CHAPTER 3

“Mind if I join you?”

“Yes—I mean no,” I said, flustered.

Idiot, I thought. Stop acting so nervous.

Jonah flashed that smile of his, then sat across from me. He sat erect, with perfect posture, and put his violin down carefully beside him. He gently laid out his food. There was something about him, something I couldn’t quite place. He was different than anyone I’d ever met. It was like he was from a different era. He definitely did not belong in this place.

“How’s your first day?” he asked.

“Not what I expected.”

“How so?”

“Everything here is just so…different. So big. So loud. So….unwelcoming.”

Then, I quickly added:

“Except for you.”

He smiled.

“Meeting you was the only good thing that ever happened to me in this place,” he said.

I couldn’t believe it. It was as if we were thinking the same thoughts.

“I know what you mean,” he said. “My first day here was awful. And I still feel like I don’t fit in. Sometimes this place feels like part school and part jail.”

I felt so much better hearing his words, his voice.

I looked down and noticed for the first time that he was holding something.

“Is that a violin?”

I nodded to his instrument. He kept it close, and kept one hand resting on it, as if afraid someone might steal it.

“It’s a viola, actually. It’s just a little bigger, but it’s a much different sound. More mellow.”

I’d never seen a viola and hoped that he’d put it on the table and show me. But he didn’t make a move to, and I didn’t want to pry. He was still resting his hand on it, and he seemed protective of it, like it was personal and private.

“Do you practice a lot?”

Jonah shrugged. “A few hours a day,” he said casually.

“A few hours!? You must be great!”

He shrugged again. “I’m OK, I guess. There are a lot of players much better than me. But I am hoping it’s my ticket out of this place.”

“I always wanted to play the piano,” I said.

“Why don’t you?”

I was going to say, I never had one, but stopped myself. Instead, I shrugged and looked back down at my food.

“You don’t need to own a piano,” Jonah said.

I looked up, startled that he’d read my mind.

“There’s a rehearsal room in this school. For all the bad here, at least there’s some good. They’ll give you lessons for free. All you have to do is sign up.”

My eyes widened.

“Really?”

“There’s a signup board outside the music room. Ask for Mrs. Lennox. Tell her you’re my friend.”

Friend. I liked the sound of that word. I slowly felt a happiness welling up inside of me.

I smiled wide. Our eyes locked for a moment.

Staring back into his glowing, green eyes, I burned with a desire to ask him a million questions: Do you have a girlfriend? Why are you being so nice? Do you really like me?

But, instead, I bit her tongue and said nothing.

Afraid that our time together would run out soon, I scanned my brain for something to ask him that would prolong our conversation. I tried to think of something that would assure me that I’d see him again. But I got nervous and froze up.

I finally opened my mouth, and just as I did, the bell rang.

The room erupted into noise and motion, and Jonah stood, grabbing his viola.

“I’m late,” he said, gathering his tray.

He looked over at my tray. “Can I take yours?”

I looked down, realizing I’d forgotten it, and shook my head.

“OK,” he said.

He stood there, suddenly shy, not knowing what to say.

“Well…see you.”

“See you,” I answered lamely, my voice barely above a whisper.

I watched him walk out, and felt like kicking myself.

Why didn’t I make the first move? Should I have? Why did I let him just get away?

Would I have a chance like that again? And would I think of something to say next time?

Was he just being nice? Did he like me?

Or did he have another girlfriend?