There was only one person in the entire school that Eleanor allowed to call her "Ellie". And this was a sad fact, really, because there had once been an abundance of people to call her by the sacred nickname. But now, due to a long history of backstabbing and heartbreak, the holy nickname privilege laid solely on the shoulders of a good looking boy in her music class, who also happened to be the only person in the entire school that Eleanor did not feel the need to stab through the heart. Frequently. 

The boy in question was a tall, lanky sort of guy with just enough muscle to gain himself a high level of female attention. And he had the kind of dark-hair-dark-attitude look that had him seem as if he had been pulled from every girl's favourite fictional novel. It was a known fact throughout the school that Nathaniel Reed was a catch, both because of his bank account and his looks, but the boy didn't exactly have the charm to reel a girl in off the hook. His permanent scowl and snapped out insults were enough to send anyone sprinting off just as quickly as they had come. As a matter of fact, Nathaniel Reed was kind of terrifying.

But Eleanor knew him better than that. Ever since they had been partnered together on a music assignment during her first year at the academy, she had learned that it was best not to judge a book by its cover. Nate may not have seemed to be the most approachable person at first glance but he had been the only one to remain at Eleanor's side throughout her popularity downfall. And although he did not smile often, it was an incredibly rare and wonderful event when his lips made even the slightest twitch.

If there was anyone Eleanor would tell about her rather disturbing phone call, it would be him. Both because of the fact that she really had no other friends and the fact that her dad would flip out and call the police if she so much as mentioned weird phone calls predicting her death. And she didn't think that was at all necessary because, quite frankly, it was most likely someone playing a cruel prank on her. It wouldn't be the first time. 

"Hey, partner," Eleanor greeted a scowling Nate who was currently scribbling away on a piece of sheet music, dark eyebrows drawn together in concentration as he slumped down in his chair. As per usual, he had switched the school slacks for a pair of dark jeans, untucked his shirt, disregarded the striped tie, unbuttoned his blazer and rolled up his sleeves to reveal the muscles in his forearm contracting and relaxing as his hand flew across the page resting on the bridge of his knees. He also had his headphones clamped over his ears, which explained why he hadn't responded to her greeting yet.

Taking this into account, she walked up to where he was seated and tapped him on the shoulder in order to gain his attention. For, if she did not distract herself by holding a conversation with him, she would fall prey to the knowledge that everyone was either staring at her, laughing at her, or whispering about her. And it wasn't as if she was self-conscious, being the scholarship student at a school full of rich kids had left her immune to insults, it was just that she wasn't necessarily in the mood for strangling anyone today. But perhaps tomorrow would carry more murderous prospects.

Nate removed his headphones and hung them around his neck, gesturing for her to sit next to him with a small nod of his head before scrunching up the paper he had previously been writing on and throwing it across the room. "Hey Ellie," he said in his usual soft voice as she sat next to him with a smile.

The music room was a large, glass room the shape of a pentagon that overlooked the academy's extensive grounds. There was a grand piano over in one corner and a drum kit over in the other, along with a rack of guitars against one wall and a cluster of microphones and music stands beside a stack of chairs. Quite a few students chose to do music, as it was quite a popular subject, so there was quite a lot of group work involved in the course.

Eleanor made sure she was always paired up with Nate; he was the only person she could work with without wanting to rip his throat out. This was a handy thing, really, because it just so happened that Nate was great with melodies and Eleanor was great with lyrics. 

"Was that our project you were working on?" She asked with a laugh as Nate pulled out another piece of sheet music to start working on. "It better not have been, because that's due next week and we can't afford to throw anything away."

Nate shook his head with a small chuckle, reaching down into his backpack to pull something out of his music folder. "Don't worry. That had nothing to do with our project." He handed her the sheet of paper he had pulled out of his bag. "What I threw away was just another one of the dumb things I was working on." He rubbed the back of his neck and refused to meet Eleanor's gaze, because what had been on that sheet of paper had been more than just another one of his miscellaneous music pieces. 

But Eleanor wasn't to know this, so she continued on with giving him a slight laugh and nudge on the shoulder. "Don't say that Nate, your music is really good. Much better than the trash I write, anyway." She pulled out the lyrics she had written for their project together and began to compare the two pieces to makes sure that they would fit together. But as much as she tried to focus on the piece, her mind kept getting pulled off elsewhere. The phone call had affected her much more than it should have, and she hadn't been able to shake the feeling of paranoia ever since. She couldn't exactly explain what it was, but she was extremely on edge. She jumped at the slightest of sounds and kept looking over her shoulder when she walked down corridors. And she knew that it was ridiculous, that it was probably just some stupid idiot playing a prank, but she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. How did that guy seem to know so much about her in the first place?

It was at this point that her music teacher decided to enter the classroom, glasses falling down his nose as he hobbled across the room on a pair of crutches. With his left leg in a cast. Announcing that he had indeed fallen down the stairs and broken his left leg over the course of the summer.

"Damn it."