Chapter 1

Gordon sat in his house, surrounded by packed boxes. He wasn’t close to moving, not yet, at least. He was miserable. His job was over, and he didn’t know what he was going to do next. He still had to deal with the upcoming hearing. Despite what his lawyer said, it could go either way, and if he lost, what then? What would that mean? People were already harassing him on the street, and the media wouldn’t leave him alone.

The worst part of everything, he thought, was he couldn’t see her. He didn’t even know where she was or how she was doing. He only saw glimpses of her being chased by reporters to and from school. He sat down on his couch, the copy of Doctor Zhivago still sitting by his TV. He wanted to cry, to scream at the world, but more importantly, he wanted to scream at himself. He had so many questions to ask himself. Like how did it start? How did it come to this? How did he end up here, at this point in his life. However, the biggest question he wanted to know was: How was she doing?

Kelsey sat in her now mostly empty bedroom, needing a break from packing. Graduation was less than a week away, and she needed to have everything packed by then. She still didn’t know where she would be living, and her father barely spoke to her anymore. All she knew was that he found a sublet for her somewhere close to campus, and that was it.

She wondered how he was doing. She hadn’t seen him since that day in March. She still couldn’t believe everything had happened so fast. Things only got worse once the media came, blowing up every little thing into a big story. But what story did they have? They were the only ones who knew the truth. Everything they were selling was wild theories and speculation; rumors fuelled by games of telephone, spun and re-spun by the students who already hated her. She thought back to her first day at Lincoln High and the first day she met him.

Gordon entered the staff room at Lincoln High School, ready to eat his lunch. The first day of school was always a mess, and this year has been no different so far. He threw his food in the microwave and poured himself a cup of coffee before the timer beeped. Taking his plastic container, he walked over to the table and collapsed in a chair.

“Already beat Gordo?” asked his friend Steve, the Phys Ed teacher.

“Yeah, you know how it is on the first day. Everyone’s crazy, yammering to their friends. What about you?”

“Meh, I’m good. First period, I had one of the grade 9 classes. There’ll be some problems there. Have you had any of them yet?” Steve replied.

“Not yet, I just did senior Bio. I think I have them in last period. What’s the problem?”

“Usual stuff. Arrogant, rude, and the girls ... well, you know,” Steve said with a smile.

“Yeah, I know,” Gordon said, knowing that some of the male teachers couldn’t help but talk about how sexy some of the girls were. Gordon and Steve were careful when they spoke about the girls. They always made sure they were alone, and none of the female faculty could hear them. However, Gordon didn’t like to take part in those conversations. He figured it was one slip-up and then came a visit from the school board.

The two men went way back. They both went to the state teacher’s college together eight years ago and fortunately got jobs at the same school. Steve got married a few years ago, while Gordon recently had a long-term relationship end.

“What do you have this afternoon?” Steve asked while eating a sandwich.

“Back-to-back music of the main class and then the youngins at the end.”

“I still can’t believe you lucked into getting that music teacher position. Such an easy gig, man,” laughed Steve.

“You’re one to talk, gym-rat. Played any dodgeball lately?”

“Hey! Dodgeball builds character,” Steve said seriously before they both broke out into laughter.

“Shit, I gotta get going. I haven’t even been in the music room yet. The first week is pretty easy. It’s just figuring out what instruments to assign people and basic rudiments anyway.”

“All right, catch ya later, Gordo.”

“Later, Steve.”

Gordon and Steve had been friends for years, going back to their days in college. They’d met at a party while both chasing the same girl. Neither one of them wooed her that night, she left with a business major, but the unlikely pair became friends. From there, the two partied and hung out, slowly becoming best friends. It was actually Steve that convinced Gordon to become a teacher, pulling him away from his dream of writing music. Gordon had been taking some college courses in biology, mostly as a backup if his music writing career didn’t take off, so he used that as a teachable when applying for jobs.

He actually found he loved teaching, especially music, as it was a way of shaping young minds with new possibilities. He didn’t think of it in some hippy way, just as a building creativity in an increasingly sterile and automated world. It was thrilling to watch a student develop a love of music and teach them how it defined eras in history. He did wish he had more time to write his own material though, summers just weren’t long enough, he thought to himself.

Gordon took his things and left the room, entering the hallway where a crowd of students milled about. He walked through the throng, occasionally being greeted by some of his students and members of the band. He finally made it to the music room, which was in the center of the school, next to the cafeteria. He figured it was to keep the noise down for the ‘real classrooms’. He unlocked the door and went through what he called the airlock: one door from the outside hall and another to enter the classroom. He wasn’t sure why it was built that way. Perhaps it’s noise abatement or maybe security for all the expensive instruments, but who knew?

He flicked on the lights, and the ugly brown carpeted walls greeted him like a returning friend. He was happy to be the music teacher. It didn’t have a lot of homework to grade, and having been a band geek himself back in the day, he enjoyed helping students understand the arts. The room was leveled up so the students could see him conducting, with four levels, starting from the ground. The ground floor had a piano to demonstrate the tune. Each row had a set of chairs each facing towards the podium, where he directed. The top level was where all the percussion was, as well as his own office, which he used when he wanted some privacy from the other teachers.

On the far side of the room past the piano on ground level, were a couple of practice rooms as well as the instrument storage and cleaning room. That room had a sink and various sterilization fluids for cleaning the instruments and their mouthpieces since some were shared among the classes. Each year, the students in the band were assigned instruments that they were allowed to take home to practice with.

While instrumental music was the majority of each class, Gordon ensured there were modules about musical appreciation, theory, and history. Each one helped inform the students of the importance of music throughout history and society. He was proud of his lesson plans, but they wouldn’t start until a few weeks later in the semester.

Gordon had everything ready for his first music class when they arrived. These were mostly students whom he had taught the years prior, so it was pretty easy to slip into the routine with them. There were a few new students. He needed to learn their names and what their musical backgrounds and abilities were. The hour-long class flew by in no time, with mostly everyone excited for another year of music. Gordon and the students both knew it was a relatively easy course, with minimal exams, and they were all fine with that. That said, it did require everyone to work hard on the music and their instrument, which certainly affected their grade.

His final class of the day was with the grade 9s - the ‘youngins’ - all of whom came from different feeder schools. It took a few weeks to sort out the different cliques and pecking orders in this age group. This was always a course he hated teaching. Music was a required credit, so many didn’t want to be there. Therefore, only a few of the students continued after the first year.

He stood at his conductor’s podium as the class funneled in, and he instructed them to take a seat in any of the chairs. It was right before the bell when three girls ran in, giggling, before realizing that the teacher was staring at them. He pointed to some empty seats, and they all sat down together. He already knew they were going to be a problem.

“Hello, everyone. Welcome to music. My name is Mr. Osgood, and I’ll be teaching you about musical instruments, as well as music theory, history, and appreciation. Who here has any musical instrument experience?”

There were a few students who raised their hands. He went over what instruments they played and their experience. He did this as a quick way to see what he was working with, but also a more enjoyable way to do attendance on the first day. Roll call was dull, and this way, he avoided the usual students lying about their names.

For those who had no background whatsoever, Gordon spent most of the class determining the best instrument for each student. Throughout that time, though, his eye kept drifting to one of the three girls who ran in at the last moment. He didn’t know if it was her stunning red hair or if it was that she kept her eyes on him the whole time. Something was pulling at him, and he didn’t know what. When he finally got to her little group, he learned her name was Kelsey Moore and her two friends were Vicki and Stephanie.

None of the three had any experience, so he asked what they wanted to play. None of them knew, so he decided to break them up. He figured that would keep them under control a bit better. He assigned Vicki to the flute, Stephanie to the saxophone, and Kelsey to the clarinet. He did that to some of the first-year students since, usually, their instrument choice didn’t matter much. Also, each of the girls would sit in a different section and would spread them out.

When he assigned instruments to new students, he’d do a little song and dance routine he’d learned from one of his old teachers. He’d check fingers, arm length, and various other factors before assigning the instrument. Gordon came to find out years later that it was all bullshit. It just made the student think thought was put into things but in reality, they just assigned them whatever instrument was needed to fill out a section. He expected only a couple of them to continue music the following year as the class was no longer ‘required’.

Pretty soon, class was over and so was the day. The students gathered up their things and Kelsey and her two friends left the classroom together to go get their stuff and head home.

“What a lame class. I can’t believe we have to take this,” Stephanie said, walking down the hall to her locker.

“I know. At least the teacher’s hot! What do you think, Kels?” replied Vicki.

“Oh, definitely! I wouldn’t mind him teaching me a thing or two,” Kelsey laughed as she reached her locker. “But I think the class might be fun. Beats math or English anyway. We’ll see.”

“He had his eye on you, Kelsey. Maybe he likes gingers,” Vicki teased, slamming her locker closed.

“Shut up you slut! You’re just jealous no one cares about brunettes,” Kelsey lobbed back.

“Whatever, you bitch,” Vicki replied.

“Oh well, gotta catch the bus. Talk to you later,” Kelsey said as the three girls went their separate ways.

Kelsey always hated being teased about her red hair. It was long and slightly curly, but she did her best to keep it shiny, managed, and under control. She’d been friends with Vicki and Steph for years, going back to elementary school. They knew how to push her buttons, and she knew how to push back. They were really good friends though, caring and supportive when she needed them. They had become a little boy crazy in the past few years though, but she guessed she had too. The problem was she also found boys her age a little immature and annoying. She thought about Gordon, standing there in his sweater and slacks. She got lost in her mind momentarily, remembering she had to go. She made it to the city bus just in time, headed home, and daydreamed about the cute music teacher. She needed to keep her mind occupied with something other than going home.

Slowly the school year progressed for the students and faculty of Lincoln High. Gordon, or Mr. O, as some of his students called him, had started up the band. By the end of September, they were already practicing several compositions. He had a good core group of students who came back from the previous year, but so far, no interest from any of the new students. That wasn’t uncommon, as it usually took some time for them to become comfortable with their new instruments. There was also the social side of it. Band was uncool, so it was social suicide to join unless you were confident in yourself. That’s something most youth lack.

One day in October, he was approached after class by one of his students looking for help. “Mr. O., is there any way you could help me with learning to play this thing,” Kelsey asked, her green eyes piercing into his soul.

“Sure, Kelsey,” he said, always looking to encourage practicing. “What kind of help do you need? You can sign up for a practice room for lunch or for an hour after school. Or do you need specific help with something?”

“I was thinking after school. I can’t practice at home, and I just want to get better at this,” she said earnestly, which surprised Gordon. “Of course. Follow me.”

He led her to the calendar on the wall that acted as a logbook. Kelsey booked every Tuesday and Thursday in Room 1, until Christmas break. She said thank you and headed out of class leaving Gordon scratching his head.

‘No one books rooms that far ahead,’ he told himself, as he stared at the calendar. Even his most dedicated band members booked one or two weeks at most, so he had never needed to make a rule against it. He guessed if she didn’t show up, he could just void them, but he was curious what she would do.

He thought Kelsey was a strange girl. While he was slightly infatuated with her, on a mostly superficial level, she had joined one of the most popular cliques in the school. She was a cute looking girl, still maturing in her skin, but was attractive enough to have the eye of many of the teenage boys and a few of the teachers. Rumors were, she was invited to some of the senior parties and was hanging out with the cheerleaders and jocks. It was unusual for a girl of her age, and with an unstable social status, to be seen working hard in music class.

Gordon ultimately shrugged his shoulders. He was here for an hour after school anyway. Most of the days he sat alone grading papers for his biology class or organizing sheet music for the band. Some days were longer than others though. Monday and Wednesday mornings there was band practice at 7:30am, with lunch practices on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He wanted this year’s group to place high at the regional finals and maybe even go to state.

Also, it wasn’t like he had anyone waiting for him at home. All he had was a small bungalow, his computer, and whatever he could find in the fridge to eat. Sure, he had friends like Steve and most of the other teachers, but a lot of them had families or partners, so he spent most nights alone.

It was the first Tuesday after school when Kelsey entered the classroom to practice her clarinet. She found that after a few weeks in class learning the basics, she wanted to get better at it. Her friends didn’t understand why she would want to spend an hour twice a week sitting in a tiny room blowing an instrument, but she didn’t care. She didn’t tell her new friends, the group of seniors who invited her out, about it and just said she was busy those days.

She found Mr. O. in his office going over some papers when she knocked on the door. He apparently hadn’t heard her enter and was startled by the noise. He greeted her warmly enough, but she could see his eyes briefly dart around, checking out her young body. She had grown used to it since she had developed. She didn’t have as much up top as some girls, but there was enough to draw a man’s gaze. They were also small enough that she could enjoy sports like running without a heavy sports bra.

“What can I do for you, Kelsey? The room is empty, I believe.”

“Well sir, I was wondering if you could help me. I’m having a hard time making the transition up the octave in one of the songs, and I can’t quite work the fingerings fast enough,” said Kelsey, holding her clarinet case.

“Ok, why don’t you warm up and I’ll be right with you once I finish with this paper,” he said with a smile.

Kelsey smiled back, nodded, and headed down the steps to Room 1. She flicked on the lights and sat down in the chair, assembling the black and silver instrument. It was a small room, just large enough for two people standing still. It was covered with the same, ugly brown carpet and had a weird, stale smell. She placed the wooden reed in her mouth to moisten it, while attaching clamps on the mouthpiece.

She practiced scales a few times to warm up and then Mr. Osgood appeared in the doorway. He looked cute in his black pants and light green sweater. He pulled up a chair from the other practice room and sat down in the doorway. He asked her to play the runs she was having difficulty with, and she obliged. She could see him watching her fingers and mouth move as she played the music piece to the end.