Classroom Affair - Chapter 5 "I'm Not Afraid."

The rest of the day went by quickly, the students melting back into the schedule of day-to-day life in Myrtle Shores high.

The summer excitement slowly drained out of them and routine took its place.

Shannon waited in line for the glob of orange slop that was supposed to pass off as food.

The chatter of over a hundred students buzzed in group conversations, all around the cafeteria, as Shannon made her way to a set of tables saved for the senior class.

Pulling out her constant companion the “Green Mile,” Shannon began to pick at her meal, which was promised to be mac and cheese.

“How many times have you read that thing?” A voice asked, sitting in front of her, as she continued to probe her lunch.

“Sixteen. Keeping count for a survey or something, Brandon?”

The boy slid himself fully into the low-seating table and gently pried the book from her hands. “You’re going to have to take a break from reading and lower yourself to hang out with me some time this year.”

Shannon rolled her eyes, when he grabbed the banana from her tray and began munching on it. “This year that only started yesterday?”

“Technicalities.”

If it were anyone else coming between her and food, this situation would have gone differently. However, Brandon had been in her life almost as long as Iris and held a unique presence which never felt overdone or left her feeling drained by him.

He took up the less than 1% of the minority in her otherwise alabaster school and proudly flew his Puerto Rican flag off his locker to show it. Off-centered, fun and the leading captain of the cross-country team, Brandon whined and pouted for weeks when she hadn’t chosen the sport, he devoted himself to.

Speaking around a mouthful of fruit, he asked. “So…mmare you pwaning for chooday?”

Shannon stared at him. “I have no idea what you just said. Try swallowing first. All the cool kids are doing it.”

Brandon rolled his eyes, but complied. “I asked, what are you planning for today?”

She shrugged and gave up on the yellow/orange mess in front of her. “Not sure, I haven’t even been assigned homework today.”

This seemed to be just the answer he was hoping for.

Brandon cleared his throat from lingering banana pieces. “Then please allow me the honor of escorting you for a beach trip. It’s been a while since we talked.”

Shannon laughed. “What do you mean? We talk every morning in Brook’s class.”

Brandon held up one finger and did his best “silly girl” voice. “Ah, but you forget, I am a zombie before my coffee, so I don’t remember anything from that class what-so-ever.”

“You could be amazing at it, you know? You’re plenty smart enough to excel in any class you choose. You just don’t pay attention.” Shannon scolded as he shrugged. “Lucky I’ve got you to give me notes so I don’t have to pay attention. This has been a great system we’ve had for years, why ruin it?”

Iris came up and took her place to the right of her friend, chowing down on the questionable food on her tray.

Shannon and Brandon watched her in awe. “How can you eat this stuff? You don’t even know what it is.”

Iris’s eyes sparked up with challenge. “Hence the fun. I have no idea what to expect next. Will the next bite be veggie? Fruit? Some kind of meat product? It’s a surprise every time!”

With that, she pounded down two more bites.

Shannon shook her head. “Truly amazing.”

Brandon plopped the empty peel on her tray. “So, I’ll see you after school? Want to meet behind the music room? We can get a straight shot to the beach from there.”

She nodded and he messed up Iris’s spikey hair, before galloping off to another table.

Iris swallowed her mystery lunch and watched Shannon carefully. “So, you have a date with Brandon?”

“It’s not a date. We’re just going to hang out on the beach.”

Iris eyed her. “By yourselves?”

“I guess. What’s the big deal? You and I hang out there all the time. Are you saying that we have dates together?”

“You seem like good Christian girl, not mysterious loner…” His voice echoed in her mind.

Shannon looked away. “Hey Iris, do you think I’m too…”

The pixie-like girl put down her glass with a refreshed sounding “ah” and looked to her friend. “Too what?”

The words wanted to come out, but she couldn’t quite seem to form them. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”

Iris raised her eyebrow, but shrugged and went back to stacking her tater tots.

~~~

When the bell rang for her choir class, Shannon took a breath and steadied herself, before entering the room scattered with instruments and music books.

Gripping her hand, so as not to reach for the piano, Shannon took her seat in the second row of the altos.

The rest of the girls shuffled in, chatting about their new classes and summer romances, as they all molded into place.

Shannon pulled out her music folder and pretended to go over the new sheets of music, while she picked up snip bits of information from the girls around her.

“Jake asked me out last month!”

“You’re so lucky, but Mark is taking me to the homecoming dance, hopefully we’ll finish where we left off last year.”

It sounded like everyone experienced some kind of fling over the break. Why was she so behind the curve?

Shannon had a boyfriend two years ago, but it ended badly with his psycho mother sending him across the states, just to get him away from her. So, what if she wasn’t Mormon? Did that really matter?

She hadn’t dated anyone since, none of the boys seemed to be exactly what she wanted and they didn’t give her two looks. Seemed like a fair trade off.

A hush fell over the room as Mr. Thompson came up to the podium. “Good afternoon ladies, shall we warm up?”

There were a few sighs, as the group put away their phones and started reciting the vocal exercises they’d been drilled on for years.

Shannon was able to do it without even thinking about what she sang.

As she warmed up, her eyes fell over the man who confused her this morning. He wore a button up blue shirt and dark slacks, with a matching tie and a blazer to finish the look. When he rolled up the sleeves, Shannon noticed the toned muscles which, showed that he was in shape, but lean, with the hands of an artist.

His dark hair fell over his face slightly as he conducted, his glasses resting gently on the bridge of his nose. “Ok, sounds good everyone. Now I want to work on the specific sections for today. Let’s start with the altos. Ms. O’Ryan, will you lead on the solo for measure seven?”

Mr. Thompson looked to her expectantly.

She brought the music to her line of sight and waited for him to take his place at the piano.

She was surprised by how talented of a pianist he was. Mrs. D knew a few scales and how to pick out a part, but this man could play a song even if he only heard it once. If he hadn’t been so cold to her earlier, she may have even put his knowledge to the test and offered a play-off between them.

Taking a breath, Shannon began to sing the solo section with slight hesitation. Just because she had been in choir for years, didn’t mean she still didn’t get stage fright when she sang by herself.

The words escaped from her mouth and molded with the melody in perfect harmony and she thanked God she hadn’t cracked on the last high note, she doubted was actually meant for an alto.

When she finished, Mr. Thompson removed his hands from the piano and, to her dismay, sighed. “That was pitiful. You need more strength in your voice. If you would stop worrying so much about getting it perfect, you might stand a shot at singing well. Sit down Ms. O’Ryan.”

She hoped no one would notice the splash of red that surely covered her face.

Iris reached a hand over and squeezed her knee gently, before she rose to sing the next measure.

Through the rest of the class, Shannon tried her hardest not to show how hurt her feelings were. Keep a stiff upper lip or whatever that was supposed to mean.

Mrs. D would have never been so cruel. Everything she did was wonderful in the pudgy old woman’s opinion.

When the bell finally rang and the day ended, Shannon took the excuse to run out the door, refusing to so much as glance in his direction.

She leapt down to the final two stairs and leaned against the metal handrail avoiding eye contact with the rest of the class, as they spilled out of the room and off to their buses.

There was a burning in her chest.

Shannon paced back and forth along the pavement, kicking a soda can that someone left, muttering to herself. “I’m not afraid.”

She kicked the can and sent it flying to the back of the choir building and then into the track field. Once she was away from everyone, she took a forced breath, lacing her arms behind her head and glowered at the ocean.

The ever-present pull usually filled her with peace, but not today. Today she was angry.

Once she was certain there was no one to her right or left to hear, she cleared her throat and tried her solo again.

The melody flowed smoothly and she inhaled from her stomach, to give it more strength. Once she had reached the climax, she took another breath and belted as loud as she could, smiling at the vibrations of sound bouncing off the walls.

Shannon raised her arms and yelled. “Eat that, Mr. Tinman!”

When the blast of wind came from the ocean and blew up her hair, she felt as if nature agreed with her. She put her hands on her hips and sang it again and again, feeling the fire of her confidence grow with each attempt.

What she didn’t notice, was the back door of the choir room slide open and the man who was waiting at the top of the stairs, listening to her.

Mr. Thompson peeked his head around and stared at the girl who perplexed him in so many different ways. Her lovely red hair caught the sunlight and danced with the sea breeze; her far-seeing green eyes closed, as the most exquisite sound came from her.

He knew he shouldn’t be staring this way, not at a normal woman and especially not at a student, but as he settled on the cement steps, his eyes refused to be torn from the beauty before them.

The wind changed its path, lifting the notes from her song towards him and he closed his eyes to fully embrace them.

Why couldn’t she express this during class the way she did here? This was exactly the sound he wanted from her.

The look of joy on her face from the simple act of singing, made his heart ache, urging his feet to move closer, to get a better look.

He was twenty-nine, so the age difference was over a decade, but that didn’t blind him from the fact that she had a subtle beauty. He was beginning to realize it the more time he spent with her.

She wasn’t the kind of lovely that made a man stop in his tracks, though he didn’t doubt she could be if she wanted to invest time in painting her face. She was a natural, simple beauty and he felt that was almost more dangerous.

He hoped there was someone in her life to protect her, the way she would need to be protected.

“Hey Shannon! Sorry I’m late!”

Mr. Thompson’s electric eyes scanned the intruder of his private concert with annoyance.

The boy with dark, curly hair and skin the color of coffee, made his way towards Shannon and grabbed her hand.

A boyfriend, maybe? He wasn’t surprised. A girl with that kind of look was bound to attract boys to her.

He didn’t know the young man, but he seemed kind and that made him glad.

When he stood up off the stairs and brushed off his slacks, he noticed the boy pull her down to the sunny shore and was surprised that he continued to watch them until they disappeared behind the tree line.

After they were gone, he came back into his classroom and sat down at the computer to finish the lesson plan for tomorrow. He was planning on introducing some new music to the group, now that he had an understanding of their skill level.

“I wonder if Shannon will like the part, I give her?” He asked himself aloud and then stopped.

Why did he care if she liked it or not?