Too Late, Part 1

‘Ello mates!

This is the first part of a story I just pounded out last night. It’s only going to be a  two party, and it’s not my best work, but it’s honest. I hope you like it.

 

I stood in a circle chatting with my friends. Orientation was finally over, the grueling three hours of lectures and slideshows divided up with awkward getting-to-know-you games and the occasional fun game, in about twenty different groups.


We were just glad it was over.


“Hi, Sarah!”


I heard a vaguely familiar voice pipe my name way too close to my ear and a thin hand on my shoulder. I turned around and smiled widely at the owner of the hand.


“Oh, hi, Madison! I didn’t know you were going to go here! You never said anything while we were in that singing workshop together.”


“Oh, yeah, my parents and I decided this was a good option. Good on the resume–for colleges, you know. I don’t really know anybody here, so I was glad to see you!”


“That’s awesome! Sorry I didn’t text you after the workshop was over, I’ve been busy.”


“That’s totally fine.” Madison surveyed the group I was in, who had fallen mostly silent during this exchange. “Who’re these guys?”


“Oh, sorry! Of course, I’ll introduce you.” I went around the circle and introduced everyone to Madison. They were all as polite as their personalities could manage, and then we easily assimilated Madison into our conversation.


****************************************************************


“You’ll do great, honey.” My mom leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. “Have a good day!”


“Thanks, I’ll try,” I replied, slamming the car door shut and trudging up into the school with my eyes firmly on the ground. My backpack was weighed down with all the school supplies and new textbooks we had bought the previous week. I pulled the crumpled sheet of paper that I had received during orientation out of my pocket and smoothed it, trying to read my locker number.


“528 … I think I remember where that is,” I murmured. If memory served, the five hundreds were all the way down the hall and a left at the staircase. I tried it, and sure enough, there was my locker … surrounded by football jocks who were all a foot taller than me at the least. I groaned inwardly and stood off to the side, waiting for them to disperse.


When I had finally organized my locker and grabbed my books for my first class, I started back down the hall. About to exit the main building to go across the campus to history, I felt a familiar light hand resting on my shoulder.


“Hi, Madison,” I said, turning.


“Hi! Want to compare schedules?” She asked earnestly.


I glanced at the clock. Eight minutes to bell. I shrugged. “Sure! But I have to head across campus, so I can’t be too long.” We each pulled out our respective crumpled sheets of paper and compared them.


“It looks like we have choir together next period!” Madison said cheerfully.


“Great, see you then! Have fun in class,” I teased.


“At least I’m not a know-it-all in three honors classes,” Madison replied.
I turned around and saw a smile on her lips. I smiled tentatively back. Had she been teasing? I wondered.


I couldn’t really tell.
****************************************************************


The first few weeks passed without much hubbub. I met three new friends, and we all took a fast liking to one another. Amber, Caroline, and Molly had choir with Madison and me. I also had PE and Biology with Molly, and we proved to become fast friends. Naturally, I introduced my three new friends to Madison. It was the nice thing to do, and we had a class together, anyway.


The five of us ended up partnering up on almost every group project in choir. Today was one of those days. We had to write original lyrics to a well-known song, but only a one minute excerpt.


“What if we use the tune from ‘Don’t Stop Believin’?” I suggested.


“Yeah,” Molly agreed.


Caroline shrugged. “Sure, I like that song.”


Amber nodded her agreement.


“Sarah, you make all the decisions in our projects!” Protested Madison.
“Could you stop being so bossy?”


It stung as if she had slapped me. “Sorry, Madison,” I said quietly. “What do you want to do?”


“I want to write the lyrics, and I have something PERFECT in mind for the tune of ‘Titanium.’”


“Sure, I’m good with that. Guys?” I looked at my other three friends. They looked vaguely perturbed at Madison’s behavior, but nodded acceptance of Madison’s idea.

Part two should come out tomorrow. Be sure to tell me what you thought. I know it’s not my best work, but I had two people encourage me to post it anyway, so I did. 🙂


5 thoughts on “Too Late, Part 1

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