The Love of a Lifetime - Part 1

I sat patiently, waiting to hear my name. Everything was merely a low hum mixed into the background. I was in my own world now, alone, focusing on nothing, concentrating on maintaining my composure, calmly awaiting my call, my sign that it was my turn to speak. I didn't notice the ticking minutes as they crawled by. Time was frozen, my existence rendered useless. I was here for one thing and one thing only; to keep a promise and tell our story. Today my first true loves life officially came to a final close, taking my life, my reason to live and my purpose with him. Today was more than an ending. It was a bookmark to a whole new beginning. And in order to tell everyone where his life ended, I had to start where mine began.

I snapped back to life as I pushed those thoughts into the black hole in the back of my mind for later. Instead I focused on the tall, gangly man speaking at the podium. He was young, around my age, wearing an all-too-large black tux. He dabbed at his red eyes, raw from the tears he was trying to cover up. The attire seemed all too perfect for the occasion. Not just the tux but the tears. When it came to mourning I-
"Elizabeth Kris." The boy announced, cutting me off mid thought.

I gently stood and made my way to the podium, thanking him as he stepped aside to join the mutely applauding crowd.
I delicately placed my hands on the cool, icy wood as I drew in a sharp breath; it felt like I was sucking in shards of glass. That's what the story felt like lately; sharp, numbing pain. I breathed out as I prepared to start from the beginning.

It was a familiar scene with new people and new faces. As students crowded every corner of the hall, nudging each other in order to catch a glimpse at "the new girl." I tried to block out the unfamiliar faces as I scanned the black, thick door numbers, trying to find the three matching to the ones gently printed on a sticky note that the brunette in the front office had given me.
283- Anderson's band

"Two-eighty three?" I murmured to myself still staring at the paper.
"Can I help you?" A sharp husky voice questioned from behind me. The impatience of his voice made me jump as I instantly looked up from my schedule and glanced around the brightly decorated halls, noticing that we were the only ones yet to retreat to class.
"Oh!" I gasped as my eyes fell onto his creamy, silky soft eyes. They were a green I hadn't seen before, almost like moss mixed with lime, the intensity was almost overwhelming.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." He took a step closer, his voice more delicate and sweet.
"No, I just didn't realize everyone was gone. "I breathed in shock. Then again it wouldn't have been like me to not be late to at least one of my classes on the first day. Even the last one before lunch.
"Oh. Well, where are you headed?" He glanced towards the note in my hand. I suddenly realized he had his hand extended towards me.

"Two-eighty three, Anderson's band. I'm Elizabeth, by the way." I handed him my schedule.
"I'm Jared." He looked up at me for a second, it seemed like he lost his train of thought. "....That's easy," He shook his head as he caught back on to what he was saying. "...He's right there." He threw his thumb to a door on my far left before handing me my schedule, eyes still glued to its contents. I began to wonder if we had any more classes together. "What do you play Elizabeth?" He asked, ending my daydream.
"Umm.... Well...I don't." I flashed him a wimpy smile as we both laughed. I nudged my way towards the door, leading to my new class. "My mom thinks I like music, which I do. But..." I felt my already weak smile tug down into a frown.
"Ah, but...you don't like to play music."

"Yup, I guess I'm going to have to learn though." I glanced up at him as we stopped at the door. "What do you play?" I asked, trying to change the touchy subject.
"I can help you learn." He dodged my attempt as he reached for the door, releasing the wave of sounds into the quiet halls. Before taking a step in, he looked down at me, smiling. He knew he had avoided my question. I ignored him and rolled my eyes as I twirled in front of him into the class, I heard a low chuckle from behind me.
"Mr. Keyes, how nice of you to join us." Mr. Anderson nodded towards us before going back to the class. "Today we will be doing free time so we can help get Miss. Kris situated. So have some fun." He waved the group of students to freedom as Jared, still at my side, followed me to Mr. Anderson.

"Can I use the recording area for today?" He questioned, nodding towards a small, glass box in the back of the class.
"Yes, of course Jared." He replied before turning to me. "Now Miss. Kris, what instrument would you like to begin with?"
"Umm...." I searched my head for the easiest instrument. If I only knew what Jared played. "How about...The guitar......?"
"Okay, well go to the back room and pick whichever you would like to play." He pointed me towards the far end of the room where a large wooden door waited. I turned my pack to Mr. Anderson before rolling my eyes and prodding my way to the dreaded instrument room.

I slowly creaked open the door, afraid of what lay ahead of me. The room was flooded with different wooden, metal, colorful objects. The walls looked like they were built from the musical items and if you moved one of them the whole room would crumble into pieces. I carefully walked up to the guitar wall and picked up the first one I laid my hand on, a black and blue acoustic guitar. It was actually kind of pretty. It's too bad I wasn't really into the idea of me being a musician.

I gasped as I heard the room behind me fall silent to make way for a blasting piano solo. I quickly backed out of the room constructed of instruments and found my way back to the class, who were all huddled around the small glass cube in the back of the room. I slowly fought my way closer to the music so I could hear it better.
There was someone in the recording studio playing piano, and then someone else standing outside of it, DJing was my guess.
I watched as the mystery mans hands turned into a blur as he lent over the white and black keys, tapping the rhythm worthy of an angel. I felt my jaw drop as I heard his voice gently slip into the air. Like thick honey his music slid through the room, seeping its way to my ears and trickling down to my heart, now fluttering a million beats a minute. I felt my spine melt as a ghostly quiver ran through my body.

He smiled as he glanced up from under his dark eyelashes, the familiar green eyes burning into me, as his hands stretched to the end of the keyboard hitting almost every key in the most nectarous and thickly illustrious pattern I have ever heard. His recognizable smile was even more beautiful than I remembered. I felt myself slipping under into his control. Golden, sickly sweet music danced through every inch of the room, over ruling anything inadequate or unhappy. I closed my eyes as the violin practically lit up the box. Warmth waved through the small room as the guitar joined in perfect harmony with the already, inhumanly perfect violin, piano, and the unforgettable, luscious voice. It all tied together like crystal and pearls. It was modernly elegant. The piano was my favorite instrument in the song, it brought on a delectable edge that highlighted his raw voice, both wholly perfect for another, and it made the music even more memorable.

Before I knew it the song was over, as soon as it had begun. I realized now why he hadn't answered my question, he played everything, perfectly too.
He stepped out of the box as the DJ handed him a CD and then made his way towards me, still in awe, standing in the middle of the room where the crowd had dispersed and continued on with their lives as if nothing had happened.
"What do you think?" He winked at me with a laugh as I melted from the shell of shock.
"It was......amazing!" I smiled at him as he put his arm over my shoulder, taking my guitar in his hand.

"Thanks, so acoustic guitar?" His eyebrows squished together as he gave me a glance, questioning my sanity. What's so bad about an acoustic guitar?
"Yeah....I figured why not? And it is kind of pretty." I smiled as I took my instrument back, protecting it from his cruel judgment.
He noticed how defensive I was as he quickly tried to take back what he said. "No, I mean...I just...I thought you'd be more of a classical kind of girl, you know, like the flute." I laughed at his accusation and began to wonder why he thought that. But before I could ask he had a new subject in mind, one I would have preferred to stay away from.
"So mountain girl, what brings to the warm beaches of California?" I cringed at the nickname. Debating where to begin.