Oliver

                Living with the Andels was a little hard, at least for me. Everything was new for me, I didn’t know anything around here. There was literally nothing familiar. When I accepted living with them, they neglected to tell me they lived in the suburbs, in what seemed like a million miles away from the city. To say I was panicking just couldn’t describe it well enough. I had lived in the city all my life, my parents lived in the city, everything I remembered about them was linked to the city, and I had somehow been able to feel them there with me, in the city, watching me. But I was moving to the suburbs, to a small little town where I didn’t know anything.

                All my memories, the feeling of safeness seemed to stay in the city the day the Andels went to pick me up and drive me to their home. I felt like I was leaving my parents behind as I watched everything I knew getting farther and farther away. When we got to the house where I would be living from now on the Andels showed me to my room and I locked myself in it for at least two days straight. They had taken my piano first putting it in my room before they took me home with them. I spent the next two days locked in my room playing every song I had made before my parents death, remembering everything, tormenting myself because I thought I deserved it. After all I had accepted someone else apart from them, I had let someone else adopt me.

“Ollie?” Mrs. Andel asked tentatively after knocking on my door.

                I had opened the door a while ago when I’d finally given up and decided to just lie down on my new bed looking up at the ceiling. A ceiling I didn’t know, a ceiling I’d be seeing from now on.

“Ollie? I’m coming in,” Mrs. Andel said coming into my room.

                I turned to look at her and she seemed tired, older than she really was. She looked like she hadn’t been able to sleep lately. She must’ve been worried about me. Not coming out of my room for two days straight just after they adopted me. They must think it’s got to do with them. I felt horrible inside and I just couldn’t look at her face anymore.

“It’s ok Ollie. We know this has nothing to do with us,” Mrs. Andel said sitting in the bed next to me and putting her hand on my leg.

                I turned to look at her again, not really believing it. How could she know what I had been thinking? How could she know what I wanted to say?

“You don’t have to look like that. It’s just that your silence speaks louder than any voice I’ve ever heard. It’s not hard to hear you Ollie.”

                Hear me? How could she hear me? I wasn’t talking, how could she say it wasn’t hard to hear me? My silence spoke louder than any voice? Mrs. Andel chuckled and smiled at me.

“You may not understand it right now Ollie, but Jerry and I, we know how to listen to the silence.”

                Yeah, right. She’s crazy. End of it. I was adopted by a pair of crazy people.

“You’ll get it someday, don’t worry. Now why don’t you tell me what has you tied in knots? Could it be about your parents?”

                I turned to look somewhere else when she mentioned them. This was so complicated. I loved my parents more than anything in the world, and I really liked the Andels too. But I felt like I was betraying them by letting someone else adopt me.

“So it is about them. I think I get it now. Tell me something Ollie. Are you going to forget your parents?”

                I turned to look abruptly at her. What was she asking? Of course I wasn’t going to forget them!

“Relax. Just answer the question, alright?” Mrs. Andel asked in a soothing tone.

                I shook my head quickly.

“No matter how much time goes by, no matter where you go, or who you’re with, right?”

                I nodded, slowly understanding where she was going with what she was asking.

“You see. No matter where you go, your parents will always be up there watching you, and you’ll always remember them. That’s the wonderful thing about the brain Ollie, we’re able to carry our memories with us. Nothing is ever tied to one single place. Just because you move, just because you have new parents it doesn’t mean you love your parents any less, and it doesn’t mean they love you any less either Ollie. I’m sure they want the best for you and want you to be happy.”

                And I knew she was right, it just seemed so hard. All the changes were coming so fast and I just wasn’t able to deal with them. I thought it was going to get the best of me because I couldn’t deal with it on my own but that was just the thing. I didn’t have to. I didn’t have to deal with everything on my own anymore, I had a mom and dad now.

“Well, food will be waiting for you in the dining room when you decide to come down,” Mrs. Andel, I mean… mom… told me before getting up and leaving my room. My room. Mom. Dad. My house. Home. I sat up and stayed there for a little while, looking at my bags and boxes scattered about. I should make this my room.

                When the next knock came on my door it was Mr. Andel, I mean, dad, who poked his head around my door. He looked a little taken aback when he saw me organizing everything I owned and putting it in my room. Then he smiled warmly at me.

“Do you need help?”

                I smiled back at him and nodded. I should let him be my dad, just like I should let Mrs. Andel be my mom. I should let this be my house, my home. And for the rest of the week before I started school I did just that, I finished making my room mine, and got familiar with the house adding my own little touches to make it home. I tried to get more familiar with my new mom and dad but I guess that particular touch would come with time. Then came school. That was what really told me just how different this place was from the city. First day of school was almost ridiculous.

                Mrs. Andel drove me to school and just like any parent walked me to the office where they gave me my new schedule and the receptionist grilled her about the adoption and the change and me. How did they know already? What gave her the right to ask about something that was none of her damn business? Mrs. Andel laughed a little nervously at my obvious frown and obvious anger that grew the more the old hag asked. Right then the bell that signaled the start of class rang and my mom seemed happy to send me to class already. When I got to class it all just got worse.

“Well class, we’ve got a new student today, his name is Oliver Andel. So Oliver, tell us a bit about you.”

                I didn’t plan on saying anything because I was sure they weren’t going to care either way, nobody ever heard me. The silence stretched a little until a voice resounded through the classroom.

“Is it true you come from the city?” The voice asked.

                I nodded slowly not really understanding how they knew if I hadn’t really talked to anyone. That just released chaos in the room.

“What happened to your parents?”

“I heard his parents abandoned him because they didn’t want him anymore.”

“Are you stupid? They died in a car accident, right Oliver?”

“I heard he’s a prodigy.”

“Yeah! He has played with orchestras and everything. He should join our band!”

“But I heard he doesn’t play anymore. He injured himself or something.”

“Just like his new father. Do you think he knows what really happened? Maybe he could tell us.”

                I felt my anger growing with every stupid question they asked. This was none of their fucking business!

“Enough!” The teacher finally yelled. “Oliver just take your seat.”

                I stared at him for a little while. That was it? He’d just send me to my seat? He wasn’t going to do anything else? Yell at the classroom or something?

“Well? What are you waiting for?” The teacher asked looking at me with an annoyed look.

                No, he wasn’t going to do anything. I sighed and went to my seat. The class started and the teacher continued talking about a play they were reading. It looked interesting enough, maybe I’d read it. I started to take notes and I had to admit the book was sounding more and more interesting. Then a guy came into the classroom and everything suddenly went tense. I looked around, not really understanding why suddenly the atmosphere was so thick with tension.

“You’re late again, Salvador?” The teacher asked sounding really mad.

                Well, that’s kind of obvious, don’t you think? If he was on time he wouldn’t be standing there. Regardless the kid didn’t say anything, he just rolled his eyes and stood there looking at the teacher. The teacher told him take off his headphones and go to his seat. He really sounded pissed this time, maybe because of the headphones. The guy rolled his eyes again and made his way to the only desk left, right beside me. The guy looked at me as if noticing me for the first time. He looked at me as he made his way to the desk beside me but he didn’t really seem to be looking at me anymore. Then he smiled. I know it’s stupid but that’s when I noticed he had snake bites. He sat beside me and seemed lost in his thoughts not really listening to what the teacher was saying. I just couldn’t take my eyes off him, he had not only his lip pierced but he had tunnels too. Without the piercings and all that he looked normal enough, with dark brown, straight hair and a beautiful light beige tone of skin. He was a little on the thin side but he didn’t look like a beanpole at least, though he was really tall. Not as tall as me, but still tall.

                Suddenly the bell rang and the kid got up to pick his stuff. That was when he noticed me looking at him. I was so embarrassed. I was sure he was going to make a comment about me staring at him or about how rude it was and all that but instead he looked at me for a while and then took out a notepad and wrote, “Like what you see?” I just looked at him not really believing it. How cocky could you get? Like what you see? What was there to like?! What you think that just because you’re hot and all that everyone’s just going to fall all over your feet? I kind of wanted to flip him off but I just brushed right past him. Ugh. This town and I just clicked together, I swear, with people sticking their nose where they shouldn’t and cocky assholes like that. I just went to my next class and went again through the introductions and all the ridiculous asking and all that shit. By the last class I just wanted to get the hell out of this school.

“Hey! Oliver! Is it true your dad killed his parents?” Someone from behind me asked.

                That just did it. I couldn’t take one more obnoxious question.

“Would you mind your own fucking business?!” I yelled suddenly.

                That was when I heard the teacher clear his throat loudly and I knew I was in trouble.

“Would you mind telling me what is going on Oliver?”

                I felt like sighing, and tearing out my hair in frustration. I didn’t really want to cause any trouble on my first day of school. So I Just shook my head.

“So? You don’t want to tell me, is that it?”

                Oh God. This was getting worse and the teacher was sounding even angrier. I shook my head again and the teacher yelled at me again. Everyone was laughing their asses off. The teacher yelled at me again to tell him what had happened and I just shook my head again. The teacher just seemed to hold the bridge of his nose for a little, taking deep breathes before walking back to the blackboard again. After that class just resumed and everything went on without event, at least until the end of the class when the teacher called me when I was leaving. He handed me a single, small, piece of paper. I grabbed it and read what it said. A detention slip! The bastard was going to send me to detention? Why? I looked up at him and showed him the paper.

“Yes. Detention starts right after class and it’s held in the music classroom on the second floor. Next time when a teacher asks you a question you answer, understood?” The teacher said glaring at me.

                I looked at him for a few seconds. This was really because I didn’t want to tell him what happened?

“Understood?” The teacher asked through gritted teeth.

                Oh no. You’re not going to bully me into talking to you asshole. I just nodded and turned leaving the classroom with my head held high. I followed his directions and found what I supposed was the music classroom. There was only a teacher there and she looked kind of grumpy. I handed her the piece of paper and she looked at it before handing it back to me. She just told me to go sit in one of the desks. So I did. A few minutes went by and nothing really happened. I was just sitting there, the teacher looking at me. Suddenly she got up and went out of the room. That was when I could finally take a breath and look around. It was just a normal classroom with some instruments here and there… and a piano. That one caught my attention. I was so tense right now, so angry, so pissed off. I wanted to kill some of that anger with the piano but I was kind of scared. I looked between the door and the piano for a few seconds until finally I found my courage and went to sit on the piano. I pressed a single key, listening to see if it was tuned.

                Oh. That small little sound was almost like heaven. I got my hands on the keys and just started playing whatever came to my mind. Oh God. That felt so much better. I smiled remembering how my parents used to laugh at me when I played the piano. They said the notes were like pleasure to me. They said I enjoyed them as much as a normal kid would enjoy chocolate. Then I remembered where I was and all my past. The moving. The town. The horrible day at school. In the city people weren’t like this. But I’m not in the city anymore. Suddenly to my mind came the Moonlight Sonata and the music just flowed through my body and out from my hands that moved on the keyboard all on their own. The sadness in me flowed through my body along with the music.

                The song ended but I just kept on playing, expressing with music the sadness I had been feeling these past few days. My memories of the city. My parents. My old house. This new town. My new parents. My new school. Not being able to compose. The accident. Vivaldi’s winter. Vivaldi’s winter started to play through my head and tried as I may my concentration was broken and again everything was sounding horrible, jarring, cacophonous. I finally couldn’t listen anymore and just stopped playing all together letting out a loud scream of frustration and sadness. When was this going to end? When was I going to be able to let go and move on? When was I going to be able to compose?

                Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder and I just about jumped out of my skin. I turned around abruptly thinking it was the teacher or something, but no, instead it was the guy from before. When he saw the scared look on my face he just raised his hands in the air telling me he meant no harm. I calmed a little and just sat there looking at him. What was he doing here? The guy then slowly, as if any sudden movements might startle me or something, retrieved a piece of paper from his pocket and gave it to me. I grabbed it.

                It was another detention slip, directed to Salvador Dower, for disrespecting the teacher and refusing to answer a question in class. Salvador Dower. Salvador. What a peculiar name. Were his parents Spanish or Latin maybe? I retrieved my own detention slip and handed it to him. He read it and raised his brow at something. What? What was he thinking? Oh. My last name. Andel. He probably had heard the rumors too. He gave me back my detention slip and I gave him back his. I waited for the stupid questions to start but he never said anything. Finally he retrieved the notepad from before and opened it in the same page as before. “Like what you see?”

                Cocky asshole. I should’ve expected that. I turned back to the piano completely ignoring him. I took few breaths trying a few keys before I started playing again. I just thought about the other day at the orphanage, the song I was playing that I almost completed, the music flowing out of my body through my fingers again. Suddenly I hit a wrong key and it sounded horrible compared to the rest of it. I tried it again with another one and it sounded even worse. I tried that little piece again and again trying different keys but nothing seemed to work out. Finally I got frustrated and just pressed all the keys at once. Stupid fucking little piece of… paper?

                A piece of paper landed in the keys right in front of me. I turned to glare at Salvador and he just looked pointedly at the piece of paper. I turned back to the ball of paper. I guessed he wanted me to open it so I did. “Try F-sharp.” F-sharp? Which of them? There were five F-sharps in this goddamned thing! I took a little breath and thought about the little piece I was stuck at. F-sharp. It could work. I started everything from the beginning. When I got to the part where I got stuck at I tried the key he had told me in the scale I thought would sound right and it was perfect. The rest of the song came to my mind without further mistakes. I continued playing the song drawing perfectly to an end just like it should, but right then the bell rang marking the end of detention and everything was lost again. Just like that. Poof.

                I tried it again. And again and again. Why was something that came naturally to me before so hard now? Why couldn’t I compose? When was this curse going to end? Suddenly I started to hear Vivaldi’s winter again and I hit the keys with my fists and yelled again. When was this going to end? When would this eternal winter finish? Suddenly I heard something. I can’t really tell you what I heard because it didn’t sound like anything I’d ever heard before. I can just tell you that I heard something. I turned around scared it was the teacher again and that’s when I noticed Salvador was still sitting in the same desk. I had forgotten he was here. Why was he still here? Was he listening to me play? No, he’s just searching for the next rumor. I glared at him and just got up grabbing my bag and leaving the room. Ugh. I couldn’t wait to be in the privacy of my room already. My room. Soon it’d be my house. Home. My family. My parents. Mom. Dad. One day, maybe, when the eternal winter transformed into spring again.