Mad with melody, rhythm and rife: lacking precedent
Two weeks. He’s only two weeks into the utter failure called the second quarter of his senior semester when Laughlin, music teacher and bitch extrodinare, pulls him to the side as he’s making a bee line for the door after the bell. Deposits him by the side of her desk as she waits for the rest of the sorry bunch that makes up her AP Music class file out.
This whole waiting thing is putting the kebosh’ on his plans of ditching the next two periods so he can meet up with Val to split the last of his weed- A very important date he can’t be fucking late for. Not for what ever bullshit Laughlin is pulling.
Tucks what he can fit of his hands into the pockets of his jeans and makes a point to sigh loud enough it makes one of Laughlin’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows twitch. “Listen- I’ve got better things to be doing-” he starts but she cuts him off with a raised hand as another student sulks up to her desk.
Alaric Somethingsomeone, big, meat head, sandy haired jock. Everyone knows he’s just moved here. Everyone knows the football team wants him, that he left a team back home because he sports the jacket still- strait laced and the very last person in the world Enzo wants to be within five feet of.
He has a sinking feeling he knows just what this is about suddenly and he wants nothing to do with it.
“Shut your mouth Mr.Saint’ Augustine.” Laughlin snaps before Enzo even has his mouth open and he almost flips her table over right then and there. The only reason he tolerates any of this is because music class gave him access to instruments he otherwise wouldn’t have access to. She plows ahead, ignorant or simply ignoring the death glare he’s giving her.
“Your grades are a wreck, beyond the point of saving, but if you can’t at least sustain some kind of symbolince of passing, I’m going to have to completely kick you out of the music program.” She says and Enzos used to disappointment in life, but it still hurts. He has no clue why the new peace of shit is allowed to be witness to this till she continues. “Now, Mr. Saltzman here is in desperate need of make up credits due to his school transfer. The principle has agreed to allow him to use my highly skilled class as a make up despite his lack of training on any kind, like I’m some second rate art elective where Mr. Saltzman can just finger paint his way through a grand total of four extra credits…”
Enzos could give two fucks about Alaric’s impending failure. Chest tight he wants nothing more then to just fade away or at the very least, be incredibly faded… He’ll deal with this later- or never. Laughlin’s threatened to take away AP from him before and has never made good on it yet, but he’s seen the bitch do it to others…
“You two will work together-” Laughlin is still going, he probably should have kept paying attention but he’s done with this conversation.
Waves a frustrated hand into the air and shakes his head. Shoving past Alaric as he walks around the desk. “Fuck you, fuck this. Fuck all of this.” He snarls, probably should have tried to sound less defensive but it’s too late to take it back, just storms off down the hall to the teeth rattling sound of the second bell ringing.
He'd been forced to transfer to this god forsaken backwoods town in the middle of no where because his father had transferred to the near by college to teach English. So like a good little son Alaric had smiled and told his father that he was happy for him - despite the fact that he was uprooted near the middle of his senior year of high school and was moving thousands of miles away from any friends that had made.
Not to mention the fact that he had been on the varsity football team. A team that had made him swear an oath not to join whatever hillbilly school he was sent too. And naturally the first thing the school had tried to do was recruit him for there pathetic excuse for a varsity team. He made it pretty clear that he wasn't interested by wearing his old team lettermen. Bonus that it had his name on the back of it.
And that wasn't even the worse part of it. Their credit system was entirely messed up and he was suddenly missing elective classes. Back home he was only required to take the core classes - not here. Here it seemed in addition to Trigonometry, English, Physic, and World History he was also required to take one Physical Education class and one elective.
The PE class was a piece of cake - he probably would have taken it anyway just to fill the hours in the day. But the elective? He hadn't the faintest idea as to what he was going to take. So he'd expressed his concerns to the principle who had recommended AP Music. He did know how to read sheet music - mostly because his mother taught him on their grand piano - but other than that he didn't have a musical note in his body.
Which the music teacher - Mrs. Laughlin - picked up on right after the first week and took him aside. Told him that she wasn't going to just give him a pass because he needed it - that he actually had to show that he was talented enough to be in this class by himself. Of course another two weeks had passed and he had probably gotten worse and not better. So when she told him to see her after class he was expected her to tell him that she was kicking him out of the class.
What he hadn't expected was that she was also going to keep Lorenzo or whatever his name was. Yeah, Ric had noticed him - it was hard not to. Not with the one size too small jeans the other wore. Or the hair that stuck up in every direction no matter how many times he saw the teen run his hands through the dark locks. Ric had noticed his accent the most - European - British from the sounds of it. And of course the student body talked. He didn't know if he wanted to believe the rest.
Ric stood there and let Mrs. Laughlin beat the other down verbally and he was starting to wonder what he was doing here and he was pretty damn sure that a teacher shouldn't talk down to a pupil that way. He was pretty sure that the teachers were suppose to make the students feel encouraged to do better. This teacher definitely failed that lesson.
Ric had practically stopped listening to her until she had said those magic words. “You two will work together-” He had opened his mouth to argue - something - at the very least but it seemed the Brit had beat him to it. And had a few more choice words toward them before storming out of the classroom. Leaving Ric to stare blankly at the excuse of a teacher.
"Let me get this straight - I have to get him to teacher me to play - AND I have to get him to pass his other classes and THEN you'll pass me in your class?" The short nod she gave was confident enough for him that there wasn't anything to argue about with her. So he flung his backpack over his shoulder and rushed after the other - who naturally was not headed to his next class. Luckily for Alaric he had a free period. Guess some of his credits transfer correctly.
"Hey, man, wait up." He jogged until he was able to step in front of Enzo - walking backward so that the other didn't plow into him. Not that he'd do any damage but still Ric needed him. "Let's talk about this. Cause I need that class to get into Duke. I don't care if you want to pass or not but I do."
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