Thanks to Roguecatwoman for the inspiration ;-)

Opera High

Christine was super excited. Why? Because first day of school and she already had chorus on her schedule. Sixth period.

Awesome. Of course that meant 5 periods to go--not so awesome, but she can deal with it.

Christine sat down in first period English and looked around at her peers.

"Boo!" someone shoved her from behind.

"Joe, What the heck?" Chrisine turned and saw Joe Buquet, class prankster, suffering from the giggles.

"Haha! Scared ya!" he pointed and laughed. "Betcha thought I was a ghost!"

Christine felt her face get hot, "Did not! I don't believe in ghosts and I wasn't scared. I was startled."

"Whatever scared-y pants!"

"Joseph, that's enough." Came the stern voice from the front of the class. "Sit back down."

Christine made a face at him as he stuck his hands in his overall pockets and slouched away.

Just then, Principal L walked in the room. Principal L was a stout man with a wide mustache, eye glass, and a warbly voice. He's well known to have a big mystery fascination, which explains why he made everyone dress up as Clue characters for the dance last year. He was imaginatively weird, but a nice guy.

"Hello class," He said as he walked in with someone lingering behind him. "For most of you, today is the first day of school, but for our new student, this is the first day of school at Opera High. Right, Erik?"

The principal moved aside to reveal a tall, dark, thin boy in a mask standing behind him. There was an awkward pause and Principal L continued, "He has been home schooled until now, so be kind." The emphasis he put on the words "be kind" was unmistakable.

With that, he left, and the whole class, with the exception of Mrs. Giry, stared in silence.

The new boy didn't seem to notice. Everyone watched as he moved silently to the back of the class. Literally, they couldn't hear his footsteps. It was almost as eerie as the piece of black cloth that covered his face. And he was tall. About six feet, Christine estimated. Maybe Six-two, six-three. But very well proportioned. He wore a crisp, white button-down shirt and black slacks. Chic, Christine thought.

"Pssst Chris!" Christine looked to her right. Meg flipped her blonde ponytail to the side prettily, "Caaa--reepy!" she rolled her eyes towards Erik's direction. "But kinda hot!"

Christine giggled.

"You know what else is kinda hot?" Meg's eyes rolled to the other side. Christine's gaze followed.

Raoul DeChagny, otherwise known as Raoul The-Shag-Me, Opera High's All-star quarterback. Not really built like one, but he was fast. Ridiculously good-looking, incredibly popular, and disgustingly rich. He looked up at Christine, but she quickly looked away.

It's obvious why they called him The-Shag-Me. Every girl wanted to jump his bones except for Christine because she was too involved in her music. She'd known him all her life but never spoke a word to him. His parents hired her dad to tune their piano once and Christine tagged along. She ended up watching Mr. Shag-Me play "The Prince of Persia" for two hours, and they didn't speak a word. Two hours to tune a bunch of instruments he didn't play.

"He's staring at you!" Meg whispered.

"Who?"

"Shag-Me."

"Oh."

Meg rolled her eyes, "You should smile back!"

"Checking out his reflection in the window isn't the same as staring at me."

Meg rolled her eyes again. "Oh, get off your high horse!"

"Christine Daaé!"

Mrs. Giry's chalkboard pointer slammed onto Christine's desk. Why did she sit in the front again?

"Yes, Mrs. Giry?"

"Concentrate, girl!"

"Yes, ma'am."

Meg giggled.

Wham! The stick hit Meg's desk and she jumped. "You too Meg Giry."

Meg nodded three times too quickly.

"Now Erik…" Mrs. Giry looked down at her attendance sheet. "Erik Perrault. Please summarize the assigned summer reading for the class."

There was a pause.

"Erik Perrault, are you in this class?"

"Yes ma'am."

Unified gasp. That was undeniably. The sexiest voice. Christine. Had. Ever. Heard.

Mrs. Giry was taken aback as well, but she quickly recovered. "Did you read the Great Gatsby?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Then please outline the story in brief for us, Mr. Perrault."

Another pause.

"The story is about a poor man named Gatsby who earns a lot of money to please a rich woman named Daisy. Despite being in love with him, Daisy is too selfish and careless to leave her brutish, cheating husband for Gatsby. When she is finally forced to choose between the two men, she runs away with her husband and forgets Gatsby ever existed. She leaves Gatsby to die. Which he does. Alone."

How morbid, Christine frowned.

"Very good Mr. Perrault." Mrs. Giry tapped Christine's desk lightly. "Ms. Daaé, do you agree with Mr. Perrault?"

"Um, not entirely."

"Oh? What is your take on it then?"

"Well, while Mr. Perrault's account is somewhat accurate, his pins Gatsby's downfall on Daisy, and I think Gatsby should take responsibility for his own actions."

"Please explain."

"Well Gatsby and Daisy were in love before she got married to Tom, that's true. But Gatsby knew from the beginning what Daisy was rich and spoiled and he accepted that. When he comes back, he tries to win her affections by disguising himself as something he's not. He made a futile attempt to live up to her impossible standards. This could have all been avoided if he chose to give her up."

"Interesting," Mrs. Giry walked towards the back of the class. "And Mr. Perrault, any response?"

There was another long pause.

"None of use can choose who we will love."

Christine turned around and looked him in the eyes. Gold eyes, like a cat's, bored right into hers. Christine felt a chill. She kept reminding herself that he was talking about the book. But she was unnerved by first his voice then his eyes and sweat was forming at her brow. There was something unsettling about that boy and she needed to get as far away as possible.

The bell rang, and it broke the spell.

Christine picked up her bookbag and quickly shuffled through the door.

"Hey, Chris, wait up!" Meg ran up next to her, still bouncing and gleeful. "Wow, that was kinda intense…I thought you guys were going to go at it and then make out!"

Christine gave her friend a square look. "Oh, really?"

"Well, I mean, maybe he's really hot under that mask. Cept he's, like, a total nerd, cuz who's actually DOES their summer reading?"

Christine stopped. "I'm deeply insulted."

"Right," Meg laughed, "But you're a self-professed nerd. And you're my buddy, so you get a free pass."

Christine grinned and linked arms with her friend. "So…what do you suppose is under that thing?"

"Besides pure sex?"

Christine smacked her friend's arm. "Seriously!"

"I don't know," Meg shrugged, "Maybe he has a skin disease or something."

"That's what I was thinking too...except what skin disease only covers your face?"

"A facial skin disease," Meg answered.

Christine was about to smack her friend's arm again when she heard her name.

"Hey, Christine, Meg – hold up!"

Meg and Christine turned around.

"You dropped this."

Raoul The-Shag-Me ran up to them and placed something in Christine's hand. She looked down. Her father's red scarf. She liked wearing it because it was like a wrap on her and kept her warm. It must have fallen out of her bag when she was in such a hurry to get out of class.

"Thanks," Christine smiled.

"Sure," he grinned a wide, charming grin, and his blue eyes twinkled. "I just didn't want it to get trampled in the hallway."

"Yeah, that's nice of you, thanks," She could hear her smile through her words.

Meg just stood here, drooling and mouthing "You know my name?"

"Ok, well, I gotta run to my next class so, see you later?"

"K, thanks again!" Christine waved at him as he walked away. Suddenly he stopped and turned to her, "Hey, thank your pops for fixing my piano for me, will you? It sounds so much better now. Next time, you should come over again."

"Yeah, sure." She was definitely blushing now.

He grinned impossibly sweetly again and walked away.

Meg put her hands on her hips. "You should drop your my scarves more often. Shag-me now or shag-me later."

Christine smiled. "You read way too many romance novels."

"I just watch Drew Barrymore movies."

Christine folded the scarf and tucked it neatly into her bag. She and Meg turned to leave when there was light tap on her shoulder.

Their eyes met.

"You dropped this."