Ina Ambrose smilingly watched as the choir kids looked for their seats. A lot of the singers were experienced, but some were newbies – generally freshmen who made it in over the summer or people that moved up from the general choir.

Some of the boys sat backwards on their chairs to talk to their buddies behind them. A few of the girls compared new phones then hid them into the massive purses in their laps to text. Other students walked in bleary-eyed, with shirts buttoned haphazardly and untucked.

And while in a position of power, Ina continued to smile. I'm a senior this year... I'm the choir president this year...I'll graduate in the spring and that'll be it.

She laughed as couple of junior guys tangoed in front of piano she rested her hip against, singsonging, “Hiiiii, Inaaa!” She waved happily, even when they sailed into some music stands in the back of the room. “I told you,” one said to the other, socking him in the arm, “let me lead! Right foot, together, left foot, together...! God...”

I want to remember this year as happily as I can... Ina picked up the syllabus for the semester and handed them to a long-legged blond chattering in the soprano section. “Please take one and pass down the row.”

The girl stared at her, smacking together glittery pink lips. “So, like...what do I do if...like...there's no one in the chair next to me?”

“Set one on the empty chairs and give the stack to the next seated person.”

“Oh, okay!”

Ina fought the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she turned away from the valley girl to come almost nose-to-nose with an acne-riddled boy.   The fact he was her height came as an amazement; after all, Ina stood at five-five exactly. Not terribly short, but certainly not tall. This boy hunched over, making him shorter. She took a step back to see him better. “What's up, Peter?”

He wrung his hands together nervously and stammered when he talked.  “I-I-I c-can't find my seat, Ina, so what do I do? 'cuz I couldn't find my name tag on any of the chairs.” He pushed his glasses up before his hands went to clenching at the hem of his too-big sweater vest. She recalled he was a sophomore.

“Um, you should be... Let me check the seating chart.” Ina took a black binder from the top of the piano and flipped to the chart. “Let's see...you're a Tenor...Peter Kramer... Ah-hah! Found ya!” She smiled at him. “Row three, about...five, six...seven chairs in. Okay?”

Peter nodded. “Th-thanks.” As he scuttled away, Ina saw the new TA, Mr. Bailey, walk towards her.

Ina gave a little wave. She admitted Mr. Bailey was handsome with his raven black hair and emerald eyes, but the young singer refused to dwell much deeper on it. When he stood abreast to her, shifting from one foot to the other and smiling anxiously, she couldn't help but savor the boyishness as he towered over her. “Nervous, Mr. Bailey?”

Grinning sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his head. “Well, yeah. I've never actually taught-taught in front of a class before. And I thought I'd have a little more time to prepare. That Mr. Wise, he really is a, uh...punctual kind of guy, isn't he?”

“Yeah, he's rather prompt. But you get used to it. Here's hoping he doesn't start yelling in German this year.” Ina giggled at the memory. Mr. Bailey smirked, easing up a bit. “I'm sure we'll just introduce you first. If you're so nervous...I can go through the exercises first so you have a feel for how we run things. Would that help?”

Mr. Bailey chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Maybe. I'd still feel bad for having to ask a high school girl to help me out.”

Ina blinked. “Why?”

“Uh...” He stared at her. “I...I have no idea.”

Laughing again, she dismissed his awkwardness with a wave of her hand. “I know what you're getting at. Being a TA at a Catholic high school has to be a bit awkward for you, too.”

“Just a bit,” he said, his arms dropping to his sides a tad. “See, I graduated from Harts Bay Central so...”

“Ahh...” She poked him in the rib. “So you were a Central kid! Well now! I guess you're in enemy territory, huh?” Winking at him, she held up a finger to emphasize her point; “Remember – we always pray before practice starts.”

“Heh. I'll be sure to remember.”

Stepping briskly across the floor as the last students settled themselves and the other choir officers moved up by her, Mr. Wise greeted the group with a loud, “Hello, hello! Welcome to Our Lady's Mercy's A Capella Choir! We are the premiere choir at this school and, as such, we are in a leadership position to all the other choirs. Whether from the mixed to jazz to show or even chamber choirs, we are to be an example in both performance technique and expression. I trust you all received your syllabus for this semester? Good, good. Let us begin. We have a lot to do, even though it's the first day.”

Waving the choir up, Mr. Wise gestured to the poster situated high on the wall behind him. “Ina,” he nodded at her, “if you wouldn't mind leading us today in the choir prayer?”

Ina dipped her head then turned her gaze back to the prayer – dark blue text printed on white banner paper. “Let us pray.” The group folded hands; behind her, she could hear Mr. Bailey's hands meet as well. “Dear Heavenly Father, we thank You this day, and everyday, for the individual gifts You have granted us. But we ask You, O Lord, to look over us as we raise our voices in song together in glory of You. Let us make beautiful melodies in Your Name, and create a sweet harmony that will resonate between us, our listeners, and Your pleased ear. Grant us the the unity and the voice with which to reach our greater fellowship and potential. In Your Name we ask this, Amen.”

“Amen,” sounded throughout the room. The group dropped back into their seats.

Mr. Wise addressed classroom expectations briefly, allowing the class to sit, before waving a hand to Mr. Bailey. “And now for our guest who will be joining us for the semester. If you would.”

Glancing at Ina, Mr. Bailey whispered, “Wish me luck.”

“You'll do fine,” she whispered back.

He cleared his throat. “I'm Alex Bailey, and I'll be Mr. Wise's teaching assistant. I am a secondary education major at Colgate University in lower Harts Bay. My focuses are in music and physical education.” There were some dubious looks. “Yeah, yeah. It seems like a weird combo but, eh. Whatever." He anxiously cleared his throat . "I've been a swimmer and a musician since I was small so I decided to go with both passions. I'll be spending this first semester with you here and second semester I should be working with the athletics office. Anyway, I look forward to working with all of you. Are there any questions?”

The blond girl from earlier raised her hand. “Um, are you single?”

The class chuckled while some of the girls gossiped with red faces behind splayed-finger hands.

Mr. Bailey laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Heh. Yeah, currently I am. Buuuut...! That's not really important right now.” More giggling ensued.

Clapping his hands, Mr. Wise brought the attention back to the front. “People! All right! We also have up here our four choir officers. Treasurer Becky Hammon,” a mousy girl with freckles waved, “Secretary Lyle Thirst,” a sandy-haired boy grinned broadly, “Vice President Brady O'Connor,” an energetic guy winked at a trio of girls who practically swooned, “and your President Ina Ambrose.”

Ina blushed yet managed to smile as some of the guys hollered at her. “We look forward to occupying these offices this year. Hopefully our trip to Rome will be the best one yet.”

“Well then,” Mr. Wise turned to Mr. Bailey as the other three officers walked away, “did you want to start the class out with some warm-ups?”

“Uh, uhm....”

Ina peered over at the TA, seeing him hesitate. She touched his arm. “Mr. Bailey, how about I start off the girls and you have the boys echo back? It'll go me, then the girls, then you, and then the boys. Sort of like a canon or a round.”

Opening and closing his mouth, Mr. Bailey gave a nod. He shot an appreciative half-smile to her. “That sounds like a good idea, Miss Ambrose. ...Everyone, rise.” He motioned and the entire group stood. He squared his shoulders, cleared his throat, then glanced back to Ina. “Whenever you're ready.”

Ina looked to the choir, feeling Mr. Wise's eyes on her back. She imagined him standing with one arm crossed over his growing paunch, cushioning an elbow with one palm and the other pillowing his chin as he counted his approval or disapproval with head bobs in time with the exercise.

She took a deep breath, relaxed her throat – This is my first act in front of the choir as president... Ina thought, staving off her jitters – and began the warm-up. “Do-Mi-So-Mi-Do-Fa-La-Fa-Ti-Re-So-Re-Do-Mi-Do...”

The echo came from the girls, then Mr. Bailey's deep bass rumbled and Ina felt a pleasant shiver run down her spine. Stealing a glimpse, she saw a self-assured man – composed and enjoying himself. Internally, she smiled, emboldened, and put a bit more passion into her vocal exercise. Her ear attuned to the sound of his singing, and when he had the boys singing in a round with the girls, part to part, she listened to his voice overlap with hers.

Something in the back caught Ina's eye. She flicked her gaze to Mr. Bailey, seeing his expression harden at the corner of his lips and eyes; the emerald darkened to a deep hunter as he stopped singing. Ina stood couldn't see through the other students what was happening until a sudden hush came over the entire choir.

Loping through the students, Mr. Bailey pushed his way to the fourth row and pulled two boys off a third – the sophomore Peter.

“I don't know if you guys think this is some sort of sick joke but,” he gave them both a firm shake, “you don't pick on your classmates. You especially don't try to injure them or one day someone bigger and stronger is gonna pick on you.” He stood impressively tall in front the other two boys – guys from her own class Ina realized with a pang of disgust. “So, I highly suggest,” he growled, “you watch what you do before life catches up to you and the principal's office won't be a happy option available to you. Understood?”

“W-we were just screwing around...” one muttered, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his blazer.

“I suggest you sit down, stop talking, start singing, and don't cause any more problems.” Mr. Bailey's sharp glare caused both guys to drop into their seats immediately.

The class remained mute as he walked back to his place at the front of the room.

He wore a no-nonsense visage yet spoke evenly and crisply. “Please excuse my sharp tongue, but as a human being I can't stand to see people get bullied around. I want it to be known that I do expect respect among us. If there is no respect given to me, I will show none to you. I think that's a pretty clear rule to follow. Now...let's finish the warm-ups.”

When they had managed to finish the exercises with no additional incident, Mr. Bailey successfully lead the class without any trouble; Ina held a newfound respect for the teaching assistant. Then, Mr. Wise had resumed control; the music the students had been expected to practice over the summer was reviewed.

After all, Ina reminded herself, having taken her seat in the front row between the soprano and alto sections, we're leaving in April. It's only August now but time'll creep up on us all quick enough...

Ina had continued to muse for a while, even after most of the choir had bustled out in chattering crush at the end of the period. “Ina?” She looked up. Mr. Bailey smiled down at her. “Hey.”

She nodded, brushing her hair behind an ear. “Hey. You did really well today.”

“You really think so?” He rubbed at the back of his head again, expression pensive. “I guess it'll be easier as we go along. You sing beautifully, by the way.”

“O-oh...?” A hot blush made its way across the bridge of her nose. “W-well...” she chewed her bottom lip abashedly, “...thank you, Mr. Bailey. I appreciate that.”

He dropped into the seat next to her. Looking up at him, Ina could see the muscular curvature in his arms and shoulders as the black dress shirt tensed when he crossed his arms. Mr. Bailey looked straight ahead; Ina presumed to the prayer. “You obviously work very hard. I've never heard a mezzo sing so beautifully before – especially at eighteen”

“Well...” Ina blushed more. Her face felt absolutely red-hot. As way of self-distraction, she scooped up the books from beneath her seat and placed them neatly in her lap. “I do work very hard,” she answered finally. “Music's my passion. I want to go to Colgate, also, and study music there.”

Mr. Bailey smiled. “Teach or perform?”

Ina blinked in surprise. Slowly, she let out something of an exhausted laugh. “I'd like to perform for a while, since I have a lot of acting experience. I love the stage. But teaching would be fun, too, I think. I'd like to teach at the collegiate level, if I could. So that'd require some time in graduate school first.” She felt him study her face for a moment before standing up.

“Just remember to have fun. You're a senior this year, Ina. I'm sure you're much better behaved than I was, so it's safe to tell you to relax and enjoy yourself.”He smiled warmly down at her and offered her a hand as she rose.

Pressing her lips together, she rearranged her books in her hands and looked up at him sadly. “I wish I could slow down, Mr. Bailey but...that's not what people expect of me.” She glanced to the clock. “I have to get going. I'll see you later, Mr. Bailey.”

“See ya. And, Ina?” She turned, standing in the doorway as he looked to her from halfway across the room. He stood by the piano. Tall, lean yet a bit muscular, with skin paler than hers and thin, knowing lips, he half-smiled gently. “Remember what I said.”

Ina attempted to smile as brightly as she could, but it came watery across her face. Backing into the hallway, she made her way to her next class. As she took her seat, just seconds before the bell rang, Mr. Bailey's deep green eyes came to mind again.

It's so weird...

She opened her notebook to a clean section headed it with AP Calculus; a syllabus dropped onto her desk from the circling teacher and she stared at it rather than reading it.

The way Mr. Bailey looked at me...it's like he didn't have to ask any of the questions, really. Like he already...knew me... Ina closed her eyes as the teacher droned rules and regulations. He saw deeply into me. No one's ever just suddenly done that before...

But what's weirder... Her hand moved to her cheeks, still warmed and most probably pinked. ...I didn't mind him knowing.