Walking in, I made it to the office unscathed, although I felt the eyes of every student watching me. A few were curious, but most radiated open hostility. I wasn’t surprised. I knew how this worked. Kyler, the beloved jock, made it known he hated my guts. Fall in line, or pay the price. Adapt or die. It’s easier this way. I couldn’t miss or long for what I didn’t have. This was my thirteenth high school, although I was in my senior year despite being sixteen. What can I say? I tested well. Plus, with my photographic memory, I remembered everything I learned.
“Ah, Angel Draven, our new student,” the woman behind the office desk greeted with a kind smile. “Here is your schedule and paperwork, sweetie, let us know if you need anything.” Nodding, I grabbed the papers, but she didn’t release them. Shocked, my eyes flicked to hers, and she added, “I mean it, young lady. If I didn’t understand your plight, I would be aghast that you aren’t in a foster home. So, if you need something, ask.” Swallowing nervously, I nodded again while dropping my eyes.
“Yes, ma’am,” I whispered, and she nodded before her fingers released my papers. Gulping, I dared not meet her gaze again before turning around. I shuddered once I was out of sight of the office, I loathed confrontation like that, and glanced at my classes. Relief filled me when I saw choir and art. Choir to start my day, and art towards the end. Choir, calculus, honors English, honors history, lunch, honors chemistry, art, free period, and honors biology to finish my day. A tough schedule, but Ava said I could do homework between customers, and I need not study with my memory, so it was feasible.
Upon looking at the map, I found my first class. My eyes located my other classes, and I memorized their locations. Closing my eyes, I saw the map in my mind and recalled each classroom location with a slight smile. After glancing at my locker assignment, I chuckled upon discovering it was in the same hall as my first class. I didn’t need it yet, so I walked to the music room, stepping inside when I discovered the lights on. After glancing around, I didn’t see the teacher, so I bit my lip while looking around the room. Eyeing the piano, my fingers twitched with the need to play something and, after ensuring I was alone, I approached the bench.
A pleased sigh escaped my lips when I ran my fingers over the keys, and the instrument purred throaty notes in response. After playing for a moment to allow my fingers to soak in the joy of playing my favorite instrument, I picked a song and slipped into it. After humming along with the opening notes of Angel by Sarah McLachlan, my mouth opened, and the lyrics spilled into the air.
“Spend all your time waiting
For that second chance
For a break that would make it okay
There’s always some reason
To feel not good enough
And it’s hard, at the end of the day
I need some distraction
Oh, beautiful release
Memories seep from my veins
And maybe empty
Oh, and weightless, and maybe
I’ll find some peace tonight
In the arms of the angel
Fly away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You’re in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort here
So tired of the straight line
And everywhere you turn
There’s vultures and thieves at your back
The storm keeps on twisting
Keep on building the lies
That you make up for all that you lack
It don’t make no difference
Escape one last time
It’s easier to believe in this sweet madness
Oh, this glorious sadness
That brings me to my knees
In the arms of the angel
Fly away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You’re in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort here
You’re in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort here.”
My fingers played the last chord, and I sighed while stroking the keys. Energetic clapping had me jerking around to discover a middle-aged man with kind eyes watching me with an awed expression. “You must be Angel because I know every voice in this school. Oh my, what a voice, I believe the angels themselves would weep upon hearing you sing. Such beauty, and the emotion behind every note… yes, it’s decided. We shall go to the office and switch your schedule because I’m not wasting your god given talent on my beginner choir. No, you shall be in my most advanced class where you will sing beside the best Wolfram offers. Although, your voice makes theirs sound akin to songbirds. I believe the wolves cry to sing with you,” he gushed, and my cheeks burned.
“N-No, I’m merely an unfamiliar voice, that’s all,” I denied, and something flared in his eyes, but I dropped mine before I figured out what it was. The skin between my shoulders crawled, and I squirmed in discomfort.
“And humble. Tch. Why did you wait until your senior year to grace my ears with your heavenly instrument? Your mother hit the nail on the head when she named you. Come, I am Mr. Thatch, and I am your choir director. You just auditioned into my advanced choir, so congratulations, Angel,” Mr. Thatch decreed with a decisive nod. I swallowed nervously, and the lines
