Young Writers Society

The car pulled up in front of the two-story brick building, surrounded by manicured green lawns and pine trees. Alexis slumped against the window, staring at it glumly.

“Here you are,” said her father with forced cheerfulness. “I’ll pick you up in a couple of hours.”

She didn’t move.

“Well,” he said, “goodbye then.”

“I’ve gotten good grades,” Alexis signed to him lethargically. “Why do I need to go to school in the middle of summer? This is pointless.”

“Alexis,” her dad sighed, “We’ve been over this a thousand times. This is not school, this is a summer band workshop. I wish you would stop arguing and procrast-”

She raised her hand to stop him from talking. “You know I don’t play music. Why would you do something like this?”

“I know you don’t play music, but that has got to change. You have been sad for so long, you deserve some happiness.”

Alexis shook her head and watched the clouds move across the sky.

“Get out of the car, Alexis.” Her father had that stern tone in his voice that told her that she was going to be grounded. She sighed heavily and flung open the door, slamming it shut behind her.

Stupid therapist, Alexis growled to herself as she stomped up the steps to the school. Why had they moved all the way out into the middle of nowhere—a.k.a Minnesota? There was nothing here except trees, humidity, and mosquitoes. She swiped at the little buzzing insects swarming around her and opened the door savagely, entering the cool darkness of the school.

As she walked down the empty hallway, the stomping sound of her feet echoed from the bare walls and floor. She stopped and reveled in the silence around her. Alexis did not get a lot of that at home nowadays, all because of the therapist. Stupid therapist, she thought again. After they had moved here a few months before, her parents took her to a therapist because she had been depressed for so long.

I wasn’t depressed, she told herself. I…I was grieving. I still am.

After a few sessions, the therapist had decided that something to bring Alexis out of her depression was to play music again; so her parents signed her up for a summer band workshop, which was why she was here, standing in an empty school with a flute case swinging at her side.

She pressed her lips together. She would never play during this workshop. Never. The only reason they signed me up for this, Alexis thought fiercely, was so that they could have a child prodigy again.

Looking around, she realized that she had no idea where the band room was. Alexis shrugged. Oh well, it didn’t matter. She didn’t want to be here anyway. Pressing her back against a row of lockers, she slid to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest. She could just sit there for three hours until her dad came back.

Alexis scanned the hallway with her eyes. Darkness filled both ends of the hallway on either side of her, seeming to go on forever. She shivered and closed her eyes, listening to the beating of her heart. As she did, a strain of music floated to her ears.

Ah, she thought, there’s the noise from the band room. But as she continued to listen, she realized that it wasn’t the people in the workshop, for no instrument that she knew of could make such a sound.

Alexis stood up, forgetting her promise to herself, and strained her ears to hear more. It grew a little louder and, despite herself, she smiled. It was the sound of water and the warmth of fire and the sweetness of honey all rolled into one. The song had a simple melody, but a happy one, one to make you want to go back to your five year old years and share your toys with your best friend. She could see it, a golden line flickering in the darkness, and tasted the sweetness of cookies.

The music softened and slowly dwindled away, but a brassy note rolled into the hallway, extinguishing the after-effects of the music. Alexis slowly rose to her feet and leaned against the lockers. She felt even sadder now after that music had gone.

“Hey! Who are you?” someone called from several yards away. The lights blazed on and Alexis squinted to adjust her eyes. The person came closer and she saw that it was a boy about her own age.

“Oh, did you come for the workshop?” He watched her nod. The boy had dark blond hair, blue-green eyes, and a permanent smile on his face. “Hi, I’m Jared.”

Alexis forced herself to smile and give him a high-five.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

She shook her head and pushed past him into the band room.Alexis forced herself to smile and give him a high-five.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

She shook her head and pushed past him into the band room. It was full of teenagers, all standing in groups and talking earnestly with each other. About twenty chairs were set up in a semicircle in the center of the room, each with a music stand in front of it. The walls were lined with cubbies from which several black cases were sticking out.

At the front of the room, a woman sat poring over sheets of music. She looked up when Alexis approached the desk. “Hello,” she said warmly. “You’re cutting it a little close.”

Alexis blinked.

“But that’s all right,” the woman added, and moved her finger over the list of names. “What’s your last name, honey?”

She bent over and touched her name on the list.

“Oh…yes…” The woman’s face turned a deep red. “Well, I hope you have fun at our workshop, Alexis. We are pleased to have you here.” She shook Alexis’s hand and then returned to her studies of the sheet music.