The Janitor and the Music Teacher

Beca Mitchell put the mop back into the bucket with a sigh. She'd finished this corridor, finally, although she had taken a little longer than usual. Miss Beale was teaching a music class in the classroom closest to where she was standing, and the melody was simply uplifting, filling every crevice of the corridor as well as the classroom.

Beca loved music.

She loved the tunes, the backing, the melodies and the lyrics. Everything. She loved instruments, too. The sleek look of the violin, a shining silver flute. Her favourite, however, was the piano. The melodies the piano could play was what kept Beca going, most nights. Beca admired anyone who could press down on the ivory keys, with just the right tempo to keep up with, and make music.

Like Miss Beale.

Beca thought Miss Beale of some form of royalty amongst the other teachers. She admired how many instruments the woman could play, her bright blue eyes, even her red hair was perfect. She was perfect. The perfect teacher. She was nice to every student, whether they liked her or they hated her, and she could play almost anything she was given. She had a talent that Beca only in her wildest dreams could she wish to possess. The talent of music.

Sometimes, like today, Beca stood outside her classroom and just watched. She watched and she listened and she admired. Sometimes Miss Beale caught her, too. And, of course, Miss Beale smiled sweetly, and Beca would redden and look down at her cleaning. So far, she has learnt that anything that sounded happy in music was in major key and anything that sounded sad was in minor key. She has been especially proud of herself when she listened to a piece of music and could tell it was in major key, even before the students had put their hands up.

But, as per usual, Beca was fast to leave when the bell went, always afraid that Miss Beale would shout at her for watching the lesson without permission.

A few days later, and after Beca had accidentally been caught moving about slightly to the music, Miss Beale actually walked over to the door.

"Shit!" Beca exclaimed, rushing to pick up a rag to make it seem that she was actually doing her job.

Miss Beale watched her amusedly, a smirk on her face, as the shorter brunette almost knocked over her bucket of water in her haste to clean ANYTHING.

"You're Beca, right? Beca the janitor." Miss Beale asked her, and Beca stiffened, too scared to look up.

"Y-Yes Ma'am."

Beca glanced upwards at the redhead, who's grin was so wide that it made Beca slightly at ease.

"Do you wanna come in?"

Oh. Well, that made sense. Miss Beale just wanted her to clean the classroom. "Sorry, Ma'am, I'm only allowed to clean classrooms when no students are in there,"

"Not for that reason! I'm not leaving here until you come in, so..."

Beca looked down again, knowing she had been intruding and watching for far too long now. "Uh, no, Ma'am, my job..."

Miss Beale laughed, and god, her laugh was one of the nicest melodies the brunette had ever heard. "I know you don't need to clean anything until after lunch, Beca. You're done for the morning, right?"

Beca was not about to lie to a teacher like Miss Beale. "Yes, Ma'am."

"So - come in, you can watch at the back if you feel more comfortable."

Beca bit her lip. "Th-Thank you, Ma'am. That's really kind of you."

"Of course," Miss Beale chirped, opening the door wider and letting Beca quietly slip in.

The brunette sat down on the floor in the very back corner of the room, barely believing what was happening. She was being allowed to actually sit through a music lesson, and Miss Beale had actually spoken to her. It was almost like being in school again. But this time, everyone wasn't laughing at her when she got the answer wrong. Beca smiled happily as she watched Miss Beale play a piece of music on the piano whilst a student accompanied her with their violin.

When the lesson was over, Beca stayed in her corner, half hoping Miss Beale would forget about her and she could slip out.

"Beca?" Miss Beale called, and Beca shot up with wide eyes.

"Y-Yes, Ma'am?"

Miss Beale chuckled. "It's cute that you call me ma'am, but Chloe is fine."

"Chloe." Beca tried out, the name rolling off her tongue with ease. "I like your name." She smiled. Beca looked down shyly. "H-how do you spell it?"

Miss Beale gave her a slightly confused, slightly scrutinising look, but replied happily and confidently. "C-H-L-O-E."

Beca recognised the sound of four of five letters.

"You can come closer, I don't bite," Chloe chuckled. "Did you enjoy the lesson?"

Beca's eyes seemed to light up at the question, and she treaded carefully in her used converse.

"Yes, Ma-Chloe. It was...really good." Beca replied lamely, not knowing what else to say without sounding like a total freak.

Chloe smiled brightly. "Good! Do you like music?"

"Yes. I love it."

Chloe tilted her head and smiled even brighter. "Can you play?"

Beca looked down and her shoulders deflated slightly. "No. I don't know how."

"Oh..." Chloe's smile slipped from her face and she looked sad for a second, before smiling again. "I can teach you!"

"Really?" Beca asked quietly, barely believing why she was hearing. She could feel the joy rising in her and the lump in her throats beginning to form.

"Of course!" Chloe grinned. "How about today after school?"

Chloe could see that Beca looked like she was about to cry and she stepped closer, suddenly producing a tissue and putting her hand on Beca's back. Beca sniffled loudly and let a watery smile grace her features.

"Th-Thank you, Chloe. That means a lot to me," the brunette bit her lip and caught Chloe's eyes to try and show her gratitude. She sniffled again but refused the tissues Chloe was offering her.

"Tonight at 4:30?"

"She probably won't even turn up." Beca muttered her thought out loud, but Chloe heard it.

The redhead looked concerned, then affronted, then sad. "What makes you think that?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, it's just...nobody else really talks to me, unless they have to." Beca's eyes were at her feet, looking reprimanded.

"Why's that? And I told you to call me Chloe."

Beca only shrugged. "I'm sorry, Chloe."

"That's okay," Chloe replied easily. "So, today at 4:30."

"Sounds good."

"And what instrument do you wanna learn?"

All of them, Beca thought. "I like the sound of the piano."

"Piano it is!"

Chloe found the janitor slightly odd, but intriguing. It was almost like talking to a little kid, or one of her students. Beca seemed to think she was constantly crossing the line, almost like talking to people - as a whole - was new to her. But Chloe was determined to show the brunette that she wasn't going to bail on her, Beca already seemed incredibly vulnerable as it is. She looked up at the clock and saw it was 4:35, and she sighed, thinking Beca really wasn't going to show up. She looked out to the door again and found Beca just waiting. Chloe frowned and got up, opening the door.

"You could've just knocked, you know,"

Beca jumped. "Sorry," she said quickly.

"It's fine, just next time come right in," Chloe smiled.

They both sat down at the piano, and Chloe took in the way Beca's eyes seemed to gloss over as she saw the keys, and her wrist twitched.

"You can touch it, Beca. Go ahead,"

Hesitantly, the small brunette pressed down on a key and grinned as it made a noise. She pressed down again on another, and another, before doing two at once. Chloe watched her, finding it amusing how Beca seemed just like a little kid trying a piano out for the first time. Soon, Beca was playing an awful combination of notes and smiling happily.

"You like the piano, huh?"

Beca looked at Chloe and nodded. "Yes. It's my favourite instrument. I've never been allowed to play one before."

Suddenly, Beca blushed and looked down at her lamp, as if she had given away too much information. Chloe gave her another scrutinising look. She wanted to find out why Beca had never been allowed to before. She wanted to find out why she seemed so timid all the time.

"Well, now's your chance. Do you wanna start by learning the notes?"

Beca nodded. "Yes, please."

Chloe produced a sheet of music that had a row of notes perfectly drawn on them.

"There are acronyms that we use to remember the notes. The most common ones are Every Good Boy Deserves Football, E, G, B, D, F, which are the lines in a stave. This is the stave," Chloe pointed to the five lines on the row. "And FACE. F, A, C, E. those are the spaces in between the lines. Are you with me so far?"

Not really

Beca nodded.

"Great! So I'm gonna tell you what each note is and I want you to write it underneath, okay?"

She was given a pen. Beca's heart sped up. This was it. Chloe was gonna find her weird now and kick her out.

"Okay, so, A,"

Beca startled. She knew a. A was in her name. Beca wrote

a

In childlike writing.

Chloe furrowed her eyebrows, but didn't say anything.

"B,"

Beca refrained the urge to smile. That was in her name as well.

B

"C,"

c

This was easy, Beca thought. She knew all the letters already.

"D."

Beca stiffened, panicking. She put the pen to the paper, but couldn't write anything down. She didn't know how to write it or even what it looked like. She looked down and her eyebrows furrowed deeply in worry.

"Beca? The letter d,"

Chloe watched in concern as Beca's eyes darted around. The redhead sighed internally. She thought she knew what was going on.

Deciding to test her theory, Chloe got up and wrote the word lace on the whiteboard.

"What does this say?" She asked kindly.

Beca's eyes widened. All of those letters were in her name, so she sounded them out how they were said in her name.

"Lllllaakeh." She said hesitantly, and by the look on Chloe's face, it wasn't right.

"Lace, Beca. It says lace."

Beca bowed her head in embarrassment, trying not to cry. Chloe sat down next to her, moving to place a hand on Beca's back, but the brunette flinched violently, so Chloe was fast to place her hand back on her lap again.

"Beca..." Chloe said softly. "Do you know how to read?"

Beca went incredibly red, and her eyes gathered with tears. She was jittery for a short moment, before jumping up and making to leave the room.

"Beca? Please-"

"I shouldn't have- I'm sorry, I..." she ran out before Chloe could do anything.

"Wait." Chloe sighed, wincing as the door slammed shut.

She hadn't meant to insult Beca. Or make her upset. Chloe wasn't even sure what had happened. One minute they had been comfortably talking and Chloe had been showing her the keys, but the next Chloe asked something personal, TOO personal, and Beca fled. Maybe Beca really didn't know how to read, and was extremely self-conscious of it. Chloe would have to find out tomorrow.