Chapter 5 - A Shy Monster

Berlioz’s Symphonie Fantastique filled the room and my ears. It is a relatively easy piece, and I did give the rhythm with the stomping of my foot, but I was still amazed with the synchronicity these children had. And, as I suspected, cute little Meldy with her guitar couldn’t be heard at all.

There was no way of me taking my eyes off of her. Now aware of the fact that she is probably six or so years younger than me, it made it feel treacherous. Unlike me, she didn’t even spare me a glance. Nothing excludes the fact that she wanted to, right?

Oh, Good Lord, forgive me for these thoughts. She is underage and my student at that! Still, if I learned something in my life is that thoughts can’t hurt anyone, as long as they aren’t manifested through behavior. That fact was enough for me to continue indulging in my imagination.

Did I mention that she’s also the girl whose last name was Grey? I almost laughed out loud, but didn’t want to seem unprofessional. Not that thinking about a student is unprofessional…

We went through Symphonie Fantastique a few more times, and it was time to dismiss them. The kids packed their instruments, and I felt pity for three girls who had to carry cellos.

Everyone seeped through the door except Meldy. She approached me, her head down.

“M – Miss Steele.”

She. Is. So. Cute.

“I wanted to apologize for this morning. I’m sorry for bumping into you. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

Her apology confused me. I am the one because of whom she got coffee all over herself. And, besides, if she’s sorry, she should be sorry for how she ignored me. Maybe she sensed what I was thinking.

“And I’m sorry about how I behaved. It was way out of line for me. In my defense, I thought you were also a student. I don’t really have a good relationship with the rest of the students.”

Well, that explains it. I can forget about it now that she apologized. Except I can’t, because it can be my excuse to talk with her more.

“Sorry for asking, but, what do you mean?”

I regretted asking instantly. She hid her eyes from my sight, and turned around to leave. This goes beyond simple shyness, and I guessed that she is a deeply troubled child. And, it isn’t the fact that I like her neither, but the duty that I feel as an educator to help her if I can.

Before I could stop my hand, I grabbed her own, stopping her. I regretted it, because the look in her eyes was so sad it almost made me cry.

“Hey, it’s alright, everything’s alright.”

I said before letting her hand, and with a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes, she was gone.