Thanks for the reviews. I know it's not an action story, but that doesn't mean you have to hate it…

One, two, a-one-two-three-four!

Chapter 2 – Eva

Math was completely boring. English nearly made me fall asleep. Everything almost made me space out and daydream except for Advanced Guitar, which I look forward to. Every. Single. Day.

It was literally my only break from hell. My fourteen-year-old sister, Liana, and I both took something in music. She played the drum set, which she rocked at, and I chose the guitar to keep me sane.

I impatiently flipped back my dark hair, waiting for my Pre-Calc teacher to hand back our recently taken tests. He threw the test on my desk, and I picked it up right before it fell to the floor. My friend Christine, who also played the electric bass (extremely well, I might add) compared her test with mine. Hers had a few red marks on it, while mine had none. Another aced test.

"God," Christine sighed out in frustration. "How do you not get any of these problems wrong? It's just ridiculous!"

I shrugged. "I don't know… Maybe just because my parents are always freaking ragging on me about getting good grades so I can go to college, stuff like that." I shoved the test in my binder, earning me a paper cut in the process.

"Ow… Shoot!" I muttered, looking at the small red bead forming on the near-invisible line. It was just where I happened to position my guitar pick. "You don't happen to have a Band-Aid on you, do you?"

Christine took a look and grimaced. "Sorry, I don't. Dang… That's gonna suck during your competition."

I cursed internally, now reminded of why I'd been practicing every day for about an hour and a half. I just happened to get a paper cut on the day our guitar teacher was going to hold a competition for the next guitar soloist performance. It was a battle between me and another junior, Clarissa. She was hinting all week that she'd win, but I wasn't keen on letting that happen. Cue enormous sigh.

I tried to forget about the annoying little nick in my finger, but a small, irritating voice in the back of my head kept saying, That paper cut is going to screw up your solo. It kept disturbing my thoughts at basically the worst times, like when I was taking my English Literature test. Each time I told it to shut the heck up, it came back, louder in the silence.

I know most of you don't obsess about getting a guitar solo. But this was big, and this was my chance to get noticed. If I won this, I was going to play onstage at the next pep rally, some great song like "I Think I'm Paranoid". Even if it was an old song, it still had a great guitar riff at the beginning.

Finally, the time came. I grabbed my black backpack, exited the AP Physics room in a hurry, and made my way to the music room. Dumping my backpack in the front row, I went to my cubby-hole, unzipped my guitar case, and lifted out my perfect, black-and-white electric guitar, which my parents had gotten me for my birthday. It had my name written on the black body in nice, Gothic letters.

You may have noticed my preference for black and white, and the Gothic personality. I found about four years ago that it defined me best, and black and white were always my favorite colors EVER.

Clarissa grabbed her flamboyant yellow guitar, tossing her red hair back, and threw a confident smile in my direction. Her electric blue – shadowed eyes glittered maliciously. She had so much mascara on that it looked like her eyes had turned into tarantulas. Under my breath, I muttered, "What a show-off." Then I sat down in my seat.

"All right," said Mr. Till, our teacher. "Well, welcome back from the weekend. Hopefully Clarissa and Eva practiced, because they are going to battle each other for the solo guitar performance at the next pep rally!"

This incited cheers from the class. I saw Christine off to the side, cheering and holding on to her deep red bass. She gave me a thumbs-up, and I felt heartened.

I raised my hand, and Mr. Till said, "Yes, Eva?"

"Um, do you have a Band-Aid? I got a paper cut that's going to screw up my playing."

"Sorry, I don't."

I frowned. Just my luck.

Clarissa jeered, "Oh, stop trying to blame your awful playing on a paper cut. We all know you suck, and I'm going to win this competition."

Some random kid I didn't even know yelled, "OOOH! BURN!"

"Oh, shut up!" I snapped. Then I turned to Clarissa. "You know, maybe you should eat makeup instead of putting it on… so you can be pretty on the inside, you FREAK."

Her face turned just about as red as a tomato. It was hilarious, not to mention her expression when most of the class yelled, "HAHA! Suck on that!"

Yep. Clarissa was a queen beetch, and everyone knew it.

"All right, that's enough!" Mr. Till shouted. "Why don't we all just stop insulting each other and get to the competition? Who's going to go first?"

"I will," Clarissa muttered. Looking at me, she said, "May the best guitarist win."

Mr. Till muttered something under his breath. It sounded like "Quit it with the rivalry".

Clarissa stepped up onto the platform and put the strap around her neck, adjusting the length. Then she started to play.

I watched her fingers as they placed themselves on top of the frets and formed bridges, all on different strings. Her right hand held a pick that was strumming out the melody of "You Belong With Me" by Taylor Swift.

God, couldn't she have picked a different song? She was singing under her breath, and it was annoying. AND she made about eight mistakes. I hoped I would make less, because the song I was choosing to perform had some pretty complicated rhythms to it.

After she finished, Mr. Till applauded her, saying, "Nice job. Let's see if Eva can do better."

I took a deep breath, stepped up from my chair, and took my place on the platform. After slipping the comfy strap around my shoulder, I picked up my guitar pick, wincing as it pressed down on the cut. I was just lucky it didn't actually dig into it.

There were about fifteen butterflies in my stomach. Ugh.

I put my left hand on the fingerboard of the guitar, on the strings I would need for this song. It was "When Will My Life Begin" from Tangled. I had chosen to play both the beginning chords and the melody; hopefully my improvisation would work out.

Then I strummed the strings.

Somehow, when I play the guitar, a sense of euphoria and… I don't know, lightness, maybe? It's really impossible to describe. The only way you could ever understand it is to get the feeling. Well, it just overcomes me. I have an affinity for music, especially the electric guitar. And I love the instrument. I can play any tune I feel like playing.

Also, I had toned down the resounding tones so that the song would still sound nice even on the electric guitar, even though it was probably written for the regular guitar. The small but burning pain from the pressure on my paper cut was turned into an almost nice sensation, and I felt giddy with relief as I got over the section of the song with the fast chords, were Rapunzel was finding a new spot to paint. That was basically the only part that bugged me, and I had managed to get through it with a slight mistake, where I accidentally switched the chord to minor because my finger slipped.

I snuck a look at the audience. Christine was alternating looking at me and looking at Clarissa, who had a look of frustration on her face. Mr. Till was nodding and smiling, and I took that as a sign of encouragement when I hit the last note, letting it fade into the air.

"Let's have a group vote," Mr. Till suggested. "Just to see what you guys think."

I could feel a tiny smile spread across my face.

"All those who think Clarissa should get the solo, raise your hand."

Of course, Clarissa's hand shot up so fast that she nearly unseated herself. The class snickered as they looked around and saw that only one other hand was raised, which belonged to the same kid who had "BURN"ed me.

Then Mr. Till said, "And if you think Eva should get the solo, make your vote clear."

Christine put up both of her hands, flashing her bright red biker gloves in the air. Hands went up all over the audience, and I grinned as it was clear that people wanted me to get the solo.

Yes! I thought. I did it!

You know, I actually do get that feeling. I feel so… So in tune with the world, like my soul is a guitar and somebody just played a note on the strings that control my heart. I get it when I sing and drum (especially on Rock Band XD) and when I think about flying, when I look up at the sky and feel like I could spread my wings and fly to the moon.

Yeah. You know?

If you thought this character was me, leave it in a review!

Thanks for reading!