Valerie stepped into the band room, her band director giving her a slight frown. She took her seat next to her best friend. He smiled at her and raised the music stand slightly so the director couldn't see the pair talking. "A little late, Val?" He said. She shot him a fithy look. "As if you can talk, Nat, you're only here because you never sleep." Nathaniel smiled, wryly, in response.
"So, I'm an insomniac, it's not a crime." He said, getting out the music score. "And being late for class is." Valerie smiled. "I wasn't late. I was on time." She said, ignoring him. Nat's mud-brown eyes looked sceptical. "That's what they all say," he replied sarcastically, his greyish-brown hair just meeting his eyebrows. It used to be long, Valerie reminded herself as she looked at it, but his parents sheared it off as punishment for something. He got in trouble for everything. At this point, Valerie had stopped trying to help him, and stopped feeling sorry for him.
"So," Nat said, smiling, "Why were you late?" "Why else," Valerie replied, "I walk to school. But -" She looked up, the music had begun. She looked at her music. The flutes rested for sixteen mesures at the beginning. She was still free to talk to Nat. "But I was thinking about...all that's happened...and I was feeling a little depressed. So, I didn't have as much spring in my step." It was then that they had to play. Nat gave her a half-pitying, half-exasperated look.
Val didn't think about the song as much as she should have. It was an easy piece, so she shouldn't have missed any notes, but she did. She was thinking about the creulty of the world again. She had washed up on shore a two years ago, two months before the start of her freshman year. She had no memory of where she had come from or how she had gotten there. The doctors said the memory loss was due to the fact that she nearly drown. They also said that the extensive cuts and broken bones was due to the shap rocks scattered through the harbor. After a month in intensive care she was enrolled in the school, and put into a foster home. She often felt bitter about this. She was found with the best looking designer clothes, expesive jewelry. She felt like she had been cheated, that she had lost it all. And worst of all she couldn't remember -
Suddenly a searing pain shot into the pads of her fingers. She wrinkled her nose in protest. She squeaked a note from her rapid intake of breath. The pain momentarily vanished, then it redoubled, this time in her chin, below her lips too. Her eyes began to stream. She had never felt this pain before. She put the flute down and rubbed her fingers, but the pain did not recede. Nat lowered his flute, too, and looked at her. "Are you alright?" He whispered. She shook her head. She thrust the flute into his hands. "Huh?" He said, confused, "What's up?" "It's my flute..." She managed, gasping. The burning sensation was beyond intense. "It's burning me." She stood, walking for the door, then taking the last few steps at a loping pace. The band members stopped and looked at her periodically. The band director didn't notice her leave until only half the band was still playing. Nat rose, too, and followed her. "Something's up with Val." He said to the director, who nodded.
Out in the hall, Val was on her hands and knees. Nat ran to her. "What do you think's up?" He asked, concern in his eyes. "I don't know..." Val said. Her vision was going. Though the flute had parted company with her skin, the pain had not dulled. "I think I'm going to pass out." She said. Nat rose, ran to a nearby water fountain. Ripping off his navy tie, he wet it in the cold water. Running back, he said, "Where does it hurt?" Val rolled onto her back, raising one hand with the remainded of her strength. He pressed the tie to it, then withdrew it quickly.
"Your hands are freezing!" He said. Val couldn't respond. She had lost conciousness, slipping into the darkness of oblivion.
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