumbles in frustration at the fact he doesn’t have a pencil, as if this is the icing on the cake after a long chain of horrible events that happened.  Caroline sees this misery and relates to the unknown student.

         “Here,” she offers as she holds a pencil out, “you can borrow one of mine.”

         “Um, thanks.”

         Her cheeks redden slightly as Caroline smiles in response.

         “Class,” their teacher announces, interrupting their exchange, “this first assignment is quite simple.  You should catch on pretty quickly but if you don’t, I’ll help you after you’ve shown some effort.”

         Caroline receives three sheets of paper and looks at them with a headache already beginning to form.  There are notes, rhythms, hand placements, and a sheet of music for them to be able to play by the end of the class.  She slouches on the bench, overwhelmed by the amount of work she needs to do in such a short period of time.  Unlike her, though, the new kid gets it.

         Turning her head, she sees him stretching out his arms and hands as if he’s going to be playing a masterpiece.  With his muscles looser and expression more serene, he places his hands on the piano.  He’s plays a chord then jumps right into the assignment.  Barely even looking at the keys, he nails it on the first shot and Caroline makes sure to close her mouth before he notices her watching.

         “Dear, where did you learn to do that?” Mrs. Harris asks, with a sense of pride in her voice.

         “I’ve been taking lessons since I was ten.”

         Raising her eyebrows, clearly impressed, she glances at him one last time before walking over to one of the other students raising their hand.

         Caroline turns back to her own papers in front of her and her confidence lowers even more.  Along with a wrinkled brow, she automatically begins to think she’s going to fail the whole class.

         “Do you need some help?” the boy offers.

         “No, I’m fine,” she lies.

         “Being stubborn isn’t going to help, trust me.”

         “It isn’t?”

         “Not at all.  Scoot over.”

         She moves over to allow enough room for the kid to join her on the bench.  He gets so close his leg touches her own, and Caroline feels her face burn as if it’s on fire.

         “Oh yeah, my name’s Tyler, by the way.”

         “I’m Caroline.”  She smiles.

         He shortly grins back at her before turning to the piano.  He takes her left hand.  “Okay, so this hand goes here and the notes are C, B, A, G, F.”

         She nods as he grabs her right hand.  “Then this hand goes here and the notes are C, D, E, F, G.”

         “So far I think I’ve got it.”

         For the rest of class Tyler tries his best to explain as much as he can to Caroline, with Mrs. Harris intervening occasionally along the way.  After showing her the hand placement, he explains the basic notes, barely scratches the surface of reading music, and surprisingly has her attempting to play the song that was assigned to them at the beginning of class.  By the end of the period, Caroline has some understanding of what the real world calls music, and Tyler looks drained.

         “Sorry this took the whole period,” Caroline apologizes.

         He waves it off.  “It’s not a big deal.  You’ll be playing Mozart in no time.”  He smiles.

         “I’ll be sure to include you in my thank you speech.”

         They laugh together and Tyler holds her gaze for a few extra moments.

         Blinking his eyes a few times to bring himself back to reality, he asks her, “Do you mind helping me with something?”

         “Sure, what is it?”

         “I need to know where my next class is.”

         “Now that’s something I can help you with.”

         She looks at his schedule and grins before telling him he’s right across the hall.

         “Even I could have figured that out . . . but I’m also confused on something else.”

         “What?”

         “Well, this whole schedule thing is a big blur to me.  I can’t seem to grasp the concept of what it is, how it works, things like that,” he drawls.

         The bell rings and Caroline giggles.  “City boys such as yourself aren’t that different from hicks like me.  I think you can figure it out, and if you need any help, just ask that Mozart guy you were talking about before.  He sounds pretty smart,” she teases before walking out the door into the hallway.  The whole time, she’s wishing she doesn’t have to leave.

         “Woah!” Caroline gasps after she closes the door and turns around.  Chloe’s standing right there, waiting for her.  With her hand on her rising chest, they begin their walk to their next class.

         “Still think you’re gonna fail piano?” Chloe asks.

         “Nah, I must be a natural or something.”

         “You seem to be in a much better mood than before.”

         “Why do you say that?”

         “The joke you just made was hilarious because you probably can’t play any instrument better than a tone-deaf seahorse.”

         “Hey! And why a seahorse?”

         “Because it would be insulting to call you a monkey,” Chloe reasons.

         “Only you,” she says while smiling.

         “So who helped you?”

         “His name’s Tyler.”

         “Tyler?”

         “You might know him better as ‘City Boy,’”

         Chloe’s jaw drops.

         “What?”

         “City slicker has talent?” she asks Caroline, surprised.

         “What happened to don’t judge a book by its cover?”

         “Oh, you know I don’t listen to clichés.”

         Caroline playfully rolls her eyes to her cousin’s response.  They walk into the Home Ec. Room and all Caroline can think is:

         I really want Home Ec. to be over.  I have World Studies next and want to go so badly!  Miss Chase can be a bit of a drag but I might have someone to keep me occupied.  At least Piano isn’t the only class we have together.