A to Z

Chapter One

Aaron Denison ruffled through his folder, trying to focus on finding the correct sheet music and ignore all the weird things going on around him. However, it was difficult not to notice the guy on the other side of the room repeatedly attempting to run up the wall. Then there was the small crowd of students gathered outside of the room, staring curiously at both him and the strange hyper guy. Aaron sighed; high school was bizarre.

The black-haired boy across the room backed up and made another running start at the wall, managing to make his way up about two feet before coming crashing down into the back row of band chairs. Aaron winced at the sound. After a small “ow,” and what Aaron thought might have been a “sorry chairs,” the boy made another run at the wall.

Aaron frowned. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, placing the correct music on the stand above the piano keys. The group outside of the door, which sounded like as though it mostly consisted of girls, giggled and chattered. They seemed to be commenting to one another about the strange pair of people in the room.

Sitting himself at the piano, the blonde teenager glanced back over at the guy across the room; the hyper kid seemed to have lost interest in climbing the wall, and he was now sitting on the floor and smelling his own shoe. Aaron quickly turned away. Is that how teenagers in public schools usually act? he wondered. He could understand why people would find it strange for the two of them to be in the same room; he wasn’t sure, however, if the black-haired hyper boy was the strange one, or if he himself stood out.

Aaron wasn’t used to being around people his own age, especially in this setting; he’d been home schooled by his parents all his life. However, the city was holding a benefit concert for victims of the recent flood, and his parents wanted Aaron to be a part of the concert. They lunged at any opportunity to show off his music talents. That’s what he got for having music teachers for parents. Unfortunately, the city wanted the music to be performed by local area public high schools - a promotional tool, of course – so his parents pulled some strings to get him into the Oakwood high school band for the next month and a half, and thus, in the concert.

Today was his first day scoping out the band section of the school. By “section,” they obviously meant “small room with chairs and a piano.” At least it was a nice piano. But what in the world was wrong with this kid? Aaron wondered, glancing back across the room. Now the black-haired teen was staring at his expectantly with wide, innocent eyes. Aaron turned back to the piano.

“Hey, you’re Aaron Denison, right?” the hyper-active boy asked excitedly.

Aaron replied without looking up. “Yes.” He carefully marked a line in his music, then settled into playing position.

“I’m Zack.” The black-haired boy moved to the other side of the piano. “If you play piano, why aren’t you in band?”

Fingers situated above their keys, Aaron said, “I don’t go to this school,” and proceeded to languidly dispel Mozart’s Sinastra from the instrument.

Zack watched his fingers move across the keys, completely entranced by the movement, and remained still through the performance. As Aaron finished, Zack clapped lightly and sat at the bench beside him.

“I can only do this,” Zack explained, and gave a clumsy performance of Greensleeves.

“Yes,” Aaron commented when he was finished. “I really have a lot to practice, so if you could-“

“I’m much better on the guitar,” Zack explained, moving across the room and donning a black and yellow Fender. Aaron sighed patiently and tuned on the bench to watch.

Zack played a few chords, then turned up the distortion and played Nirvana’s Bloom, writhing and hopping around the area in the process. Aaron appeared surprised and impressed when he finished. Seeing this, Zack returned the electric guitar to its stand and handed Aaron a black acoustic from the corner.

“Wanna try?” Zack asked, smiling encouragingly.

The blonde boy narrowed his eyes at his offender. Accepting the “challenge,” Aaron positioned the guitar on his knee and strummed a complicated, fast-paced version of Greensleeves. He didn’t once look down at his fingers.

Zack grinned through the entire performance.

“That was really great!” he declared. “Do you play any other instruments?”

“Just the violin, trombone, flute, and oboe. My parents were music teachers,” Aaron explained.

“Holy hell.” Zack replaced the guitar in the corner and skipped back. Aaron noted that the guy stumbled like a toddler when he walked. “I can only play guitar and tinker on piano and drums. But you should put more soul into your playing, you act like you don’t feel it.”

Aaron’s eyes narrowed again. “Feel it?” he asked skeptically.

“Yeah, you look bored as hell when you play.” Zack closed his eyes and strummed passionately on air guitar. “Feel the music vibrate through you, feel your fingers burn when you play the wrong notes.”

“I don’t play wrong notes,” Aaron countered, glaring at him.

Zack simply smiled and tapped his toes on the floor. “If you don’t go to school here, then why are you in the band room?”

Ready to end the conversation, Aaron turned back around and stared hard at his music, fingers over the keys. He quickly said, “I’ll be playing in the benefit concert with the band,” and began moving through the dark and ominous piece in front of him. He could see Zack grinning and watching his fingers out of the corner of his eye. How is he so still now? Aaron wondered.

But Zack seemed to lose interest a few minutes later when he wandered to the other side of the room. Aaron heard him play one note on a guitar, fitting it strangely, but not awkwardly, into the tone of Aaron’s piece. Zack played a few more notes, slowly moving his way into the music and soon was accenting every chord from the piano.

Aaron was surprised, exhilarated at the new feel that the song was taking; the dark, ominous piece had become more of a wild, airy Celtic one, with twists and turns coming from the guitar that made him want to play the piece over and over and hear every harmony until he knew it by heart. But when he came to the end of the music, he finished up the piece. Zack played a few more notes on his guitar, ending his part. Aaron watched him grin as his put his guitar back in its stand and walked back up the piano.

“That was fun,” Zack said lightly. Aaron just nodded.

“Zack, let’s go, what are you doing?” asked the tall young man who had just entered the room. He wore baggy black pans and a hoody, and his brown hair was streaked with red dye. He stopped across the room when he saw Aaron.

“Hey Tristan,” Zack greeted him with a grin.

“Zack,” Tristan drawled, glaring at Aaron, “did you get lost again?”

Zack looked around a moment, and then seemed confused. “I’m not lost, I’m in the band room.”

Aaron frowned at the looks he was getting from the hyper-active kid’s goth friend, and began to return his sheet music to his folder.

“Are you coming, or are you going to stay here with the pretty rich boy?” Tristan asked, turning and moving back towards the door. He was surprised to see several students gathered outside, watching the three boys talk. When the audience saw Tristan looking, it scattered through the hall.

“Hey, Tristan!” Zack called to his friend. “Did you know that Aaron is going to be in the benefit concert with us?”

Tristan snorted without turning around, and Aaron closed his bag and rose to leave.

Seeing this, Zack said, “oh!” and moved in front of Aaron to smile at him and say, “I’ll see you tomorrow at the rehersal, right?”

“Yes, I’ll be at the rehearsal,” Aaron replied, and moved around Zack and Tristan to leave.

Zack watched him go, then told Tristan, “You should have seen him play, he was amazing.”

Tristan rolled his eyes. “Why can’t you talk to normal people?”