Drummer?

This is pretty much a drabble about Cara's feelings for James. Oh, and I seriously drew James as a Fairy Princess. I swear.

This is in whatnots because, again, not strong enough to stand on it's own. I've got a ton of these drabbly things.

. . . . . . . .

Her heart ached as she stared at the banner that the drummer was hidden behind. His sweet music filled her ears and it was like it was for her and only her. And she wanted nothing more than for that to be true.

The crush she had on the drummer was somewhat sickening. She was obsessed with him in every aspect of well, everything. She wished that she had never noticed how amazing he was at his chosen instrument. She wished she had never noticed how beautiful his curly hair looked. But most of all, she wished she had never stood up for him when the stuck-up kids from their youth group were picking on him about his hair.

This whole idea of them being together that she had stuck in her mind was just dumb. She knew that she was most definitely not his type. She wasn’t a musician, she wasn’t a mathematics whiz, and she wasn’t even as skinny as the other girls that attended the group. In fact, she wasn’t skinny at all. She was far from it.

She watched as his drumstick hit the left cymbal and she sighed, turning to look at the other people that surrounded her. Their faces were lit up in bright smiles as they danced and sang loudly.

She took a deep breath, raised her hands and began to sing the next verse, trying to ignore the sound of the snare drum echoing through the sanctuary. She tried to focus on the sound of the pianist, or the guitarist, but it was to no avail. All she could make out at this point was the drums.

The rhythm was haunting as she swayed her hips in time to his beat. She couldn’t even make out the sound of the other people’s voices anymore. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, wiping some beads of sweat from her forehead.

This whole feeling she got when she heard him play the drums was maddening. She never felt this way then the pianist played or when the choir sang or when the bassist strummed, or when the guitarists rocked out to the music. It was only when she could hear the beat of the drums.

Well, it wasn’t always like that. She could tell when the playing sounded different, when the heart wasn’t in it…when he wasn’t playing the drums. She hated to admit it, but she listened that closely to his playing that when someone else played, even though she couldn’t see them, she knew.

She was no drummer herself, she wasn’t even musical. Her brother had tried to get her to keep a beat once or twice for him, but she had a hesitation problem and found it hard to listen for anything. But when she heard him, she knew.

She opened her eyes and licked her lips then, looking back towards the lyrics that were displayed on a PowerPoint presentation behind the heads of the choir members. The song had changed and she had failed to notice it, even when the drums stopped and changed beat she didn’t pay much attention to it.

She gazed at the lyrics, shaking her head to break the spell that the drums held over her. And the other music came crashing down around her; the piano, the chorus of voices, the tambourines, the sound of hands clapping, the guitarists, the bassist, and, of course, the drums.

She opened her mouth and sang the lyrics, clapping in time with the other people around her.

She turned back to the drums and watched him as the drumming part started. This time the drumming was soft, complementing the piano. She listened intently to his sound and she smiled, tears welling in her eyes.

She laughed bitterly at her stupid display of emotion as the tears fell down her cheeks.

“I am so dumb,” she muttered under her breath as she stared down at the purple chair in front of her. The music changed again and she looked up, watching as the pianist began to talk and the bassist, guitarists, and drummer stopped playing. The sound of the piano filled the room and everyone closed their eyes, swaying and saying prayers out loud.

The last song played, the last voice stopped singing and the pastor dismissed the classes.

The girl left to go back to the youth room and sat at the very end of the second row on the right. In front of her sat the drummer’s brother and a chair away from him sat the drummer. She stared at the drummer, her heart pounding.

“What’s up?” a heavy girl asked, sitting down next to her. The girl just shrugged.

“Pining over the Fairy Princess,” she answered. The girl next to her giggled.

“Do you have it with you?” She asked as the drummer’s brother turned around and eyed the two girls suspiciously.

“Yeah,” she answered, staring directly into the drummer’s little brother’s eyes. She grabbed her black notebook and flipped open to a specific page. The girl next to her smiled wide and giggled.

“Fairy princess,” the heavy girl giggled. The drummer’s kid brother watched them with interest and motioned to the notebook.

“Do you want to see?” the girl who held the book asked. The boy nodded and she grinned, shaking her head.

“Nah,” she said, “it’s starting, kiddo. Turn around.” The boy pouted and turned away from her. She turned to look at his brother, and frowned, watching his lips as they curled into a smile at something funny someone said.

She watched his nose wrinkle as he laughed and she smiled slowly, trying to hide the heartbreak that she knew was coming.