Jonathan Mathews
John's morning had been hectic--rushed really. His alarm hadn't been set and his clothes were still in the dryer. Late and restless, John was only able to eat a few spoon-fulls of cereal before being dragged out the house by his cousin. They had missed the bus but his Uncle had returned that morning and was willing to drive them to school. His Uncle was clearly tired so the conversation was light considering his cousin was the only one in the mood to hold any form of banter.
" Are you excited, John? This is going to be our last year. There is so much to look forward too, homecoming is right around the corner, you know?" His cousin was the athletic type; placing camaraderie as her motto and her family and friends as her passion. She worked hard and people loved her for it. She was frequently active in the school's events and in her junior year she ran for class president, however she lost to Jalise Moore and became Vice-president instead. She had mention running again this year in the hopes of winning. In any case, John was not so active. He was satisfied with passing his time in the library or sheltered in a corner with music. When he was on the ranch, he grew accustomed to physical work but now having moved and left the ranch behind he felt good lazing about. Today was no different. He had planned to sit in the back of the class and reluctantly follow along while sneaking a read of the next John Grisham novel on his list, but his cousin was infectious. Her lively attitude always pushed John to be more involved. It was almost a superpower of hers-- making things that would otherwise be boring fun. John mustered up a, " Aye Aye, Sergeant..," and returned to his mission of trying to dig out a few extra minutes of sleep. His Uncle, however, left him no time to get comfortable with his erratic driving. Slipping between cars and cutting down streets at a break-neck speed, it was a miracle that they got to school in one piece, and early no less. Shaken and stirred, John and his cousin stepped out onto the front entrance of the school leaving Uncle Drake with muddled and reluctant "thank you"s.
His cousin explained that she had to check in with her Tennis Coach before school before rushing toward the courts to the side of the school. John fitted his backpack to the side and headed inside the school. He was early and hopefully he would be able to find his way around before dealing with the incoming students. It was an old building, the school. It had been renovated many times but John could see the wear and tear of decades of use. The staircase, made of polished maple wood, would creak ever so lightly as you trekked up its winding steps. The hallways were filled with bulletin boards and announcement ledgers. His first class was Art Appreciation in the Music and Fine Arts department on the 3rd floor.
I believe its room 322? Ugh I hate this school... its like a maze. I think it may be down this way...
After turning several corners he found himself staring down the hall of the Music Department, frustrated he turned around hoping the Art Department was close by, only to be stopped by the strumming of a guitar. It was nice. It had been a long time since he heard someone play the guitar. His father had one but he's only ever heard him play a handful of times. It was strange.. the strumming reminded him of his father, slumped in a chair on the patio strumming his guitar and passing the time. John followed the sound to an old music room tucked away at the end of the hallway. He peered in, searching for a face to match the sound. It was a girl, around his age, perched on a desk strumming a guitar. The wind blew in from the open window beside her and caught her hair. Her hair was long and captivating. She lifted her hand to brush her hair aside and their eyes met for the first time.
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