“If the music teacher hears you singing like that, he’s going to force you to sign up for choir. Unless you’re already in it. Wouldn’t be surprising.”
Clementine had only come in to get the jacket she had left behind. Holey, not warm, always getting her in trouble suit jacket. None of that matted. She liked it too much to leave it behind, and it was the only (once) expensive thing she owned. If it wasn’t the jacket, it would be the rest of her clothing. It would be her hair. It would be her attitude. It would be something.
The door to their small English classroom was always open. The windows provided most of the light they had, but the grey clouds and rain made the place dim. Not enough to blind someone, but enough to make writing a pain.
His voice was gorgeous. That much, she knew. It was really like nothing she had ever heard before, and she heard plenty of songs on the radio from people who knew how to sing. Hell, she had heard her own voice. But his? It was different. It caught her attention, enough to make her forget about her jacket for just a moment. Maybe even a few moments.
She walked slowly over to the front desk, right where her jacket rested, and picked it up. She wasn’t yet ready to leave, though. No, not even close. She threw the boy she had stumbled across a glance, paired with the slyest smile.
“You got a name to go with that voice of yours?”