Discovering Jordan

Chapter 2: Coincidence?

Hey, loves. Back with chapter 2. :)

Enjoy. ;)

* * *

School offices always tend to have that stale smell when you first walk in. Imagine that times twenty, and you've got the main office of my high school.

"What can I do for you?" the old woman behind the front desk asks stiffly, lips curled distastefully at my jean skirt.

"I have an appointment with Miss Budder," I respond as politely as possible, even throwing in one of my semi-charming smiles.

She eyes me from below her wrinkles for a moment before writing something down and nodding at me. I exhale and make my way towards Miss Budder's office.

"Rachelle!" she greets me enthusiastically, motioning towards the seat across from her. "Come, sit down!"

"It's actually Rachel," I state awkwardly, trying very hard not to sound too offended.

"Whatever you say, dear," Miss Budder says absently, her mouse clicking as she stares at her computer screen. "Period five is the one we need to fill, right?"

"Yep. It's empty, and I'm pretty sure you said I'd be able to take Strength and Conditioning," I say, tapping my fingers against my thigh and looking around the tight space. Pictures of unfamiliar faces coat the walls, and I assume them to be her children.

"Let me just check and see if there's room in that class," Miss Budder mutters, adjusting the spectacles resting on the bridge of her nose. After a moment more of clicking, she looks at me with pursed lips. "Nope. We have an opening in Speech One, Beginning Guitar, and Ceramics."

My eyebrows shoot up. "That's it?"

She nods, glancing back and forth between her monitor and me. "What'll it be?"

"U-uh," I stammer, doing a quick round of eeny-meeny-miney-mo in my head, "Ceramics?"

"Sure!" she chirps, mouse clicking and moving once more. "Oh―guess there's not an opening there, either." She looks at me expectantly.

"I-I can't play the guitar," I state incredulously. "I can barely hold one correctly."

Miss Budder shrugs. "That's why it's called Beginning Guitar, dear," she says, an impatient edge protruding in her usually jovial voice.

"Fine, sure. Beginning Guitar it is," I mutter, pinching the skin of my right temple between my fingers.

"Wonderful! Let me just go print your new schedule," she chimes, standing up and waddling out of the room.

It's at this time that I allow myself to groan and ram my head into her desk.

* * *

Feeling embarrassed, I open the door to the music room as quietly as possible. Knowing my luck, it doesn't seem to be a quiet entry at all.

The door slams into a rack of tambourines, successfully knocking them all over the ground with a loud clatter. The teacher sitting in front of the piano placed in the middle of the classroom jumps violently, and all of the students scattered across the bleachers turn their uninterested stares on me.

"Sorry!" I squeak, cheeks warming considerably as I scramble to pick the tambourines up and place them back on the rack.

"Who are you?" the teacher queries skeptically, causing me to look up from my task.

I blink and stand to attention. "Rachel, sir." I clear my throat and shuffle my feet awkwardly. "I was just transferred into your class about... five minutes ago."

Upon his uncomprehending look, I speed-walk over and hand him my new schedule.

After a moment more, he nods and gives it back to me. "Very well. You may take a seat in the second row." He motions in that general direction, and I begin to make my way over there.

"Oh, and Rachel?"

I pivot towards the teacher, my eyes catching on a familiar pair of brown ones.

We stare at one another while the teacher speaks.

"Do try not to knock anything else over."

A damn-near gleeful smirk curls Jordan's lips.

Well s**t.