Jon didn't share his second period math class with Sarah. He didn't know this, but he was fortunate that he was in AP Calculus, while she was just in Advanced Trigonometry. Jon was already better than Sarah at math, and so that class passed as normal. Although he did notice that Karyn, who did share the class with him, was getting a little more attention than usual due to her fantastic hairstyle. Both Jon and Karyn found themselves taking a little bit of pride in that, and holding their chins a little higher than normal.
But Jon had choir for third period, and Mr. Goldman usually let his class simmer in a mild state of teenage chaos for a good five minutes at the beginning of each class before settling everyone down. Which meant that, even if Jon was more likely to hear one of his fellow tenors talking about the previous night's NBA game, or two of the basses competing to see who could hit the lowest note, he also heard among the cacophony, a single comment that would change how the entire class period would play out for him.
"If you had told me at the beginning of this school year that Sarah McMillan was actually a really good soprano, I'd have never believed you."
Jon couldn't even tell who'd said it. But he'd definitely heard it. And that feeling of change within himself that was slowly becoming familiar, made itself known once again. But this time it came with a tickle in his throat.
Jon excused himself from his own conversation and found a corner of the music room for himself. Softly, he tried out a few quick scales. His range was definitely higher than it used to be. He sang "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" a little bit louder in the highest range he felt comfortable in, and he couldn't help but notice the feminine inflection that he now naturally gave it. A little louder yet still, he sang "Do a Deer" from The Sound of Music, and he swore he overheard someone asking why someone was playing a Julie Andrews recording. And finally, full of a confidence, he started into Mozart's "Queen of the Night" aria, surprising himself as he hit the high note without too much difficulty.
The thing about music is that high notes travel a greater distance than low notes. A good low note is like a blunt force that can do amazing melee damage, while a good high note is piercing and can affect you from great range. And so despite retreating to the furthest possible corner he could find, Jon completed his little warm-up and turned around to find every single eye in the classroom on him.
"Jon," Mr. Goldman broke the silence, "do you mind if we try something today? This might sound like a strange request, but I want to stand you with the girls, see how that sounds."
Jon just nodded dumbly, and soon found himself being placed among the sopranos. And, of course, just to his left stood Sarah McMillan. Jon was given new sheet music with the soprano parts, and just like in English class, he found that they triggered new memories he hadn't had before. Memories of looking at the music room from his new vantage point in the soprano section, but also memories of practicing soprano parts while sitting on that now-familiar day bed. And while standing in a bedroom with a pink motif, pictures of Sarah hanging on the walls. Memories of singing in a shower he didn't recognize.
Jon shook his head to clear out that last memory as he blushed visibly at the thought of what that last set of memories might contain if he were to look downwards in them. But when Mr. Goldman cued everyone to begin, Jon was flawless. Suspiciously flawless.
Sarah McMillan didn't have any reason to think Jon's behavior was odd in English class: Jon was usually about as good a student as Sarah in that subject, and he had simply answered Ms. Ramirez's questions about as well as Sarah had. But this drew Sarah's attention.
Boys were not supposed to be this good at singing soprano. Boys like Jon were not supposed to be able to just pick up brand new parts like they'd been practicing them for weeks and weeks. And with her position just beside him, Sarah could hear that his voice was not just good, it sounded almost exactly like her own. She wasn't about to say this out loud, but if anything, Jon's voice sounded a bit better than Sarah's.
Something was up. Sarah didn't allow this to distract her from her own singing, but she filed this information away into the back of her head and saved it for later. It was time to start keeping an eye on Jonathan Malachi Gibson.
As she left the music room, however, Sarah came very close to losing her cool as she heard just a snippet of conversation between Mr. Goldman and Jon.
"No, please, I don't want the spotlight like that. Please give the soprano solo to someone else."
"If you want to keep hiding your voice, that's up to you. But I think it's a shame when you clearly have so much talent."
Careful footsteps became hard stomps as Sarah's balled fists pushed her way through the crowd and out the music room door.
