bringing home the rain {gabriel}

[Erik Stewart]

The truth was that Erik was scared. The school year was rapidly drawing to a close and soon enough, Erik would be on his own, without a degree, and without any parental support except for their ‘don’t come home’ letter and a check for five hundred dollars. At least he had that much - a lot of kids didn’t. But he still couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for himself.

Gabriel would find him in the usual spot, drifting his fingers over the guitar strings. He hadn’t told Gabriel any of his worries. He felt like he wouldn’t know how. It wasn’t his intention to start today, either, but the fact was that they were heading towards a deadline, and if Gabriel didn’t know himself, he had to figure out some way to tell him that their meetings might be over with.

He was hoping they wouldn’t be.

Erik stood up when he heard Gabriel enter. There was a smile on his face. The guitar straps still hung around his shoulders and the back of his neck. He smiled more often than not when he greeted him, and they seemed easier now, more natural. “Hey,” he said. “You’re kinda early.”

[Gabriel James]

Gabriel was glad to see how much progress Erik was making. He was plesently surprised at the student's enthusiasm and attendance. Sure, he wasn't perfect - Gabriel didn't expect perfect anyway - but to see Erik putting so much effort into something was refreshing to Gabe and the rest of the teachers lounge. Teacher gossip was a thing, and Gabe had heard through the grapevine that some teachers were pretty certain Erik was planning on leaving soon. Gabe hadn't brought it up - maybe because he hoped it wasn't true. Maybe he hoped that somehow his lessons had convinced Erik to stick around a while longer. Gabe, of course, knew better. He was sure it would be a conversation they'd have to have eventually. Unless the student planned on leaving without a trace.

Gabe walked into his office with his own guitar strapped to his back, a stack of papers in one hand, and a travel mug full of coffee in the other. He looked tired, because quite frankly he was. His life was all but consistent lately. He was pretty emotionally unstable at home, and fell behind on grading because of it. His mind was also often preoccupied during classes - so he managed to fall behind grading class work as well. But the man still would rather sit down for a one on one lesson with a student than try and grade another composition assignment. So yes, Gabe was early.

Gabe smiled back when Erik greeted him. It was nice to feel like the boy really enjoyed his presence and the lessons - that he was excited for them. "I'd be lying if I said it's because I have nothing else to do," Gabe said with a laugh, dropping the thick stack of papers on his desk. "Just things I'd rather not be doing," the teacher admitted, lowering his voice a bit - as if it were taboo for a teacher to admit out loud that he didn't enjoy every part of his job.

As Gabe unzipped his soft guitar case, he looked over at his student. "You think my composition kids would appreciate me just giving everyone a B+ without explanation?" Gabe asked, only half joking. Maybe 3/4 joking - because even if the students wouldn't mind administration probably would. "Hows it going? Been practicing?" Gabe asked, as he lifted his own guitar strap over his head and onto his shoulder so he could start tuning, so they could get to the lesson. He stuck his pink guitar pick between his teeth while he adjusted his guitars position, waiting for Erik's response.

[Erik Stewart]

“A B+ sounds like good news t’me,” he said. He looked at the stack of papers and didn’t envy him; it seemed awfully boring, grading all those things. It wasn’t the first time Gabe had come in with schoolwork, and a sigh, though Erik never asked the teacher much about his job unless prompted. “If you don’t want to grade any papers, maybe you shouldn’t give ‘em any t’do.” Problem solved, both sides.

He plucked at the strings. All these extra sessions hadn’t been in vain: Erik had gotten better, and very quickly at that. The strings came natural. He knew where to put his fingers. He hadn’t quite figured out how to make a chord of his own, and maybe, he thought, he never would, but he sure did understand it better. The sounds he created starting to sound more like music and less like hesitant plucks.

“Ayup,” he responded, twisting the tuners.

Leaning against the desk, he tested the instrument. His fingers strummed over the strings, now attuned, though he glanced at Gabriel for his approval. Erik was never much of a talker, not much, anyway; didn’t like to elaborate on what he’d been doing or how he’d been. It wasn’t out of some misplaced urge to be mysterious - he seemed naturally reticent.

“I could play somethin’ and you can tell me how it sounds like,” he said.

[Gabriel James]

Gabe laughed a bit at Erik. He liked how the kid always seemed to say exactly what he was thinking - and in reality probably exactly what Gabe was thinking too. Gabe sometimes wished he didn't need to create assignments, but alas, there was a curriculum to follow. And even though every part of Gabe wanted to just give everyone a B+, he knew that was not fair. He was treated unfairly too frequently in his own childhood to treat any of his students the same way. That didn't mean he wouldn't take this time with Erik to procrastinate, though.

When Erik offered to play something, Gabe sat on the edge of his desk letting his own instrument hang off his shoulder. "Yeah man, let's hear what you've got." Gabe was impressed with how far Erik had come thus far, and was happy to see his student was so much more willing to play in front of the man than when he first started. He nodded to reinforce the fact that Erik's guitar sounded in tune and he was ready to listen to what he'd been working on.