Strummer {Gabriel}

[Gabriel James]

"I know what you said," Gabe noted. "I just want us to be on the same page." The man sat back in his chair a bit, and studied the boy in front of him - arms crossed, a defensive glare on his face. Gabe's face dropped just slightly when the boy insisted he was dropping out. The older man felt a sort of twang in his chest - a sort of sympathy and curiosity to what was so wrong that the student felt his best option was to give up. Gabe didn't like quitters, but that definitely seemed to be the wrong thing to say at this moment...

"Well I'm sorry to hear that," Gabe said simply, "But I'll happily teach you until that time comes." The teacher's voice was promising and Gabe hoped that he was at least convinving to Erik. That he actually would be happy teaching - and he would be because it was one of the only things that gave the man a sense of purpose anymore.

Glancing at the computer screen, and then back to Erik, Gabe made an offer. "I have the same lunch as you, so why don't you come by then.... except Tuesdays. I have meetings then, so we can do Tuesdays whenever your last class ends," the man offered. He wasn't sure if Erik was expecting him to offer lessons every day of the week, but to Gabe if Erik was really going to learn in this short period of time, he had to work for it. And the only way Gabe could make sure that was happening was to see the boy every day.

[Erik Stewart]

Gabe was exactly right. Every day? Erik was thinking to himself - he hadn’t made such a big commitment in years, not if it wasn’t necessary. If Gabe knew him better he’d think twice about that offer: even Erik didn’t trust himself to show up every day of the week. But if that was the deal… He hadn’t come this far just to refuse. He wanted to learn. He’d even gone through the process of admitting that to himself and everything.

“Fine,” he said, turning his head. “But no Tuesdays. I have t’work.”

He wasn’t sure if he should seal the deal. Maybe give him a handshake. He’d at least unfolded his arms to rest them at his sides, Gabriel’s snooping forgotten for now. He hadn’t gone on a ‘don’t quit school’ speech, so he figured he could overlook it. “An’ thanks,” he said. Gabriel would likely never know the depths Erik’s trust in school faculty had sunk, nor how much it meant to him for the music teacher to offer a glimmer of hope. He probably wouldn’t for a long time. “So, next week?…I’ll be there.”

[Gabriel James]

"Ok... no Tuesdays," Gabe agreed, since it appeared their schedules conflicted. Everyone needed a little break too. Though part of Gabe's plan here was for Erik to prove himself. Aside from the fact that having lessons every day ensured his student would practice every day, Gabe wanted to see just how serious Erik was... to see what the kid really had in him, and if his record actually said anything about his personality. As much as Gabe hated going off records in general, especially since his didn't say much about his personally, it was all he had.

"You're welcome," Gabriel said very sincerely, a small smile on his face. At least it seemed Erik was grateful. "Next week it is... you got a guitar?" Gabe asked, realizing he should probably check if the kid even had something to play on. Most of his students brought their own instruments, but he'd loaned out his own on a couple occasions to student's he felt he could trust and really wanted to learn. Hammel provided a couple as well, but all of those were being used by students in his regular class.

[Erik Stewart]

Gabe would find himself disappointed in the coming days: showing up every day was a tall order for a boy who barely managed to make it to classes on a regular basis. He wasn’t sure what his stats were, only that he showed up “when he wanted to” which was, realistically, never. With his impending drop-out his attendance really was dwindling into nothing. At least music was something he wanted to learn. It wouldn’t magically turn him into a good student, but it was an advantage.

“I use the school’s,” he replied, reaching up to touch the side of his head. He found time when no one was in the music room to practice, which was sometimes as late as nine. Guitars were expensive, after all. “That’s allowed, ain’t it?”