Fourteen: A Guitar Has Strings, Right?

    “Okay, guys! Uh… sounding good!”

            Well, that’s a total lie. But seriously, how are you meant to break the news to six (well, five, if you exclude Bobby, who doesn’t really do much more than look constantly terrified) unruly kids that they sound worse than a crowd of tone deaf whining dogs?

            Without getting punched in the face, that is.

            I am really not the right person to be mentoring a musical performance. However, I’m also not the right person to be a counselor at a camp for musically gifted kids when I know nothing about music myself, and that didn’t stop me.

            Probably should’ve, though.

            The seven of us have spent the entire afternoon stuck in one of the practice rooms, trying to put together something that won’t embarrass us completely when it comes to the performance. For some strange reason other than they are a bit sick in the head, the supervisors have decided it would be a good ‘bonding’ exercise for the counselors to arrange some sort of musical ensemble with their cabin. Which is what I’m doing now.

            Well, when I say that, what I really mean is all of the kids mindlessly doing their own thing while I do my best to act like I know what I’m doing.

            I don’t.

            “Are you kidding?” Isaac says, eyeing me with a disbelieving expression. I have to say, sitting on a stool with his acoustic guitar perched on his knee, he looks totally professional. More professional than me, anyway. “It sounds awful.”

            “Right,” I say brightly. “We’ll get it sorted, though, won’t we?”

            Jake throws his violin down and slumps moodily into a chair. So far, he’s refused to cooperate at all and has only actually played three notes. What kind of a ‘violin prodigy’ won’t even play a simple tune?

            Sometimes I wish he’d just punch Jenny or something and get kicked out.

            Not that I wish any eight year old abuse to Jenny or anything. But you know, it wouldn’t hurt her to take one for the team. Well, not really for the team… mostly for me to be free of Jake for the rest of the summer.

            Whoever it’s for, if she was a good supervisor, she’d be doing it.

            “If we had Blake we’d be okay,” Connor says.

            “Well, you haven’t got Blake. So suck it up and get on with it, okay?” Who said I can’t be assertive? Well, no one, but you know what I mean.

            The room falls into an uncomfortable silence and I glance round it, for lack of a better thing to do. The boys are looking at me expectedly for their next instruction, and to be frank, I don’t have any more of a clue than they do. It’s right about now that I’m beginning to regret my decision to ever come here – why couldn’t I have picked a normal summer camp, that doesn’t require an abnormal amount of musical knowledge that I just do not possess?

            “Uh… why don’t we all just… improvise?” I suggest lamely. It’s pretty obvious that it’s not going to sound any better than the disaster of sixty seconds ago, but I have no other useful ideas.

            “Because that’s what we’ve been doing for the past hour, and it sucks,” Jake says. “You’re a crap counselor. You don’t even know anything about music, so why are you here?”

            Valid point.

            I am about to respond with a witty comeback (that hasn’t yet sprung to mind), but am cut off by the sound of the door opening rather abruptly.

            “Hello!”

            Oh, great.

            “Hi, Cindy.” Is it really obvious that I’m gritting my teeth to prevent the sarcastic tone of voice that is just aching to escape my lips? I really hope not.

            “How’s it going in here?” she asks brightly, breezing inside without so much of an apology for the interruption. That bitch. I could’ve been in the middle of conducting the next piece equivalent to Mozart, and yet she just casually strides in as if we’re sitting around doing nothing.

            Well, we are, but I’d never admit that to her.

            “It’s going fine!” I answer her. The grin on my face is so wide it actually kind of hurts. “We’ve got so many good ideas, it’s just hard to put them into one piece, you know what I mean?”

            Cindy smiles back at me, nodding her head sympathetically. I take the opportunity to give her the once-over, mentally noting her appearance so I can find things to moan about to Savannah later. However, I am disappointed to find that she is only wearing a white printed tee and denim shorts. A couple of cheap looking (and when I say cheap looking, I mean incredibly expensive looking, but let’s not give her the satisfaction) bangles hang on her left arm and a dainty gold chain sits neatly around her neck. “Oh my God, I know,” she says. “The girls are just so great! It’s so hard putting something together that shows off all of their talents at the same time. Melody Cabin has a reputation to keep up, you know.”

            “Oh yes.” The nodding of my head increases vigorously. There is no way in a zillion years that I will ever admit to Cindy that I actually have no clue what I’m doing. I’ll pretend my musical knowledge is on par with Mozart if I have to. “So…” I gesture around the room, as politely as I can manage. “Did you want something, or…?”

            “Oh, yes!” Cindy laughs wildly, as if I have just told an extremely funny joke. I have to make a conscious effort to stop myself from looking at her strangely. “Sorry, I almost forgot! Ha! No, I just wanted to borrow a music stand.”

            “Uh... sure thing. Help yourself.”

            “Thanks, Bailey!” Another sugar coated smile is flashed in my direction as she grabs one from the side of the room. “That’s just great.”

            “It’s fine.” I wonder if my tone screams please leave this room right now. I hope it does.

            “So are you going to give me a little performance?” she asks, gesturing towards the group of boys all slumped unenthusiastically on chairs in various places. God, would it kill them to look a little more like musical geniuses? Some people are so inconsiderate.

            “What do you mean?”

            “You know,” Cindy says, with another laugh. Oh my God, how does she keep up this super sweet act? It’s killing me after barely two minutes. It wouldn’t surprise me if the corners of her lips are now permanently etched into a smile that refuses to leave her face. At least it’d save her the effort of actually moving her muscles. “What you’ve done so far. I’d love to see how it’s going.”

            Now it’s my turn to laugh hysterically. “What? You want to hear it? Oh… no, no. Ha, I’m afraid that won’t be possible…”

            “Why not?”

            For God’s sake, why are people so persistent? “Because…” I frantically search my mind for an excuse. Think, Bailey, think! You’ve spent over ten years of your life in school, there’s got to be something useful in there! “Because it’s going to be a surprise,” I garble way too quickly.

            “Oh.” Cindy’s face falls slightly. “Not even a little preview?”

            “Nope, sorry…”

            “Well,” she says, standing up a little straighter. “I’m sure it’ll be great when we finally get to see it. I’ll be looking forward to it. I can’t wait to see what you’ve put together.”

            Neither can I, I’m tempted to mutter. Instead, I smile again. “Yours too.”

            “Of course, I’m going to be in ours too.” Uh… were my two words an invitation to launch into a lengthy discussion about her perfect composition skills? I didn’t think so. Apparently, Cindy doesn’t seem to care. “Playing the flute, naturally. Sinead and Katy play it, too actually. It’s great, because it means I can help them with their performing skills, you know?”

            “Totally,” I say, nodding like I know what the hell she’s talking about.

            “Well, I better get back.”

            Thank the Lord.

            “Good luck with this,” Cindy adds, gesturing towards my circle of uninterested kids. “I’m sure you’ll do great.”

            “You too,” I force myself to add. Don’t want to seem bitchy, do I? “See you around.”

            “Bye, Bailey!” she calls, and with a swish of her hair and a flash of her teeth, she is gone. I have to thoroughly control myself to stop me jumping for joy.

            I’m pretty sure that would earn me some weird looks.

            It remains a mystery to me how one person can cope with so much smiley fakery. Just two minutes of grinning at Cindy is enough to exhaust me (but then again, I’m not exactly an Olympic athlete and sometimes get tired just walking up the stairs if I’ve had a bit too much to eat).

            “Why can’t we have her as our counselor?” Jake queries, when the door closes after Cindy’s retreating shadow.

            I have to admit; I’m a little hurt by this. Obviously, I’m not the best counselor in the world (and yes, the boys of Forte Cabin do show overwhelming signs of hatred towards me), but the thought of them wanting Cindy does kind of irritate me. Just because she’s so freaking perfect. Doesn’t anyone else experience the same level of annoyance as me when they’re around her?

            Apparently not.

            Well, apart from Savannah. But she’s my best friend, so that hardly counts. She has to be on my side. ‘Cause otherwise, you know, it would be kind of bitchy.

            “Because,” I say pointedly, in response to Jake’s question, “she’s got perfect little Melody Cabin. Anyway, why would you want her?”

            “Uh, because she’s not you.”

            Ouch. Didn’t realize they hated me that much.

            “Look, Jake,” I say, in the most polite tone I can muster. My knees bend so I am able to reach Jake’s height. “I know you don’t want to be at this camp, and I appreciate that. But do you really have to take your anger out on me? I haven’t done anything to you...”

            “Piss off.”

            And there’s my answer. Maybe I should just stop talking to Jake altogether.

            That would probably be the best plan.

            Before I can throw my hands around Jake’s throat or scream a threatening insult at him that would probably get me fired, the door flies open for a second time. If that’s Cindy again, I swear, I’ll rip those stupid blonde curls out of her...

            “Everything okay in here, Bailey?”

            Immediately, I whip round. Time for round two of fake smiles. “Fine, thanks, Jenny!”

            The auburn haired girl returns my smile, although not as enthusiastically. This probably means I am overdoing it... which in turn only makes it more obvious that I don’t have a clue what I’m meant to be doing.

            Since when did acting get so complicated?

            Oh yeah, since I signed up for this camp.

            “That’s great,” she says, but then her eyes flicker to the boys behind me – none of which are even holding their instruments, or looking remotely interested in what they are (supposed to be) doing.

            “We’re on a break,” I say quickly. “Been working so hard, you know?”

            “And your practice is coming along okay?”

            “Yeah, it’s fantastic!” Well, a little white lie never hurt anyone, did it? “Couldn’t be better.”

            Well, it could be better if we actually had something to play, but we won’t mention that part.

            “Oh, good,” Jenny replies. For some reason, she looks... relieved? Now I’m damn right insulted. Did she think I wasn’t capable of putting a simple piece together? Did she think I applied for this job without a single ounce of musical knowledge?

            I know it’s true, but that’s hardly the point.

            “You know, if you’re finding it tough or you need some help, just ask,” she tells me, with a small smile. “Well, I’m off to go check on some of the others. Have fun!”

            “Oh, we will,” I say, as I watch her turn and head towards the door.

            I’m not entirely sure why, but I have a funny feeling we won’t.

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Not sure about this chapter. It doesn't really fit in with the story too well, but I don't have the heart to take it out, haha :P Just to warn you, there won't be a scene where they actually perform, because I didn't write one. That's why I think it doesn't fit too well. But hey ho, hope its okay anyway :)

I love you all! It's funny, 'cause each chapter doesn't get anywhere near as many reads as Serenity Falls (this gets about 100, SF gets 500) but I get so many more comments :P Pleaaaaase don't be a silent reader! I LOVE COMMENTS. That is all <3