Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Only Broken Instrument ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Its fifth hour and I am quiet. No one to talk to and no one to even get along with. Everyone is loud, outgoing and open-minded. I, on the other hand, am not–for this hour anyway. They do anything to get attention while I sit back, stare at the boring blue walls or pluck the food out of my recently done nails. The yellow clock catches my attention. Only thirty minutes to go and that makes me agitated. I wish I had switched classes, but I figured it was too late. I need my high school credits so I might as well take this class for a good two semesters. It didn’t bother me, but what did bother me is the time going by ever so slowly. Two more periods to go. The teacher wears Nike shoes. She’s cool, I guess.
The over-whelming feeling of coming into this class is like a buildup of heavy bricks threatening to come crashing to the ground. I am at the edge of those bricks waiting to break my fall and have some sort of breakdown. Yet, this bored and ignorant face I wear convinces everyone who’d think I couldn’t give a hoot what people would think of me. They’re totally wrong. If I can call myself a people pleaser, then that’s half-accurate. Then again, I’m not here to please anyone. I could care less what half of these people think. I just want to get out of this hell hole called “high school”.
The teachers looking at me as if I’m not paying attention. My head is lying on top of my arm with half of my eyes closed. Maybe she does have a reason to be glaring at me like that.
“Natalie, you okay?” The teacher drops her book on the desk.
My head automatically props up staring ahead at the dry erase board. With a simple nod, I murmured. “Yeah.”
The other students in the class continues conversing with each other before the teacher clears her throat to continue her lesson. I still had no clue to how the teacher could let these people talk at such a fast and loud rate. Even I couldn’t take the mental headache I was getting from the entire ruckus. But then again, I was also loud and talkative. Around my friends whom I feel close too, of course.
A long, and continuous high pitch takes over the speakers meaning fifth hour was over. The talkative Freshmen/Sophomore’s exit the class room side by side still chatting and keeping up with each others on-going conversation. I tail in from behind to head to my next class ruled by coldness and Medicine balls; Gym. I shuddered to the thought of that word. Never in my life had I did sports, or exercises due to my Asthma and Diabetic problem. I wasn’t too fat at the slightest weighing at one hundred, three pounds. Being fifteen, you can call that normal from having a sugar problem, right? Well, whatever.
Everyone is taller than me. Getting through the crowd of sophomores, juniors or seniors only made me feel like the small mouse careful of being crushed. ‘Course, no one cares whether they step on you or not. It’s all about getting to your classes and meeting up with your friends. I thought that way, yes, but it was the only few friends that I had who actually mattered. Those few friends didn’t realize how much of an impact they had on me. It was just seeing Natalie’s face and then talking with her and then laughing with her; never saying that we’re ‘good’ friends.
Throwing on my blank, white hoodie, I finally sit down on top of the shaky and cold benches. No one else was around so I assumed I was the first one in class. Well, it’s always been like that ever since so it wasn’t surprising at the least. Then again, I liked the fact that no one else cared if they were running late to their classes or not. It didn’t seem ‘mature’ when they did finally show up minutes early before anyone else. It was either, “coach said he’ll give me detention if I don’t show up” or “my friend who always waits for me isn’t here today”. Don’t think I don’t see that happen. It happens very often, actually.
Finally, someone shows up. It was my new friend that I made not too long ago. Her name is Liz and she is new to this somewhat big city. She doesn’t talk much, but I liked her for that. When she did say something, it was either her agreeing with what I say or complaining about the school’s bad air-conditioning.
“It’s cold.” She spoke up after taking a seat next to me.
“Yeah. The coaches need to fix that.” The climate was always the first thing to comment about before class started.
She softly chuckles, pulling out her cell phone and looking through her inbox. I have a cell phone of my own, but I hardly get any texts from my own friends. Checking the time of my pink Blackberry, it was around three minutes before the tardy bell rang. One by one, students start entering the Gym friends by their sides and cell phones hiding behind bodies’ texting away. Honestly, I thought texting wasn’t something to live with while growing up and getting older. Punching in numbers and talking over the phone was much easier than taking forever to hit all ten buttons three times to spell out a word. I wasn’t such a pro of the hobby, but I tried.
Weird, my other friend hadn’t shown up after the loud bell rang. She was usually the one complaining about getting out of this class and her grandparents calling her overweight which had another reason for her being in this class. Being the other and only friend I had in this class, she was a pretty laid-back friend.
“The coach is coming!” I heaved under my breath while Liz stuffs her phone back into her pocket.
The coach is old with hardly any hair left on the top of his head. He wears the same type of clothing everyday; shorts and/or a sweater with our high school’s logo on it. He’s kind of… touchy. Once, he appeared behind me slapping me on my back and settling one hand on my shoulder while he whispered, “What’s your name?” Both of my friends seemed freaked out about the unusual encounter as well.
Gym is also one of my many classes that I wished I hadn’t chosen. One; I hate changing into shorts and a t-shirt and two; I don’t even exercise. So, what was the point of being in this class anyway?
“Alright, hush up now so we can get started!” The coach demanded. Half of the class went silent while the rest ignored him and continued to talk to each other. “Today, we’re going to go to the track and walk a mile. No start complaining… unless you want a detention.” He cackles wickedly sending shivers down my spine. “Go line up!” He barked as everyone got to their feet and made their way to the double doors behind the benches.
While the coach stood by the doors holding them open for everyone to exit, Liz and I approach the doors. He shakes his head and observes us.
“I can’t–“
“I know. Don’t start your reasoning.” He cuts in rudely. He turns to look at Liz. “Where are your clothes?”
She threw a shifty glance at me and then back at him. “I forgot them.”
He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. Taking out his clipboard, I watch him write a sloppy fifty next to her name. “I’ll let this off as a warning. Just don’t forget, alright?”
She quickly nods pulling me by the arm and leading us to catch up with the rest of the class. I turn to look over my shoulder to watch the coach jog to the front of the class and lead the way to the track. His jogging looked strange.
“He scares me.” I say after a few quiet seconds.
She laughs. “I know. I left my clothes at home on purpose.”
I stare at her with disbelief. Liz looked so calm, quiet and hearing her tell this is like breaking a law. “Nuh uh?”
“Yep.” She said with a confident smirk. “I’m so bad.”
We both shared a quiet laugh finally stepping on the grounds of the football field. Today’s weather is unbearably sunny and humid with no clouds painting the azure colored sky. The heat was never my best friend. I wish our winters could last long.
The coach finally departed from the class and walked off to go chat with some football coaches nearby. Liz too out her cell phone and began to text away. Turning to the benches, I expected for the usual kids to already take seats and disobey the coach about doing those four laps around the track. Today was different and a class of twenty students took seats there with sketch pads in hand.
“Why are they here?” I questioned holding an index finger to the class.
“It’s the Art class. We had to go out and sketch anything that we see outside.” She explains.
I furrowed a curious brow. “How do you know?”
“I had it last period.”
I nod along watching some of the students scribble onto their sketchpads while passing by. One individual caught my eyes. He was dressed in a black shirt, some slim jean pants, and a bunch of gummy bracelets. For some reason, he stuck out from the crowd of faces and it wasn’t because he was wearing an Iron Maiden shirt and kept staring back at me.
“Hey, keep walking!” The coach blurted out from far away obviously to me.
Jumping at the sudden noise, Liz and I sped up our pace. The guy and I’s glance faded away as soon as we pulled away from the benches area. And I was starting to get interested into that person too.

Afterwards, the class walked back into the Gym feeling the cool and cold air conditioning hit against our blushing red faces. Liz took a seat before me and glanced around to make sure the coach wasn’t around. Taking a seat as well, the Art class walked in at the same time the coach did. There was that guy, but I’m guessing he didn’t realize I was seated a few feet away from him.
“Did you realize the way he was looking at you?” Liz asked pulling out her cell to check the time.
I nodded. “You noticed too.” It was a statement rather than a question.
Once more, I glanced back at the guy and he was taking a seat opposite of the benches we were sitting in. His hand reaches into his backpack and takes out the same sketch pad. With a single glimpse over at us, our eyes met again. Trying to be casual about, I shot a stern look and looked at my hands sitting in my lap. I didn’t want him to know that I was somewhat interested in the way his eyes looked into mine creating this uncomfortable feeling inside me. What I did want him to know was that I wanted to get to know him without me being so desperate.
Suddenly, the phone in my pocket vibrated. “Whoa!” I gasped placing one hand in my pocket to push some random buttons for the vibrating to cease. When the coach finally looked away from his chattering students, I took the phone out to skim the new text message. It was from mom saying that I had to pick up my brothers and sisters from their school. I didn’t know what made me so irritated with that. Was it that their school was just across the street from our home or the fact that they’re not old enough to go home on their own?
“He’s staring at you again.” Liz said through clenched teeth.
I looked up just in time to see him look away. He was a sneaky one and he was obviously interested in me as well. “What’s his problem?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” She replies while finishing her text message. “Maybe he likes you.”
That would no way be near true. The last time I heard of someone having a crush on me was fourth grade–when I was young and stupid.
“I doubt it.” I replied with a snort. Taking one last look at the dude, he seemed to be sketching, looking up at me, and looking back down to sketch some more. His shifty glances made my stomach do flip flops. “Besides, I never even spoke to the guy.”
Finally, the bell rang. As Liz and I gathered our bags, she said, “Who knows. You two might make a connection somehow.”
“Right. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” We both parted our ways and I followed a crowd of students walking in the direction of my next and final class.
Out of all the students, the most popular cliques around here were expanding quite enormously. If you wore a red Elmo t-shirt, light blue skinny jeans, and maybe some Raybanz sunglasses, you were considered to be one of the ‘cool’ kids. Of course, personality always came along with what you wore. I for one won’t be seen wearing any kid-like t-shirts or extremely skinny jeans that left imprints on my upper thighs. I liked my own style and it seemed to blend it with what the ‘cool’ kids wore (but not exactly what they wore on a day-to-day basis).
Right there, I passed by the touch of a cold shoulder. I looked back and caught the face of an ex staring back at me. He gives me a half smile and turns back around to enter a class on the left. His name is Jason and he is a sophomore barely behaving without getting caught smoking on campus by the teachers and security guards. We broke up a week ago after I had found out he was getting high at a party with a girl that I never found a liking to. Then someone else rumored Jason and that girl to have made out and knock each other up. I honestly believed in the last little rumor. Knowing Jason, all he wanted was a girl, sex, and some weed or crack. When we broke up, he seemed reluctant at first, but by the next day, we didn’t even know each other’s presence existed.
Upon entering my class, I was greeted by my bubbly, round teacher by the door.
“Hello Miss Bridges!” Her chirping high voice welcomed.
I gave her a small smile as a response and walked into the class to have a seat and wait for the other kids to show up. For now, it was just me, a few kids in a corner, another in the middle of the class and some kid next to me with his nose in a book. Oh how I wished I had a book with me. I didn’t like looking and feeling like a loser with no one else to talk to nonetheless having a few friends in the class but never showing up on time.
That girl, the one Jason supposedly got high and made out with, took a seat next to me. Her perfectly curled hair and small figure made it to be envious to girls like me. Her face, however, was another story to how she ends up with guys liking her and her cute ‘nose’. She seemed perfectly normal to me despite having such exposing bust and leg area. Her name was Rosalind and she was the top of the haters list.
“Hey!” A pair of fingers grasped my shoulders making me jump at the sudden touch. I turn around to find my friend throw her head back and laugh.
“What?!” I remarked.
“You look so stupid!” She said between laughs.
“Casey…seriously.” I complained my whole facial expression turning from frightened to irritate.
“Gosh! What’s wrong with you today?”
I shook my head and leaned my forehead against the cold wood desk. “Everything.” I mumbled pathetically.
Casey was one of my closest friends. She didn’t ignore me when I felt excruciatingly miserable, she listened to what I had to say rather than take my words and change them and she brightens up my mood with some of her ridiculous sounding laugh attacks. I guess you can call her my half sister.
“Tired?” She asks with empathy adding onto her voice.
I shake my head once more. “More like confused.”
She cocks a puzzled look. “Why confused?”
I sit up, but to see the teacher walk in the class after the bell and exclaim, “Welcome to English class everyone! Please take out your composition books and start your daily warm ups.”
Looking back at Casey, I whisper. “I’ll tell you later.”
“Okay, but is it about a guy?”
“Kind of.”
Her eyes widened at me and smirked. I grinned sheepishly trying to hide a shy blush on my cheeks. I plopped the composition book onto my desk with a pencil rolling out of its spine. The teacher switched the projector on with a single question appearing over the blank dry erase board.
“What’s the answer?” I hear Rosalind ask my friend in front of me.
I pretended not to notice the fact that she actually said a word since the first day of school. That and the fact that she didn’t ask me instead of my friend since I was the closest to her.
“Umm, A?”
Rosalind looks over at me thinking that I couldn’t feel her stare burn through the back of my head. I looked up and she set her eyes back into her notebook. I wonder what she thinks of me and whether those thoughts were good or something for me to not even think about.
“What did you guys get?” The teacher asked referring to the answers.
“A!”
“It’s C!”
“Z!”
“Nope!” The teacher said sitting down in front of her laptop that sat next to the projector. She meets with my eyes and asks, “What did you get, Natalie?”
I looked down at my blank paper and shrugged. I hated speaking out loud in front of the class only fearing of being mocked of my own voice by others.
“B!” Rosalind finally shouts.
“Good job Miss Rosalind!”
Casey turns around in her seat and rolls her eyes. She hated Rosalind for what she did with Jason. Was it weird for me to not hate her, but hate Jason?
“Everybody get your packets from yesterday and turn to page one hundred seventeen. We’ll finish where we left off.” Doing so, the teacher walked over to the door. Turning the knob, she greets with a “Oh, hello?”
Her curious voice made my ears at tentative to whoever stood at the doorway. “Who’s he?” Someone whispers in the back of the room.
Oh no. No, not him. Couldn’t it be someone else? Someone who didn’t make my stomach knot up inside?
“You changed schedules mister… Daniels?” He gave a small nod, nervously glancing in my direction. “Okay. Go take a seat wherever.”
Casey turns in her chair and raises a brow at me. When she usually does that, it either meant that guy was cute, hot or sexy. The small grin that came along with her brow move told me that he was somewhat decent enough to look ‘cute’. Looks didn’t matter at the moment. The empty spot next to me did.
“What is your name, mister Daniels?” The teacher asked while slipping one of our packets in front of him.
“Jack.” He murmurs softly while taking a seat in the empty spot next to mine.
My heart throbbed against my chest and it almost feels like that rushed feeling you get when you go through a loop of a roller coaster. I let my hair fall to my left shoulder where he was seating just to cover the sight of him. I didn’t want it to end up like. I might as well die from an anxiety attack. My head felt light and the blood rushing from head seemed to drop. My body shook slightly as I adjusted my hair and crossed one leg over my thigh.
“Hmmmm. Natalie!” The teacher calls out. I winced at her high pitched voice. “Would you kindly show Jack which chapter we’re on?”
I nodded wearily and held my breath while turning in my seat to face Jack. I held his packet while turning the pages. My hands couldn’t stop shaking and goose bumps appeared all over my arms.
“You okay?” He asks. He kept glancing down at my trembling hands.
I nodded. “Yeah.” I was guessing my blood pressure was too low from not eating lunch. I am diabetic after all.
“You sure?” He reassures.
I nodded once more. “Mmhmm.”
The page number finally appeared before my eyes. “Thanks.” He looks up at me with a smirk, carefully studying my dying face.
Nodding back at him, I sat back into my sight and rose my hand.
“Yes Nat?”
“Can I go to the nurse?” I asked feebly.
“Sure sweetie.” I followed her to the back of the room, knocking into desks on the way. She took a small white slip of paper from a cabinet and held it to me. “Just sign your name here.”
I took the paper, and gripped the pen as hard as I could to avoid my trembling hands from scribbling all over the page. I checked off the word ‘other’ and wrote ‘blood check’. “Here, Miss.”
She signed off the slip and handed it to me. “Hope you get better.”
I hoped so too. The only time my blood pressure dropped would be the only time when I’m having a somewhat horrific day. Today’s one of those days and I’ve yet to go home already.
The nurse looks up from writing a pass for a kid in the same room. She stares at me with expecting eyes.
Nodding to an empty chair to her left, she says, “I’ll be with you in a second, Miss Bridges.”
The kid in the same room looks up at me and smiles. “Hi.” He greets.
I nod back at him. He didn’t seem no older than a sophomore, but he was decent enough to be… attractive.
Finally, the kid leaves and the nurse already knows what to expect. “Blood checking time?”
“Yeah.” I replied with a nervous smirk.
She sighs rolling over her chair to a nearest grey file cabinet to take out my black Insulin purse set and a blood pressure. “Did you eat lunch today?” As a response to shaking my head, she glares at me. Not in an evil, “I’m-going-to-give-you-detention” way, but in a worried kind. “Why not?”
I shrugged. “I wasn’t that hungry today.” Immediately, she tosses a packet of crackers towards me. “Thank you.” I said quietly after stuffing them in my pocket.
“It’s extremely important to eat, Nat.” This would probably be the tenth time she’s scolded me about not eating.
“I know, but I just feel really tired every day. I can’t–eat and then feel...healthy.” I lost track of my words. Speaking at the very moment made me feel weary as well.
She takes out the needle to prick my finger. “Having problems of any sort?”
I shake my head. “No.” I wasn’t at the slightest (except Jason which probably counted as a problem). “Not at all actually.”
Taking the needle, I bit on my lip while feeling the sharp and dull pain poke and tug on the bit of skin. The needle sucked up the blood before it started spreading all over my finger tips. In all seriousness, I’ve been doing the same routine every day for the last five years. The pain was a whole lot worse compared to being cut by a kitchen knife. How? I don’t know, but I do know that it hurts to cut yourself by a knife…un-intentionally.
“Well, whatever kind of problem whether it’s friends, family and even love relations, I’m always here for you.” She smiles at me warmly.
Trusting a teacher with problems didn’t sound like something you can look forward to or maybe even depend on. Maybe I did have a problem. “Okay. Thanks.” I slowly made my way out the door and back upstairs.
I didn’t even make it for the bell to rang while being in class. So I literally almost got ambushed by numerous of juniors and seniors. Well, at least it was the end of the day and I’m able to leave and go home to prepare myself for the next agonizing day.
I walked down the stairs and followed a pair of tall and round seniors who chattered with each other inaudibly. Following them, they both led me out of the large double doors of the schools entrance where everyone meets up to leave. I stood near a tree hiding under its thin branches to keep exposing myself in the hot blaring heat. The students around me are loud conversing delightfully and giving each other farewell hugs. They wave, they say ‘bye’ to each other and depart. Why wave good-bye if you know you’re going to see one another the next day?
“Natalie!” A deep voice called out from behind me.
I carefully looked over my shoulder to find a black cropped hair guy with pale skin, round hazel eyes and a fit stance. “Jason.” I saluted coldly.
“Why are you by yourself?” He asks taking a step in front of my glance.
I looked back at my feet. “I don’t know.” I replied with a simple shrug. I didn’t want to talk to him at the moment. Not when he was looking amazing than ever.
He smirks at me. Smirking would only mean he finds something amusing to his liking. “You’re still mad at me, right?”
What kind of signal was I giving out? That I’m not mad at him? And for once I actually thought we were to never speak to each other again. “Why?”
“I don’t know… you look mad.”
“Yeah, but I’m not.” I said looking up at him and heftily folding my arms across my chest.
“Than what? Are you sad? Angry? Sick? You can still tell me these things even though we’re not together anymore.” He reminded frustration in his voice.
My blood was rising up. “Why do you think that most of the time when we were together, I didn’t want to be around you anymore?” I catechized. “You didn’t care how I felt. I’m sick one day and you wont give a crap about how I’m feeling. When I’m not sick, you treat me like I’m your slave or something.” I can tell I’m getting angry by my fists balling up and my eyes blinking water in my tear ducts.
He shakes his head shamefully. “Look, I care about you–a lot–but you wont let me take care of you. You leave me thinking that maybe you can take care of yourself and you don’t want any of my help.”
“Then why did you go to that party? Huh? Why did you go when I said don’t? I needed you so much that day and I was really sick.” I can feel a small tear roll down my cheeks.
“Hey, you can’t use your diabetes as the only time we ever get close with each other. That doesn’t make matters fair!” He barked holding a finger at me. I can tell we were making such a fuss. People looked over at us with pondering and curious eyes.
From far away, my bus suddenly took off of the school grounds. I was now without a ride. He caught me glancing at my bus pulling away and sighed. “See, now my bus left and that’s the only ride I had.”
“And now it’s my fault?”
I shook my head. It’s conversations like this that always leaves me speechless. “No.” I mumbled.
For a few seconds of quiet silence, I intake a long silent breath. I wanted for us to stop arguing like the usual. “I can take you if you want.”
Mom wouldn’t mind. She’d be too busy going to her room to take a long nap. “I guess.”
He glanced at me worriedly and made his way towards the parking lot with me following behind. Up ahead, I can see his grey colored Mustang being the only one to stand out of the parked area. It was a nice car and sitting in it brought memories–good memories.
Like a gentlemen, he opened the passengers door first. Approaching it, I slid in carefully as he slammed the door closed and ran over to the drivers door. The atmosphere felt uncomfortable for the most part and the air almost felt un-breathable. The engine revved up and he switched the AC on. It was already cold enough by standing around the halls of the school. I held my teeth close together to avoid him having to reluctantly switch the AC off.
I slipped up my cell from my tight pocket to dial grandma’s phone. I lived far away from my home and I wouldn’t make it on time to pick my siblings up.
Holding the phone to my ear, the rings rang for no more than four seconds.
“Hello?” An elderly voice picked up.
“Grandma, it’s Natalie. Do you think you can pick up the twins for me?”
“Sure sweetie. Where’s your momma?”
“Working.”
“Oh. Well, I’ll see you later.”
“Bye.” I quickly hung up before she had hung up before me.
“How’s grandma doing these days?” Jason piped up afterwards.
I look back at him. I was utterly surprised that he eventually remembered about my family. Was he asking just to get conversation going? “She’s okay.” Whatever is it, I’m not buying it.
“That’s good to know.” He replies by nodding his head.
When we went out, grandma really liked Jason. She mentioned the words as ‘funny’ ‘polite’ ‘charming’ and ‘handsome’. I agreed–back then, but now it all seemed regretting to me.
It was starting to cool up already. I folded my arms around body and squirmed around to find that right spot to feel warm in.
“You cold?” He asks taking a single glimpse at me.
I quickly shook my head. “No.”
He frowns. “You can tell me. I don’t mind.” Without any further comments, he switches the AC off… reluctantly.
Ignoring the loud sigh echo in the car recalled the previous difficult times. Times such as being alone for a while, finding out about my long term disease, family slowly breaking in half and carefulness. Being cautioned about those times having to appear in our lifetimes, I hadn’t felt prepared to face them yet.
“You know I didn’t make out with Rosalind at that party.”
“That’s not what I heard.”
“Then who’re you going to believe?”
“Jason, please, I don’t want to start this up again.” I begged throwing my face into my sweaty palms.
Slowly, he places one had on my shoulder and caresses his fingers into my collar bone. I shrugged it away. “Look, I’m trying to be sympathetic here.”
“Well you’re not trying hard enough.” I barked back. I switched my arm to prop up on the door and my head leaning into my forearm. I was extremely tired. Any kind of energy I had left already disappeared from having to talk as much.
Silence.
I can hear him sigh heavily and grip the wheel of the car. It almost seemed like forever when he finally opened his mouth to say something.
“To tell you the truth, I miss us being together already.” He admits. I ignored him, but paid attention to his voice. “I miss us talking to each other every night, I miss that smile on your face, I miss everything that was left of you.” Words like those stung my heart.
“Then why did you go and screw things up?”
“Because I’m stupid.” His reply was quick. “I’m stupid, a jerk, and careless.” That didn’t sum up how I felt about him. “I just want to know if you can forgive me or not.”
I thought deeply about this. What would be the correct answer? It had to be determined and final and not rushed and pressured. “You want the answer now?”
“I’m dying to hear it.”
I had just lost my own battle. “I–forgive you.” There would be no way for me to imagine being lonely for a long while.
He leans in to kiss my right side of my jaw line. I look up at him smirking and blushing wildly. So it had been official again. Just like any other rebounding couple, ours were your typical relationship.