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A Musical Note, Part 1

I stared at the piece of paper. It was a music note. A quarter note, just drawn there with a twenty written beside it. I didn’t quite understand why this was significant, or why I had found it taped onto my locker when I got to school this morning. Now it was third period and I still didn’t quite understand its significance. I looked around. Nobody was doing anything. Why would they? It was, for us, Study Hall. That special time where you were supposed to work, but instead, you messed around with your friends, or, like that couple in the back of the room, made out with your girlfriend/boyfriend. The thing was, I didn’t have any friends in Study Hall. It was the curse of having a last name that began with a Y.

I put in my earbuds, a generic pair that had come with my iPod. The 201st song on it played. A song describing loving a girl who nobody ever paid attention too. I smirked. If only that was true for me.

I looked again at the musical note.

She’s the girl that no one ever knows.

Was the note trying to tell me something that involved the 201st song on my iPod? I knew a quarter note was worth one beat. Guitar class in eighth grade hadn’t left me completely stupid on the world of music.

And I say hi, but she’s too shy to say hello.

I sighed and tucked the note back into my hoodie pocket. I didn’t even have any guy friends. I just had a guy I talked to in Spanish. He didn’t even know what the 201st song on my iPod was. I could barely muster a full-sentence response when he asked me questions. A few seconds had passed on the song.

I wish my heart was always on her mind, cuz she’s on mine like all day, all the time.

His face floated into my brain. His name was Kevin. Kevin kept talking to me. Even with one-word answers, he still spoke to me. I had once asked why he still spoke to me. He said my silence was fascinating. The more I thought about it, he always gave me an adoring expression. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense that he would give me the note. I had Spanish next period. I’d ask him about it.

I felt my neck prickle. I turned around. Big blue eyes were staring at me. Those were the eyes of Ross, infinitely gorgeous, and perfectly taken, Ross. He could talk to anyone, but had taken to staring at me lately. It creeped me out. I could barely speak to the guy to ask for my pencil back, but he continued staring at me. It wasn’t like I’d like to talk to him, anyway. He had the intelligence of an earthworm. He was the Justin Bieber of our school: Completely hot, but overplayed and treated like a god he wasn’t.

He smiled and waved. I held up my hand awkwardly. There was no way this was happening. He got up and sat across from me. What about his girlfriend? His adoring fans?

“Hey,” he said.

I stared at the wood grain in the table. “Hey, Ross,” I mumbled.

“Did you get my note?” he asked, a small smile on his lips.

“What note?” I asked, actually making eye contact this time.

The bell rang before my question could be answered. He gave me a quick hug. “You know what note,” he whispered before disappearing out the door.

I blinked, shocked for a moment, before standing up and taking out the note again.
A musical note. A quarter note, to be more specific. It had one beat, and then it was done. This morning, it could’ve been from anybody. Now it appeared to be from Ross.
I shook my head and laughed.
He as probably lying.
It was probably from Kevin.



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