A cacophony of drums, guitars and screaming blasted into one of Jasmines ears through a headphone as she made her way through the corridors of Patriot High. She had her bass slung across her back and a satchel that had the logo of her favourite band on it dangling by her side. She had just finished a class and had a whole free period that she was planning to play her bass in. She wanted to continue work on a composition of her own and was on her way to one of the music rooms to do just that. A suitable alternative to the music room would have been somewhere quiet where she could nap. She had been up the night before watching some new horror movies and had managed around 2 hours of sleep in total, if she was being generous. Not that she really cared; she'd stayed awake throughout the whole of music and had managed to avoid falling asleep in Maths. History however was coming up later in the day and she wasn't sure if there was any work she had been supposed to do for it.
Jasmine briefly wondered where Ash was, it was always fun to practice with the other member of the band; even if they didn't have a name yet...or a drummer for that matter. Jasmine had been meaning to ask Ash about vocals as well, since they'd never really discussed it. Jasmine had never actually tried to sing properly before. Sure there were times she had sung along to a song when she had been playing it loudly due to being the only person in the house...or to annoy Topaz but proper singing, she'd never attempted it. She was curious as to how difficult it would be, because people had singing lessons so obviously it required skill as well as actual singing talent. Two things Jasmine was yet to discover she had. She had skill and talent on bass, but that was different. It didn't require the use of her vocal cords, unless she ended up doing backing vocals.
Jasmine pushed open the door of the first music room she reached. Luckily for her it was empty; it would've been embarrassing to crash a class that was in progress. But at least the teacher wouldn't have been able to fault her for trying to practice. She threw her satchel on the floor by the teacher’s desk and carefully took her bass off her shoulder. Opening the case she kept her bass in she gently laid it out on a desk before pausing her music.
Picking the bass up she looped the strap over her shoulder and strummed a few notes to check the tuning. She adjusted it so that it was a deeper pitch and began to play a basic rhythm. She felt like warming up and playing about before putting solid work into her own composition. It always worked better that way.
Drop the D
The day was not off to a great start for Gerald. With a competition coming up soon his coach on the track team was pushing him hard in practice and the strain was starting to wear him down; fast though he might be Gerald wasn’t built for endurance and there simply weren’t enough hours in the night for him to fully recover from the physical exertion and Gerald was increasingly finding his waking hours plagued with aching joints and residual tiredness.
As he walked down the hallways of the school at random, having just been let out of his last class, he could feel the effects of yesterdays training session still bothering him. His feel felt leaden and his backpack weighed heavily on his shoulders; he placed his left hand over his right shoulder and rotated the joint, trying to work at a kink in the process.
The teen’s attempts to rectify this by catching up on his sleep during lessons weren’t going very well either. For some reason his teachers were reluctant to let him snore his way through their classes and he kept being rudely awoken, his last attempt netting him a detention later in the week as well. Still he had a free period next and if he could just find a nice, quiet, secluded corner somewhere he’d be set; he doubted he could get to sleep at this point but he could at least wind down and rest.
Gerald was about to set about doing just that when he spotted one of the last people he wanted to see enter the hallway from the opposite end. One of his more persistent aggressors had just made an appearance, currently distracted by a conversation he was having with a couple of his friends. He didn’t appear to have spotted Gerald just yet among the small number of students between them – one of the benefits of being so short – and the teen sought to use the opening to get away clean before he could. He just did not have the energy to deal with this guy today.
Seeing no other convenient escape avenues Gerald went straight for the door that stood a few feet in front and to the right of him, ducking into the classroom and closing the door without bothering to check whether it was occupied or not. Turning around he was somewhat relieved to find that he hadn’t just crashed a class and that the room was indeed unoccupied.
Well, mostly. There was one other person in the not-so-empty classroom; a girl was stood near to the teacher’s desk, instrument in hand, apparently seeking to use the room during her free period as well. Gerald quickly looked her over, taking in her appearance. She didn’t seem familiar too him, she didn’t look like any of the girls from his classes; he was pretty sure he would have noticed her otherwise, what with her dark clothing, pierced lip and single strip of dyed hair. She didn’t look like most of the other girls in this school.
Seeking to say something before things got awkward, Gerald started things off with a “’Sup”, before following it with, “Nice guitar.”
As he walked down the hallways of the school at random, having just been let out of his last class, he could feel the effects of yesterdays training session still bothering him. His feel felt leaden and his backpack weighed heavily on his shoulders; he placed his left hand over his right shoulder and rotated the joint, trying to work at a kink in the process.
The teen’s attempts to rectify this by catching up on his sleep during lessons weren’t going very well either. For some reason his teachers were reluctant to let him snore his way through their classes and he kept being rudely awoken, his last attempt netting him a detention later in the week as well. Still he had a free period next and if he could just find a nice, quiet, secluded corner somewhere he’d be set; he doubted he could get to sleep at this point but he could at least wind down and rest.
Gerald was about to set about doing just that when he spotted one of the last people he wanted to see enter the hallway from the opposite end. One of his more persistent aggressors had just made an appearance, currently distracted by a conversation he was having with a couple of his friends. He didn’t appear to have spotted Gerald just yet among the small number of students between them – one of the benefits of being so short – and the teen sought to use the opening to get away clean before he could. He just did not have the energy to deal with this guy today.
Seeing no other convenient escape avenues Gerald went straight for the door that stood a few feet in front and to the right of him, ducking into the classroom and closing the door without bothering to check whether it was occupied or not. Turning around he was somewhat relieved to find that he hadn’t just crashed a class and that the room was indeed unoccupied.
Well, mostly. There was one other person in the not-so-empty classroom; a girl was stood near to the teacher’s desk, instrument in hand, apparently seeking to use the room during her free period as well. Gerald quickly looked her over, taking in her appearance. She didn’t seem familiar too him, she didn’t look like any of the girls from his classes; he was pretty sure he would have noticed her otherwise, what with her dark clothing, pierced lip and single strip of dyed hair. She didn’t look like most of the other girls in this school.
Seeking to say something before things got awkward, Gerald started things off with a “’Sup”, before following it with, “Nice guitar.”
Jasmine was speeding the rhythm up and adding in her own parts as she got more warmed up. It felt good to play her bass since she hadn't had a chance at any other time during the day. She was also having fun for one of the first times in the day, sure she put effort into subjects other than music but that didn't mean she had to enjoy them. She hit her fastest playing speed, not that she ever actually played songs that fast since it generally didn't sound too great but she was just warming up and messing around. As she started to speed through the rhythm however someone else entered the room and broke her concentration.
Jasmine slapped her hand down onto the strings to stop any more sound being produced and looked up at the intruder. As it turned out the person who had interrupted her wasn't a teacher who wanted her to leave the room, which was a relief. It was however a Hispanic looking boy. There wasn't actually much of him to look at either, he looked to be considerably shorter than Jasmine herself and probably weighed 100lbs when soaking wet and holding two bricks. Regardless though he had barged into the room and disrupted Jasmine's practice, add to that the fact he looked to be part Hispanic at the least and Jasmine didn't want to acknowledge him.
Unfortunately he started talking to her. At least he complimented her bass guitar, god knows it had cost her parents enough but it had easily paid back that money in sheer terms of use. Jasmine couldn't remember a day when she hadn't played it at least once. So there was nothing to complain about there. The boy talking to her presented a problem though. Jasmine had never talked to minorities; her father had told her so many stories about all the minorities that were criminals. He always seemed to be working on a case involving a minority stealing something or killing someone. Jasmine saw no reason why he'd lie about his work plus it was well known that minorities weren't to be trusted.
Instead of responding to what he had said Jasmine just did a sort of half shrug and turned away. She had come into the room to practice and she didn't want to speak to a minority. He could stay in the room but Jasmine hoped he'd realise she wasn't going to actually say anything to her; she also hoped he didn't try to take any of her things. Since the bag alone had cost her about $50 and that wasn't counting anything she had in it, like her phone. She started to gently strum on the strings again; she wasn't sure what she wanted to play now that she'd been interrupted so she just settled for a song by her favourite band. It didn't require as much effort as working out a new composition.
Jasmine slapped her hand down onto the strings to stop any more sound being produced and looked up at the intruder. As it turned out the person who had interrupted her wasn't a teacher who wanted her to leave the room, which was a relief. It was however a Hispanic looking boy. There wasn't actually much of him to look at either, he looked to be considerably shorter than Jasmine herself and probably weighed 100lbs when soaking wet and holding two bricks. Regardless though he had barged into the room and disrupted Jasmine's practice, add to that the fact he looked to be part Hispanic at the least and Jasmine didn't want to acknowledge him.
Unfortunately he started talking to her. At least he complimented her bass guitar, god knows it had cost her parents enough but it had easily paid back that money in sheer terms of use. Jasmine couldn't remember a day when she hadn't played it at least once. So there was nothing to complain about there. The boy talking to her presented a problem though. Jasmine had never talked to minorities; her father had told her so many stories about all the minorities that were criminals. He always seemed to be working on a case involving a minority stealing something or killing someone. Jasmine saw no reason why he'd lie about his work plus it was well known that minorities weren't to be trusted.
Instead of responding to what he had said Jasmine just did a sort of half shrug and turned away. She had come into the room to practice and she didn't want to speak to a minority. He could stay in the room but Jasmine hoped he'd realise she wasn't going to actually say anything to her; she also hoped he didn't try to take any of her things. Since the bag alone had cost her about $50 and that wasn't counting anything she had in it, like her phone. She started to gently strum on the strings again; she wasn't sure what she wanted to play now that she'd been interrupted so she just settled for a song by her favourite band. It didn't require as much effort as working out a new composition.
Josie sighed as she shuffled through the hallway toward her locker. Today was not going very well. First, she had had to skip lunch in order to work on the math homework that she had forgotten the previous night, so she was stuck eating it during free period. Then, on her way outside, she had stepped in a puddle of water, soaking her shoes and socks, and to top it all off, once she had made it across the parking lot, she realized that she had left her lunch in her locker!
So, here she was, back inside. She smiled a little at the squeaking of her shoes on the tiled floor as she reached her locker. She quickly opened her locker and pulled out her paper lunch bag as well as a few things that she needed for her next class. After closing and locking her locker door, she turned and headed down the hallway.
As she walked, she heard a door slam shut not far from where she was. Upon further listening, the sound of music began to emanate from that direction as well. Intrigued, Josie walked toward the classroom, gripping her lunch bag.
As she opened the door, she was greeted by the sight of two people. The first was a boy not much taller than Josie was. She recognised him from a couple of her classes, Gerald something. She doubted that he'd be able to recognise her, seeing as they hadn't really spoken before and he had slept through most of the classes that they had together. After piecing this together, Josie turned her head to the girl who was playing the guitar. She hadn't really spoken to her before, but she looked interesting. Not many people at school dyed their hair, and Josie didn't know anyone who played guitar.
Clutching her lunch bag, she walked into the room and waved at the others. She tried to give a smile as she pulled up another chair and sat down, eager to make a good first impression. She turned to face the girl with the guitar and waved.
"Um, hi!"
So, here she was, back inside. She smiled a little at the squeaking of her shoes on the tiled floor as she reached her locker. She quickly opened her locker and pulled out her paper lunch bag as well as a few things that she needed for her next class. After closing and locking her locker door, she turned and headed down the hallway.
As she walked, she heard a door slam shut not far from where she was. Upon further listening, the sound of music began to emanate from that direction as well. Intrigued, Josie walked toward the classroom, gripping her lunch bag.
As she opened the door, she was greeted by the sight of two people. The first was a boy not much taller than Josie was. She recognised him from a couple of her classes, Gerald something. She doubted that he'd be able to recognise her, seeing as they hadn't really spoken before and he had slept through most of the classes that they had together. After piecing this together, Josie turned her head to the girl who was playing the guitar. She hadn't really spoken to her before, but she looked interesting. Not many people at school dyed their hair, and Josie didn't know anyone who played guitar.
Clutching her lunch bag, she walked into the room and waved at the others. She tried to give a smile as she pulled up another chair and sat down, eager to make a good first impression. She turned to face the girl with the guitar and waved.
"Um, hi!"
Gerald frowned at the lack of response from the girl. He wouldn’t have minded if all she replied to his comment with was a shrug, after all the statement wasn’t much of a conversation starter, but the way she immediately turned her attention back to the instrument and didn’t look to him again made it seem like she was going out of her way to ignore him. That kind of reaction didn’t really sit well with him.
It wasn’t enough for him to comment on, not enough to make something of it, but the way he was being dismissed kind of irked him.
Despite her seeming unwillingness to engage him in any way the girl didn’t seem too put out by his presence in the room and that was good because he wasn’t going anywhere just yet; at least not until he felt enough time had passed that the hallways would have cleared of people he didn’t want to see.
The teen crossed his arms over his chest and settled into waiting, figuring he would give it at least ten minutes just to be safe, occupying his time by listening to the girl strum idly at her guitar, letting the notes fill in the silence with white noise and trying to figure out what song she was trying to play.
It was probably all of twenty or thirty seconds before he started to grow tired of this, feeling the urge to fidget building up within him; standing still and quiet had never been things Gerald had excelled at. Just before the urge to start tapping his foot came into play he turned his head back towards the girl with the shock of blonde hair and opened his mouth to say something, figuring he would at least attempt at a conversation again, to fill his time and ease his tension if nothing else.
Before he could get a word out however his attention was caught by the door to the room opening up again to admit a third person to the room. This one was another girl, one that this time Gerald felt he recognised from some of his lessons. Probably. Possibly… Maybe?
… He needed to pay more attention in his classes.
Whether he recognised her or not didn’t matter much as she seemed not to have much interest in him. She gave him a casual glance, noting his presence in the room before pulling up a chair and turning to face the girl with the guitar.
“Um, hi!”
Seeing as how the greeting wasn’t aimed at him Gerald just settled back into his chair, turning his head to look at each girl in turn like a spectator at a tennis match, wondering whether this newcomer would get snubbed like he did or if it was just him she didn’t want to speak to.
It wasn’t enough for him to comment on, not enough to make something of it, but the way he was being dismissed kind of irked him.
Despite her seeming unwillingness to engage him in any way the girl didn’t seem too put out by his presence in the room and that was good because he wasn’t going anywhere just yet; at least not until he felt enough time had passed that the hallways would have cleared of people he didn’t want to see.
The teen crossed his arms over his chest and settled into waiting, figuring he would give it at least ten minutes just to be safe, occupying his time by listening to the girl strum idly at her guitar, letting the notes fill in the silence with white noise and trying to figure out what song she was trying to play.
It was probably all of twenty or thirty seconds before he started to grow tired of this, feeling the urge to fidget building up within him; standing still and quiet had never been things Gerald had excelled at. Just before the urge to start tapping his foot came into play he turned his head back towards the girl with the shock of blonde hair and opened his mouth to say something, figuring he would at least attempt at a conversation again, to fill his time and ease his tension if nothing else.
Before he could get a word out however his attention was caught by the door to the room opening up again to admit a third person to the room. This one was another girl, one that this time Gerald felt he recognised from some of his lessons. Probably. Possibly… Maybe?
… He needed to pay more attention in his classes.
Whether he recognised her or not didn’t matter much as she seemed not to have much interest in him. She gave him a casual glance, noting his presence in the room before pulling up a chair and turning to face the girl with the guitar.
“Um, hi!”
Seeing as how the greeting wasn’t aimed at him Gerald just settled back into his chair, turning his head to look at each girl in turn like a spectator at a tennis match, wondering whether this newcomer would get snubbed like he did or if it was just him she didn’t want to speak to.
Jasmine was painfully aware of the boy’s presence as she continued to strum out the song. It didn't look like he was going to leave. That or he had decided that he would stay in the room for the duration of the free period. Both of the possibilities were incredibly awkward since Jasmine really didn't want to talk to him. Luckily he hadn't tried to talk to her again which meant she could at least play in peace. Although she really wanted to work on her composition and she was still unsure about working on it with someone else in the room. The only person she would really consider playing an unfinished piece in front of was Ash, and that was only because they were in a band together.
Playing a song she had played countless times before was boring for Jasmine though so she decided to play her composition. It wasn't like the boy had any right to ask her to stop. She had already been in the room when he had barged in so if he didn't like what she was playing he could just leave. It would suit Jasmine just fine because then she could practice in peace and not have the feeling that she was being watched and judged because it irked her; especially when she was practicing. She wouldn't normally mind but it wasn't a song that had been written by one of the bands she liked. It was a song she had written herself and it made it that much more personal.
She stopped playing to get her drink out of her bag, glancing at the boy as she did so. He had settled himself into a chair, so it looked like he had no intention of leaving the room. Jasmine took a couple of sips from her drink and placed it on the teacher’s desk when she was done. She crouched down again to take out a pen and her notepad. Flipping through the pages Jasmine realised that she had a lot of notes that she needed to catch up on. That was one of the problems with having horror movie marathons that ran through the night though. Eventually she found the page that had all the ideas she'd written down for her composition; which mostly consisted of messy handwriting of possible lyrics and the chords she was using. She set the notebook down on the table as well; making sure it was open to the right page.
Jasmine started to slowly strum out the intro of her song. The intro slowly built up to a break where the song started properly. As she was about to hit the break however she was interrupted by the sound of the door opening and someone greeting her. For the second time Jasmine brought her hand down on the strings of her bass to stop them making any noise and turned to greet the newcomer. She was disappointed by what she saw. A small Asian girl with glasses had entered the room. She was somehow smaller than the boy which was saying something. It occurred to Jasmine that the girl had greeted her and it would've been rude not to reply but she had successfully ignored the boy for his entire stay in the room so it didn't seem like a stretch to ignore another person. She gave another half-hearted shrug instead of actually replying and took another sip from her drink before starting to play the song again. Maybe she could get through it without being interrupted; but if her luck so far was anything to go by it was unlikely. She'd just have to deal with it.
It wasn't like it was a hard task. Just ignore the two other people in the room and continue to play her bass. If she got lucky they'd get bored and leave. If she was unlucky they'd stay and she'd have to spend her entire free period with them watching her. Jasmine definitely preferred the first option but that would only happen if both of the other occupants of the room left and since the boy had pulled up a chair that looked unlikely. So instead she'd just have to make do.
Playing a song she had played countless times before was boring for Jasmine though so she decided to play her composition. It wasn't like the boy had any right to ask her to stop. She had already been in the room when he had barged in so if he didn't like what she was playing he could just leave. It would suit Jasmine just fine because then she could practice in peace and not have the feeling that she was being watched and judged because it irked her; especially when she was practicing. She wouldn't normally mind but it wasn't a song that had been written by one of the bands she liked. It was a song she had written herself and it made it that much more personal.
She stopped playing to get her drink out of her bag, glancing at the boy as she did so. He had settled himself into a chair, so it looked like he had no intention of leaving the room. Jasmine took a couple of sips from her drink and placed it on the teacher’s desk when she was done. She crouched down again to take out a pen and her notepad. Flipping through the pages Jasmine realised that she had a lot of notes that she needed to catch up on. That was one of the problems with having horror movie marathons that ran through the night though. Eventually she found the page that had all the ideas she'd written down for her composition; which mostly consisted of messy handwriting of possible lyrics and the chords she was using. She set the notebook down on the table as well; making sure it was open to the right page.
Jasmine started to slowly strum out the intro of her song. The intro slowly built up to a break where the song started properly. As she was about to hit the break however she was interrupted by the sound of the door opening and someone greeting her. For the second time Jasmine brought her hand down on the strings of her bass to stop them making any noise and turned to greet the newcomer. She was disappointed by what she saw. A small Asian girl with glasses had entered the room. She was somehow smaller than the boy which was saying something. It occurred to Jasmine that the girl had greeted her and it would've been rude not to reply but she had successfully ignored the boy for his entire stay in the room so it didn't seem like a stretch to ignore another person. She gave another half-hearted shrug instead of actually replying and took another sip from her drink before starting to play the song again. Maybe she could get through it without being interrupted; but if her luck so far was anything to go by it was unlikely. She'd just have to deal with it.
It wasn't like it was a hard task. Just ignore the two other people in the room and continue to play her bass. If she got lucky they'd get bored and leave. If she was unlucky they'd stay and she'd have to spend her entire free period with them watching her. Jasmine definitely preferred the first option but that would only happen if both of the other occupants of the room left and since the boy had pulled up a chair that looked unlikely. So instead she'd just have to make do.
((I'm really sorry for the lateness of this post guys...))
Josie waited a minute or so for a response from the girl. When none seemed forthcoming, she gave an awkward smile as she sat in her chair. She looked over at the boy next to her, who wasn't speaking either. The tense atmosphere in the room was almost suffocating.
After a few more minutes, Josie began to rise from her chair. She could that she wasn't welcome here. Hopefully she wasn't interrupting anything between the two of them. She gathered her books and her lunch bag as she stood.
Looking from one person to another, she pondered what she should say. After a few seconds, she cleared her throat and spoke:
"Um, sorry guys, but I just remembered that I, um, had some homework for next period, so I, um, need to get going now. I hope that I didn't interrupt anything between the two of you. Bye!"
Josie waved at the two of them before attempting to adjust the positions of the things she was carrying. Once they were in a comfortable position, she hurried out the door, hoping to leave this awkward situation behind.
((Josephine Luu continued elsewhere))
Josie waited a minute or so for a response from the girl. When none seemed forthcoming, she gave an awkward smile as she sat in her chair. She looked over at the boy next to her, who wasn't speaking either. The tense atmosphere in the room was almost suffocating.
After a few more minutes, Josie began to rise from her chair. She could that she wasn't welcome here. Hopefully she wasn't interrupting anything between the two of them. She gathered her books and her lunch bag as she stood.
Looking from one person to another, she pondered what she should say. After a few seconds, she cleared her throat and spoke:
"Um, sorry guys, but I just remembered that I, um, had some homework for next period, so I, um, need to get going now. I hope that I didn't interrupt anything between the two of you. Bye!"
Josie waved at the two of them before attempting to adjust the positions of the things she was carrying. Once they were in a comfortable position, she hurried out the door, hoping to leave this awkward situation behind.
((Josephine Luu continued elsewhere))
Well, that was awkward.
Gerald waited as the silence stretched out, waiting to see if the girl wit the bass would any other move to acknowledge him or the girl after the latter had introduced herself. He watched as the other girl began to gather up her belongings, make a half-hearted excuse and then hurrying out the door.
The teen felt a slight twinge of guilt at that; maybe he should have spoken up himself since the other girl clearly wasn’t going to. But then, even if he did things would still be awkward with the girl with the bass patently ignoring both of them and he wasn’t sure how well he could keep a conversation going by himself. Gerald just didn’t have too much experience talking to people his own age, not counting the other guys on the tack team or his aggressors; either way the conversation was usually followed by some running.
“Guess I should be glad it’s not just me you don’t want to talk to.” Gerald got the feeling it was pointless to keep trying to engage the girl in conversation. If she hadn’t broken and said something yet she probably wasn’t going to. Besides, the hallway was probably clear by this point and Gerald could be doing something more productive with his time than sitting in uncomfortable silence with a girl he didn’t know.
That said, Gerald had never been smart enough to just back down before and he wasn’t about to learn that lesson right now.
“I have to say though, what you’re doing is a little rude. If you want to be alone that’s fine but just come out and say it; it would be a lot better than this passive/aggressive silence you’re using.”
Gerald waited as the silence stretched out, waiting to see if the girl wit the bass would any other move to acknowledge him or the girl after the latter had introduced herself. He watched as the other girl began to gather up her belongings, make a half-hearted excuse and then hurrying out the door.
The teen felt a slight twinge of guilt at that; maybe he should have spoken up himself since the other girl clearly wasn’t going to. But then, even if he did things would still be awkward with the girl with the bass patently ignoring both of them and he wasn’t sure how well he could keep a conversation going by himself. Gerald just didn’t have too much experience talking to people his own age, not counting the other guys on the tack team or his aggressors; either way the conversation was usually followed by some running.
“Guess I should be glad it’s not just me you don’t want to talk to.” Gerald got the feeling it was pointless to keep trying to engage the girl in conversation. If she hadn’t broken and said something yet she probably wasn’t going to. Besides, the hallway was probably clear by this point and Gerald could be doing something more productive with his time than sitting in uncomfortable silence with a girl he didn’t know.
That said, Gerald had never been smart enough to just back down before and he wasn’t about to learn that lesson right now.
“I have to say though, what you’re doing is a little rude. If you want to be alone that’s fine but just come out and say it; it would be a lot better than this passive/aggressive silence you’re using.”
The other girl had just left. Jasmine didn't even know why she had bothered entering the room if all she was going to do was leave. But it didn't bother her. She just didn't have to put up with another person. Although the excuse she gave about needing to do some homework reeked of bullshit. Jasmine would've preferred it if the girl had just walked in and then walked straight out without a word. At least then she wasn't trying to justify what she was doing. Not like it mattered anyway. Jasmine just hoped it was the end of all the interruptions that had been plaguing her since she had entered the room. All she wanted to do was practice her bass. She had even taken the time to find a music room for once. It wasn't too much to ask for the world to just give her some quiet and not have people walk in and out of the room constantly. She'd put up with less interruptions when she had practiced in a maths room.
Whatever.
The boy was clearly sticking around so Jasmine was going to have to just carry on as if he wasn't there. Maybe it was just the way the lunch period was going or maybe it was just Jasmine expecting to be interrupted but she put her fingers near the strings and waited for a split-second before starting to play again. As soon as her fingers touched the strings though, the boy spoke.
"Godammit." It was more of a statement than anything else and it was under her breath but still the amount of times she had tried to play a song was getting ridiculous. The boy had only spoken to make a smartass remark about the fact Jasmine was ignoring people. It was so pointless she didn't know why he had bothered, maybe he just wanted to fuck with her. She didn't know. She hadn't even been expecting him to speak, he'd been quiet for the rest of his time in the room and she hadn't seen any reason for that to chance. Something had though, that much was clear. The fact he kept talking helped cement that theory.
Jasmine let out a loud sigh. She had preferred it when he hadn't talked to her. "There's nothing aggressive about ignoring someone. It just means I don't want to talk to you. If I was being aggressive I would have told you to leave as soon as you walked in." Jasmine didn't actually turn to look at him as she spoke, which almost made it seem like she was talking to herself. "Shouldn't be that hard to understand."
Whatever.
The boy was clearly sticking around so Jasmine was going to have to just carry on as if he wasn't there. Maybe it was just the way the lunch period was going or maybe it was just Jasmine expecting to be interrupted but she put her fingers near the strings and waited for a split-second before starting to play again. As soon as her fingers touched the strings though, the boy spoke.
"Godammit." It was more of a statement than anything else and it was under her breath but still the amount of times she had tried to play a song was getting ridiculous. The boy had only spoken to make a smartass remark about the fact Jasmine was ignoring people. It was so pointless she didn't know why he had bothered, maybe he just wanted to fuck with her. She didn't know. She hadn't even been expecting him to speak, he'd been quiet for the rest of his time in the room and she hadn't seen any reason for that to chance. Something had though, that much was clear. The fact he kept talking helped cement that theory.
Jasmine let out a loud sigh. She had preferred it when he hadn't talked to her. "There's nothing aggressive about ignoring someone. It just means I don't want to talk to you. If I was being aggressive I would have told you to leave as soon as you walked in." Jasmine didn't actually turn to look at him as she spoke, which almost made it seem like she was talking to herself. "Shouldn't be that hard to understand."
Gerald creased his brow as the girl spoke: apparently something had been lost in translation with what he said. She was right that just ignoring someone wasn’t aggressive, it was worse in a way; by just sitting there and not acknowledging the other girl as she greeted her she created an awkward atmosphere in the room that forced the other girl to retreat as surely as if she had just told her to get lost.
And the girl with the bass couldn’t really be blamed for it because she was right, she wasn’t being aggressive, she was just choosing not to say anything and whatever the other girl did after that wasn’t her concern.
That sort of passive/aggressive approach always annoyed Gerald. The people who did that to him were the ones who made him the angriest. At least the bullies who chose to lash out at him physically or verbally were confronting him face on where he could do something about it, and he could respect that they at least judged him important enough to target. The people who just flat out ignored him made him feel like he was someone who could just be easily dismissed, unimportant. Like he was worth less than them.
This girl was like that. She wasn’t doing it to him because of race like the others, or at least he guessed it wasn’t because of that since she had ignored the other girl as well, but she was still ignoring him. Even now while she spoke she didn’t even look up at him, like she was just talking to herself, or voicing some idle thought out loud.
Normally in this situation Gerald probably would have just walked away. There was no point in trying to keep arguing with people like this as they could always just sit there and ignore anything you said, never reacting to anything you did. And there was nothing more frustrating than feeling like you were just beating your head against a brick wall like that.
The teen was about to do just that, when the girl had to throw out one more little comment.
"Shouldn't be that hard to understand."
Now, Gerald knew he wasn’t the smartest kid in school – he probably wasn’t even as smart as he thought he was – but it still bothered him when people called his intelligence into question, when people just assumed he was stupid, whatever logic they were using to reach that conclusion.
So, instead of leaving, Gerald did what he always did in these situations. Stood his ground, and pushed back.
“Why didn’t you do that? You don’t have to be aggressive about it, but what was wrong with just asking me to leave when I stepped through the door? I wouldn’t have listened, I had a reason for coming in here, for staying, but I would have left by now if you had just said that from the start.” Gerald leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest in a defiant posture. “So why did you just sit there and ignore us like we weren’t even here? Why won’t you look up at people while they’re speaking to you? Do you think you’re better than everyone else… or just better than me?”
And the girl with the bass couldn’t really be blamed for it because she was right, she wasn’t being aggressive, she was just choosing not to say anything and whatever the other girl did after that wasn’t her concern.
That sort of passive/aggressive approach always annoyed Gerald. The people who did that to him were the ones who made him the angriest. At least the bullies who chose to lash out at him physically or verbally were confronting him face on where he could do something about it, and he could respect that they at least judged him important enough to target. The people who just flat out ignored him made him feel like he was someone who could just be easily dismissed, unimportant. Like he was worth less than them.
This girl was like that. She wasn’t doing it to him because of race like the others, or at least he guessed it wasn’t because of that since she had ignored the other girl as well, but she was still ignoring him. Even now while she spoke she didn’t even look up at him, like she was just talking to herself, or voicing some idle thought out loud.
Normally in this situation Gerald probably would have just walked away. There was no point in trying to keep arguing with people like this as they could always just sit there and ignore anything you said, never reacting to anything you did. And there was nothing more frustrating than feeling like you were just beating your head against a brick wall like that.
The teen was about to do just that, when the girl had to throw out one more little comment.
"Shouldn't be that hard to understand."
Now, Gerald knew he wasn’t the smartest kid in school – he probably wasn’t even as smart as he thought he was – but it still bothered him when people called his intelligence into question, when people just assumed he was stupid, whatever logic they were using to reach that conclusion.
So, instead of leaving, Gerald did what he always did in these situations. Stood his ground, and pushed back.
“Why didn’t you do that? You don’t have to be aggressive about it, but what was wrong with just asking me to leave when I stepped through the door? I wouldn’t have listened, I had a reason for coming in here, for staying, but I would have left by now if you had just said that from the start.” Gerald leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest in a defiant posture. “So why did you just sit there and ignore us like we weren’t even here? Why won’t you look up at people while they’re speaking to you? Do you think you’re better than everyone else… or just better than me?”
Jasmine was starting to get fed up. It was clear she wasn't going to be able to practice at all, in part due to the constant interruptions and now due to the fact that she was in an argument with whoever this boy was. Seeing as he was a minority though it was likely he'd get aggressive. At least that's what Jasmine had been told and the people her father told her about did little to sway her opinion. It was annoying because he clearly knew Jasmine hadn't wanted to talk to him and would've preferred to be alone to practice. Yet he'd stayed and then had interrupted her while she was practicing.
He continued to talk though. Hell he sounded like once of her teachers when they gave her a lecture about falling asleep in class. It was a storm of rhetorical questions. It was a song she'd already heard. Same beat, different lyrics. Yet there was something more to it. Somewhere in all of his questions the boy had managed to hit a nerve. He'd accused Jasmine of thinking she was better than everyone else. Now it was common knowledge to the people who knew Jasmine that both of her parents were rich and successful, which in turn meant Jasmine had a comfortable lifestyle, and yes maybe she was spoiled from time to time by her parents. Jasmine herself never rubbed it in anyone's face. At least not on purpose or in any serious way.
But now someone who didn't even know her was accusing her of thinking she was better than everyone else. "I ignored you because you interrupted me when I just wanted to practice and I don't talk to minorities, since you're all criminals anyway."
That was the reasoning Jasmine had used for her whole life. All the stories she'd about minorities said that they were violent and aggressive criminals and those that weren't sold drugs and ripped people off. There was a slim chance that somewhere there was a respectable minority but if that person existed Jasmine hadn't heard about them, and neither had anyone else. Jasmine had never heard anything to disprove what she thought anyway. Jasmine could draw from first-hand experience since she tried hard not to talk to any minorities, but the boy wasn't doing anything to sway her opinion. If anything he was just reinforcing it. Jasmine couldn't stop herself from glancing at her bag to make sure it was still there. After all it was one of her favourite bags and had cost a lot of money. If the boy decided to steal it she wasn't going to be able to stop him, but as long as he didn't try taking her bass Jasmine would be fine.
She didn't feel any need to explain herself further. It wasn't as if she'd spoken to the boy much anyway. If anything she'd made it clear that she didn't have any interest in speaking to him. Then again it wasn't as if he'd paid any attention or taken that into consideration before, so she didn't expect him to take any notice of that. If how he'd reacted to her last comment was anything to go by though he wasn't going to shut up any time soon and was intent on arguing with everything she said. So why bother?
He continued to talk though. Hell he sounded like once of her teachers when they gave her a lecture about falling asleep in class. It was a storm of rhetorical questions. It was a song she'd already heard. Same beat, different lyrics. Yet there was something more to it. Somewhere in all of his questions the boy had managed to hit a nerve. He'd accused Jasmine of thinking she was better than everyone else. Now it was common knowledge to the people who knew Jasmine that both of her parents were rich and successful, which in turn meant Jasmine had a comfortable lifestyle, and yes maybe she was spoiled from time to time by her parents. Jasmine herself never rubbed it in anyone's face. At least not on purpose or in any serious way.
But now someone who didn't even know her was accusing her of thinking she was better than everyone else. "I ignored you because you interrupted me when I just wanted to practice and I don't talk to minorities, since you're all criminals anyway."
That was the reasoning Jasmine had used for her whole life. All the stories she'd about minorities said that they were violent and aggressive criminals and those that weren't sold drugs and ripped people off. There was a slim chance that somewhere there was a respectable minority but if that person existed Jasmine hadn't heard about them, and neither had anyone else. Jasmine had never heard anything to disprove what she thought anyway. Jasmine could draw from first-hand experience since she tried hard not to talk to any minorities, but the boy wasn't doing anything to sway her opinion. If anything he was just reinforcing it. Jasmine couldn't stop herself from glancing at her bag to make sure it was still there. After all it was one of her favourite bags and had cost a lot of money. If the boy decided to steal it she wasn't going to be able to stop him, but as long as he didn't try taking her bass Jasmine would be fine.
She didn't feel any need to explain herself further. It wasn't as if she'd spoken to the boy much anyway. If anything she'd made it clear that she didn't have any interest in speaking to him. Then again it wasn't as if he'd paid any attention or taken that into consideration before, so she didn't expect him to take any notice of that. If how he'd reacted to her last comment was anything to go by though he wasn't going to shut up any time soon and was intent on arguing with everything she said. So why bother?
You’re all criminals anyway.
Maybe Gerald should have been shocked by this, maybe insulted or offended, but he wasn’t.
He wasn’t shocked because honestly he had kind of expected this girl to hold those sorts of beliefs ever since he had walked into the room; he had just assumed that she was ignoring him because of his skin colour. When she had ignored that other girl as well he had considered that maybe he had thought wrong, but he wasn’t too surprised to find out his first assumption was more on the mark.
He wasn’t insulted or offended because, frankly, he was used to it. He had been suffering these kinds of assumptions for years; people labelling him a certain way because of who he was. His parents had even taken him aside early on in his life and flat out told him to expect this sort of thing from his peers at school, especially as he got older.
It had bothered him at first but as he grew older – and, indeed, as the bullying got worse – he just began to adapt. He started verbally jabbing back at his aggressors even as they did the same and worse to him, making them angry while he just let their comments bounce off of him, shielded by the fact that he knew nothing they said was true and the fact that when they inevitably lost their composure and tried to attack him he could get away unscathed thanks to his small size and agility.
That approach wouldn’t work here anyway. This girl wasn’t the kind of person to rise to such bait, he could tell – not visibly at least; inside she might be seething – nor was she wasn’t the kind of person to lash out physically either, he was guessing.
Gerald uncrossed his arms and shoved them into the pockets of his leather jacket instead, letting a wide, teeth-showing grin cross his face.
“So, you’re one of those people huh?”
Slouching down further in his seat Gerald settled in for the long haul and considered his words. Just because he wasn’t offended didn’t mean he was just going to let her get away with what she just said, to let here chase him off like she had the other girl. He’d be damned if he let her practice her guitar now.
What struck him about her statement was how she had said it. There was no malice behind the words, aside from her growing irritation at his presence at least, no anger; it was like she was stating a fact, a truth, saying it as if both she and him should know this to be true.
Looking away from the girl and staring off like he was looking at something in the distance, Gerald started speaking again.
“Where’d you get this idea all minorities are crooks anyway? I’ve never done anything illegal, neither has anyone else I know, minority or not. I’m a troublemaker sure, a nuisance, but I’m not a thief or a vandal or anything.” Gerald focused his eyes back on the girl. “So you can stop glancing over at your bag. It’s safe.”
Since he wasn’t expecting the girl to actually answer him he kept talking. He took his hands out of his pockets to gesture along with what he was saying.
“I’m guessing it was your parents. That’s the way this stuff usually works. They told you minorities are dishonest, untrustworthy, violent, criminals and, worst of all, unpatriotic.” Gerald ticked off each of these points on his hands before putting them back in his pockets. “I should know, I’ve been called most of those things.
“I’m guessing you’ve never actually spent enough time around people like me to find out one way or another whether this is true or not, but you trust mommy and daddy enough to believe it anyway. Besides, why take the risk of it being true?”
Gerald dropped his head back to lay it on the back of the chair, staring up at the ceiling of the classroom. His brow creased as he thought over what he had just said.
“Damn, that’s actually kind of sad when I lay it out like that. Fuck, now I’ve gone and made myself depressed.”
He held that position for a while, lapsing into a long silence as he let that sink in. In a shot his head snapped back up and when he turned to look as Jasmine the contemplative expression was gone from his face.
“Oh well. Hey, how long have you been playing that thing anyway? Did it take you long to learn?”
Maybe Gerald should have been shocked by this, maybe insulted or offended, but he wasn’t.
He wasn’t shocked because honestly he had kind of expected this girl to hold those sorts of beliefs ever since he had walked into the room; he had just assumed that she was ignoring him because of his skin colour. When she had ignored that other girl as well he had considered that maybe he had thought wrong, but he wasn’t too surprised to find out his first assumption was more on the mark.
He wasn’t insulted or offended because, frankly, he was used to it. He had been suffering these kinds of assumptions for years; people labelling him a certain way because of who he was. His parents had even taken him aside early on in his life and flat out told him to expect this sort of thing from his peers at school, especially as he got older.
It had bothered him at first but as he grew older – and, indeed, as the bullying got worse – he just began to adapt. He started verbally jabbing back at his aggressors even as they did the same and worse to him, making them angry while he just let their comments bounce off of him, shielded by the fact that he knew nothing they said was true and the fact that when they inevitably lost their composure and tried to attack him he could get away unscathed thanks to his small size and agility.
That approach wouldn’t work here anyway. This girl wasn’t the kind of person to rise to such bait, he could tell – not visibly at least; inside she might be seething – nor was she wasn’t the kind of person to lash out physically either, he was guessing.
Gerald uncrossed his arms and shoved them into the pockets of his leather jacket instead, letting a wide, teeth-showing grin cross his face.
“So, you’re one of those people huh?”
Slouching down further in his seat Gerald settled in for the long haul and considered his words. Just because he wasn’t offended didn’t mean he was just going to let her get away with what she just said, to let here chase him off like she had the other girl. He’d be damned if he let her practice her guitar now.
What struck him about her statement was how she had said it. There was no malice behind the words, aside from her growing irritation at his presence at least, no anger; it was like she was stating a fact, a truth, saying it as if both she and him should know this to be true.
Looking away from the girl and staring off like he was looking at something in the distance, Gerald started speaking again.
“Where’d you get this idea all minorities are crooks anyway? I’ve never done anything illegal, neither has anyone else I know, minority or not. I’m a troublemaker sure, a nuisance, but I’m not a thief or a vandal or anything.” Gerald focused his eyes back on the girl. “So you can stop glancing over at your bag. It’s safe.”
Since he wasn’t expecting the girl to actually answer him he kept talking. He took his hands out of his pockets to gesture along with what he was saying.
“I’m guessing it was your parents. That’s the way this stuff usually works. They told you minorities are dishonest, untrustworthy, violent, criminals and, worst of all, unpatriotic.” Gerald ticked off each of these points on his hands before putting them back in his pockets. “I should know, I’ve been called most of those things.
“I’m guessing you’ve never actually spent enough time around people like me to find out one way or another whether this is true or not, but you trust mommy and daddy enough to believe it anyway. Besides, why take the risk of it being true?”
Gerald dropped his head back to lay it on the back of the chair, staring up at the ceiling of the classroom. His brow creased as he thought over what he had just said.
“Damn, that’s actually kind of sad when I lay it out like that. Fuck, now I’ve gone and made myself depressed.”
He held that position for a while, lapsing into a long silence as he let that sink in. In a shot his head snapped back up and when he turned to look as Jasmine the contemplative expression was gone from his face.
“Oh well. Hey, how long have you been playing that thing anyway? Did it take you long to learn?”
The way the boy asked if Jasmine was one of those people made it clear it was a rhetorical question. It sounded like he was about to continue talking as well so Jasmine decided not to answer. At least he wasn't going to take her bag though. That was something she didn't need to worry about.
The boy then started asking her where she got her idea that minorities were criminals. The truth was she got it from the stories her father told her and Topaz every day at the dinner table. He worked as a lawyer and would always have stories from work that he would tell them. The stories always involved the prosecution of a minority for committing a crime. The crimes ranged from vandalism and thievery all the way up to homicide and armed robbery. Once he even had a story about a kidnapping. Sometimes the stories would be ones he was directly involved with and sometimes they would be cases that someone else at his work was involved with. But the content of the stories was always the same and they always had the same moral. Plus they were all true so it wasn't like her father had been coming home and lying to them every day of their lives.
He was right on one point though, she'd never spent a long time around minorities, because why take the risk. If what she had been told throughout her life was true...and she saw no reason for it not to be. Why would she take the risk of being around minorities when she was most likely going to get robbed at the least? Jasmine never really interacted with minorities anyway. She'd developed a habit of ignoring them completely whenever they were around her. Since she was rarely near minorities though it was hardly ever an issue, but this boy had turned it into one. Jasmine wished he had been like the girl and had just left as soon as he'd walked in. Then she would have been able to practice and had a productive free period. Instead she was now talking to a Latino boy. Something she never wanted to do. Although the sudden shift in the subject of his talking was unexpected then again he was asking about her bass.
"I got this for my thirteenth birthday. My parents paid for lessons and I play every day. It's the thing I own that I care about most." Jasmine unconsciously ran a hand along her bass as she spoke. She then turned to face the boy properly for the first time since the conversation began. "And to answer your question my father's a lawyer. So he had to deal with minorities who broke the law every day. So he didn't just make things up." Jasmine went to turn back around but changed her mind. "And yeah I don't talk to or spend much time around minorities, because I don't want to get robbed."
Jasmine had preferred the part where she'd talked about her bass. It was the one thing she could never resist talking about. It was her most prized possession and she always had pride in the ability she had at playing it. It always made her feel good to know that she was skilled at something not everyone else was. The fact she was actually in a band was something else she'd wanted to be a part of since she'd started listening to heavy metal music. Her bass and love of music was one of the biggest parts of her life. She always made it a point to practice for four hours a day even if that meant going deep into the night. Not that it really mattered since she'd just watch horror movies until the early hours of the morning if she wasn't practicing.
"Honestly though no one else is ever this persistent so I've got to give you that."
The boy then started asking her where she got her idea that minorities were criminals. The truth was she got it from the stories her father told her and Topaz every day at the dinner table. He worked as a lawyer and would always have stories from work that he would tell them. The stories always involved the prosecution of a minority for committing a crime. The crimes ranged from vandalism and thievery all the way up to homicide and armed robbery. Once he even had a story about a kidnapping. Sometimes the stories would be ones he was directly involved with and sometimes they would be cases that someone else at his work was involved with. But the content of the stories was always the same and they always had the same moral. Plus they were all true so it wasn't like her father had been coming home and lying to them every day of their lives.
He was right on one point though, she'd never spent a long time around minorities, because why take the risk. If what she had been told throughout her life was true...and she saw no reason for it not to be. Why would she take the risk of being around minorities when she was most likely going to get robbed at the least? Jasmine never really interacted with minorities anyway. She'd developed a habit of ignoring them completely whenever they were around her. Since she was rarely near minorities though it was hardly ever an issue, but this boy had turned it into one. Jasmine wished he had been like the girl and had just left as soon as he'd walked in. Then she would have been able to practice and had a productive free period. Instead she was now talking to a Latino boy. Something she never wanted to do. Although the sudden shift in the subject of his talking was unexpected then again he was asking about her bass.
"I got this for my thirteenth birthday. My parents paid for lessons and I play every day. It's the thing I own that I care about most." Jasmine unconsciously ran a hand along her bass as she spoke. She then turned to face the boy properly for the first time since the conversation began. "And to answer your question my father's a lawyer. So he had to deal with minorities who broke the law every day. So he didn't just make things up." Jasmine went to turn back around but changed her mind. "And yeah I don't talk to or spend much time around minorities, because I don't want to get robbed."
Jasmine had preferred the part where she'd talked about her bass. It was the one thing she could never resist talking about. It was her most prized possession and she always had pride in the ability she had at playing it. It always made her feel good to know that she was skilled at something not everyone else was. The fact she was actually in a band was something else she'd wanted to be a part of since she'd started listening to heavy metal music. Her bass and love of music was one of the biggest parts of her life. She always made it a point to practice for four hours a day even if that meant going deep into the night. Not that it really mattered since she'd just watch horror movies until the early hours of the morning if she wasn't practicing.
"Honestly though no one else is ever this persistent so I've got to give you that."
Huh, that was an unexpected reaction. Gerald had been expected nothing but more silence in response to what he had just said, in fact except for that last part about the bass he was treating the conversation more like he was talking to himself that to another person. But then she went and answered him with full sentences, she actually turned to look at him for the first time since he had arrived. And was that an actual compliment?
It seemed like all Gerald had to do to get the girl to open up was find the right conversation point; as much as she didn’t like minorities it seemed as if the girl couldn’t resist talking about her instrument. It even got her to respond to his other comments as well and reveal that her father was a lawyer.
“I don’t think I’d have the patience for that, playing an instrument I mean. Maybe drums since it’s like a full body exercise, but I get the feeling if I didn’t see results right away from the practise I’d give up really quickly. I’m like that with everything; can’t focus if I’m sitting still for too long.”
To keep things going Gerald came up with a rough plan; talk to her about her bass to get her to respond, then work in other parts of the conversation alongside it. And, since she had been opening up about herself it was only fair that he do the same, offer a little quid pro quo.
“Cars seem to be the exception; you know, working on engines. My parents bought me an old car, a real hung of junk, so me and my dad would have something to work on together.” Gerald seemed to drift off slightly as he thought about it, small grin spreading across his face as he did so. “We’re having to replace so many parts on the thing it’s probably going to be a completely different car by the time we finish. Don’t know why I don’t get bored or frustrated with engines like I do everything else though, even when we go weeks without making any progress on it. Guess they just focus me.”
Gerald’s focus came back into the room and he turned his head to look at Jasmine, who had yet to turn back away from him. So far so good apparently.
“So you’re dads a lawyer? Guess that makes sense. Of course he has to deal with people who break the law all day, that’s his job. Does he only ever tell you stories about the minorities who get arrested though? He doesn’t tell you about all the white people stealing and shooting people? It’s not like only people with dark skin do that kind of stuff.”
Heavy stuff over, time for the segue.
“So are you in a band? Or want to be at least? It sounds like more than just a hobby to you.”
It seemed like all Gerald had to do to get the girl to open up was find the right conversation point; as much as she didn’t like minorities it seemed as if the girl couldn’t resist talking about her instrument. It even got her to respond to his other comments as well and reveal that her father was a lawyer.
“I don’t think I’d have the patience for that, playing an instrument I mean. Maybe drums since it’s like a full body exercise, but I get the feeling if I didn’t see results right away from the practise I’d give up really quickly. I’m like that with everything; can’t focus if I’m sitting still for too long.”
To keep things going Gerald came up with a rough plan; talk to her about her bass to get her to respond, then work in other parts of the conversation alongside it. And, since she had been opening up about herself it was only fair that he do the same, offer a little quid pro quo.
“Cars seem to be the exception; you know, working on engines. My parents bought me an old car, a real hung of junk, so me and my dad would have something to work on together.” Gerald seemed to drift off slightly as he thought about it, small grin spreading across his face as he did so. “We’re having to replace so many parts on the thing it’s probably going to be a completely different car by the time we finish. Don’t know why I don’t get bored or frustrated with engines like I do everything else though, even when we go weeks without making any progress on it. Guess they just focus me.”
Gerald’s focus came back into the room and he turned his head to look at Jasmine, who had yet to turn back away from him. So far so good apparently.
“So you’re dads a lawyer? Guess that makes sense. Of course he has to deal with people who break the law all day, that’s his job. Does he only ever tell you stories about the minorities who get arrested though? He doesn’t tell you about all the white people stealing and shooting people? It’s not like only people with dark skin do that kind of stuff.”
Heavy stuff over, time for the segue.
“So are you in a band? Or want to be at least? It sounds like more than just a hobby to you.”
There was a short delay in between Jasmine finishing what she was saying and the boy speaking again, when he did though he was talking about playing an instrument. Jasmine couldn't imagine him playing the drums especially if he gave up easily. It took time to learn how to play an instrument properly, especially an instrument like the drums that require a lot of co-ordination and concentration since you were using three limbs at a minimum. Jasmine had never tried to play the drums herself since she'd never felt the urge to really play anything besides her bass but she'd been around people trying to learn enough times to know it was difficult.
The boy then started to talk about cars which made Jasmine zone out completely. She absentmindedly fiddled with the strings on her bass and played a small tune as he talked. The main thoughts going around in her head were mostly her wondering how she'd ended up actually talking to a minority. It was supposed to be a rule she had about not talking to them. Although the one she was talking too had said he had no intention of stealing her bag, so he couldn't be all bad. Jasmine still didn't fully trust him though; there was always the chance he was lying. She wouldn't put it passed him, although from the way he was talking it didn't look like he was planning anything. Jasmine played around with the tune she was playing and started to slap the strings to see what sound it produced. She was starting to drift off when she heard the boy ask a question.
She nodded her assent when he asked if her father was a lawyer. Jasmine could already see where the question was leading and she didn't know if she'd be able to answer it. The follow-up question of whether or not her father had ever told her and Topaz about the white people who committed crimes made Jasmine stop and think. Sure she'd always been aware that other Americans committed crimes but they were never really given the same coverage or brought up as much by their parents. Even when they were her father would normally just say they were traitors. It always seemed like the number of minorities committing crimes outnumbered the traitors when it came to committing crimes anyway.
"They're traitors, so they don't count. Plus more minorities commit crimes than whites anyway." Jasmine said before turning back around. "And I'm in a band; my one goal is to be a famous musician so yeah it's a little bit more than a hobby."
Jasmine couldn't keep the edge from her voice. He'd annoyed her by bringing up another stupid question about minorities; they'd at least been having a semi-decent conversation about music for a short time there. But he had to go and ruin it. The way he was talking almost made it seem like he was trying to set the conversation up so that she talked about her views on minorities and that was a subject Jasmine considered extremely boring.
The boy then started to talk about cars which made Jasmine zone out completely. She absentmindedly fiddled with the strings on her bass and played a small tune as he talked. The main thoughts going around in her head were mostly her wondering how she'd ended up actually talking to a minority. It was supposed to be a rule she had about not talking to them. Although the one she was talking too had said he had no intention of stealing her bag, so he couldn't be all bad. Jasmine still didn't fully trust him though; there was always the chance he was lying. She wouldn't put it passed him, although from the way he was talking it didn't look like he was planning anything. Jasmine played around with the tune she was playing and started to slap the strings to see what sound it produced. She was starting to drift off when she heard the boy ask a question.
She nodded her assent when he asked if her father was a lawyer. Jasmine could already see where the question was leading and she didn't know if she'd be able to answer it. The follow-up question of whether or not her father had ever told her and Topaz about the white people who committed crimes made Jasmine stop and think. Sure she'd always been aware that other Americans committed crimes but they were never really given the same coverage or brought up as much by their parents. Even when they were her father would normally just say they were traitors. It always seemed like the number of minorities committing crimes outnumbered the traitors when it came to committing crimes anyway.
"They're traitors, so they don't count. Plus more minorities commit crimes than whites anyway." Jasmine said before turning back around. "And I'm in a band; my one goal is to be a famous musician so yeah it's a little bit more than a hobby."
Jasmine couldn't keep the edge from her voice. He'd annoyed her by bringing up another stupid question about minorities; they'd at least been having a semi-decent conversation about music for a short time there. But he had to go and ruin it. The way he was talking almost made it seem like he was trying to set the conversation up so that she talked about her views on minorities and that was a subject Jasmine considered extremely boring.