FicWad

Chapter one ; The arrival







As we pulled up to the school, it looked daunting. Even though moving schools was almost normal for me, I still felt nervous. I suppose that having moved almost 15 times since I was a year old, I should be used to not settling down. It was always strange turning up out of the blue and being the new girl. I had never stayed in the same school for a year. Every time I started a new school, I never really ended up making any friends; I mean what's the point if you never get to keep them? If there's one thing I've learnt in my experiences, it's that people don't keep their promises. Like my mum. Ever since I was a little girl, she'd make promises like "Next place we'll go we'll stay," or "We'll never leave here," but as I got older, I learnt better.
Entering the principal's office, I wondered whether this head teacher would be like my previous head teacher, I wondered if my new school would be like my old school, I wondered if the children would be like all the other children.
"Bulling is not an issue here, I can assure you," The new head teacher rambled.
"That's very good; Hazel has been bullied in many of her previous schools..." My mother droned on. I doubted the Head teacher need to know that; I knew that they wouldn't care. As long as I cause no trouble, they won't lift a finger, or even look in my direction. At that moment in time, I didn't care what was going on around me. I'd been in this situation so many times, that I didn't need to even listen.
About half an hour later, my mother drove off in her car. I could hear her turn off at the corner. I thanked the receptionist as she passed me my new timetable. Having already missed registration, I walked towards my first lesson. Glancing at my timetable, I sighed in relief. I had music first. Music was always my best subject. My mother always told me stories about my father. My daddy, the pop star. I'd never met him. I only had a few pictures. My mother always told me that Danny “Big Boy” Michaels was my father. Sometimes I would hear his songs on the radio; I’d turn it off immediately. My mother had always reminded me never to go looking for my dad. He'd left us. Me and Mum. But even though he had, Music had always been my link to Dad.
I knocked on the closed door before entering. As soon as I entered all eyes in the room locked onto me. A tall man, with short, spiked hair and blue eyes walked over. I assumed him to be the teacher.
"I'm a new pupil," I mumbled, passing him the slip in my hand.
"Thank-You. I'm Mr Jonesy, and I'll be your music teacher." He smiled warmly and turned to the class. "Class, listen up. We have a new pupil. I'd like you to listen as she introduces herself."
The class stayed silent. I looked up at my teacher.
"Let’s start with your name. What's your name?"
"Hazel Michaels." I replied quietly.
"Where are you from Hazel?"
"London."
"Would you like to talk about your hobbies?"
"No sir," I replied.
Mr Jonesy had noticed my lack of interest and reluctance to answer any more questions.
"Sit at the back please." He said, continuing with the lesson.
As I walked towards the back, I could hear people whispering as I passed. It was better to ignore them. Having been through this stage before, I knew the procedure well. Music was soon over and the day spun by. I was soon informed that Mr Jonesy was my Registration tutor. I was relieved that at least I had a good teacher. Not a nosey one; Not a teacher that will ask me too many questions.
“Hazel?” He asked me as I went to leave class.
“Yes?”
“I can see that you are not fitting in particularly well.” He said.
“Yes sir,”
“You are very welcome to stay in my room at break and lunchtimes if you wish. Although I will not be in here, the door will be open so you can come in,”
“Thank you sir,” I replied. “I’ll consider it.”
That lunch time, as Mr Jonesy predicted, I had no where to go. I sauntered towards the music room and went in, closing the door behind me. As I had expected, Mr Jonesy was not in there. The room, the whole music block, was desolate. I glanced around the room, and saw tucked away in the corner, there was a small, wooden piano. I walked toward it and smiled; It had been a long time since I'd seen a decent piano. I ran my finger across the top of the instrument, my finger becoming covered in dust. When was this last played? Opening the lid, I found by playing a few notes that the piano had been tuned. I smiled, pulling out the stool, I sat down and began to play. Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. One of the most beautiful pieces of music ever written. My fingers moved smoothly over the keys, one hand working independently from the other. I smiled as the piece ended. That was the first piece of I ever learnt. Ever since I'd been composing my own music. I began playing my newest creation, and was so lost in the music that I didn't notice someone enter the room. Smiling to myself as the melodies echoed around the room, I abruptly stopped as something moved behind me.
“That was pretty good,” I heard a voice say.
I stayed silent, not knowing where the voice had come from.
“For a new girl… Cedric,” He said, “I’m Cedric,”
I was shocked that he'd appeared behind me so quickly.
“Hazel,” I mumbled, shaking his outstretched hand.
Looking at him, he reminded me of somebody. Cedric was tall, with short, spiky, light brown hair, dark green eyes and a slight tan.
“Bet you were surprised to hear me,” He laughed.
“You think?” I answered.
“I’m sorry,” Cedric replied, “If I scared you,”
“That’s fine, I don't get scared easily,” I replied.
I turned and closed the piano lid quietly as the alarm bell went.
“So Cedric, are you in my next class?” I asked.
I turned, the room was empty; Cedric was gone.