The Geek Revolution ✓

02 | musician

IN MY CONFUSED EFFORTS TO navigate from AP Calculus — which I have after homeroom on Mondays — to my next class, I thankfully find a girl who seems to share a common destination with me.

I assume she is also heading to Music Theory because of the violin case clutched in her hand. If not, at the very least, she can point me in the right direction. As I discreetly follow her from behind, I observe the girl.

Streaks of colour dart in and out of the bottom third of her hair, like fish swimming through a golden ocean at the speed of light, leaving only a visual imprint of where they were. Green streaks, orange tresses, blue fish, purple hair. Every shade of the spectrum must be squeezed onto her brown hair, but instead of looking messy and crowded, it looks beyond artistic on her.

She is always two steps ahead of me, but I am content with following her. It's from this vantage point that I see a boy slide his foot out and trip her. The case tumbles out of her hands. The discordant clang of strings is a musician's equivalent of nails on a chalkboard and makes me wince, both for her and for her instrument.

While she picks herself up from the floor, frazzled, I get the violin case, and pick off the specks of grime that latched onto it.

"Thanks," her voice charms.

A smile tugs at one side of her lips, forming an approachable half-smile that looks like it could be used in any situation or context. She could say hello with that smile; she could say goodbye; she might even say sorry for a runaway cat.

"You're welcome. That was really rude of him." I pass the violin case back into her hands.

"Oh." She glances at the boy on the other side of the hallway, chatting innocently with his friends. "I'm sure he didn't mean that. He probably just stumbled."

My eyebrows knit together, having watched the whole thing from two paces away. He did not stumble. But she seems content to sweep the incident away, so I ask pleasantly, "Do you play violin?"

And then smack myself internally.

"Of course you play violin," I grimace. "It's not like you carry that just for decoration."

The girl throws back her head and laughs. "That's okay. I've played since I was ten years old. Do you play any instruments?" 

I'm receiving good vibes from her. I don't even know her name, but already, I see better friendship prospects with her than Terrence the prankster with friends in high places. She's smart, and forgiving, and musical — which is something we have in common.

"Yeah, I play piano."

"That's cool! Are you enrolled in any music classes this year?"

I nod as we stroll down the hallways, much quicker now that I have someone who knows where she is going. "I'm taking the senior Music Theory elective. I actually noticed your violin case and hoped you knew where that classroom is, since you seem familiar with the music department."

"You are in luck, new girl." She extends a hand. "I'm Leah, and I'm taking Music Theory with you."

Cool relief flows down my spine. A friend! On my first day, too. That's a win if I ever saw one. 

I extend my own hand and we share a handshake between two bright grins. "I'm Sophie. Very nice to meet you."

Once we are acquainted, it's like our common musicality sparks up an immediate friendship. We find ourselves discussing our musical history when Leah tells me a joke about how to remember the strings of the violin. It is so cheesy, and so lame.