Even a Scream Has A Musical Scale - Chapter 14

Despite the freezing temperatures, beads of sweat dotted Remington’s forehead. He, who was usually impeccably groomed, now looked disheveled, his appearance a stark contrast to his usual meticulous self. His hair was tousled, his tie askew, his shirt rumpled, and his once-polished black Oxford shoes were now smeared with dirt from the melting snow.

Traces of the search he had conducted were evident in every corner of his presence.

“…Did you find me?” the voice asked, tinged with a mix of surprise and curiosity.

“It’s Buddy Day today,” Remington responded, catching his breath as he spoke.

Remington’s disheveled state was something new to her, a sight she had never seen before. Her gaze was fixed on him, and she found it impossible to look away. Her mind was foggy, and her heart fluttered with an unfamiliar sensation.

“So, you were looking for me?” she asked, trying to make sense of the situation.

“Yes,” Remington replied curtly. “How could I not, with you going out looking like that and not coming back?”

Her thoughts raced—what was she to him? Did he dislike her that much?

“Stop staring and take this. It’s your uniform,” he said, holding out a large shopping bag.

“Eleanor bought it, but Junior stole it, so it took a while to get here. It won’t happen again. I’ll apologize for Eleanor.”

She accepted the bag slowly, her mind still processing the situation.

“…Thank you,” she said softly.

“Don’t mention it,” Remington replied, his tone flat.

As she observed his sullen expression, a feeling of irritation began to itch at her.

“I didn’t know you called. My phone was in my uniform pocket. I didn’t expect you’d be looking for me…” she admitted, her face showing her surprise and relief.

Remington glanced at her for a moment before turning away. “I’m leaving.”

“Have you eaten lunch?” she asked, her concern evident.

“That’s not your concern,” Remington said as if his only duty was to return the uniform and check on her before moving on.

He turned his back and walked away. Only when Mr. Benjamin called out, “Come back soon, Remington!” did he pause to wave before continuing on his way.

Mr. Benjamin looked at her with an amused expression. “See, isn’t he a reliable buddy?”

Instead of responding, she watched through the small window in the iron gate as Remington disappeared into the winter woods.

****

It was at that moment, for the first time, that she considered the possibility of becoming friends with Remington. Perhaps, she thought, she might even come to like him.

****

Following the incident in the swimming pool locker room, a disciplinary committee was convened concerning Eleanor. The process was a formality. Given that Eleanor was the principal’s daughter and an exemplary student, she was sentenced to eight hours of community service.

The accuser was Mr. Benjamin. In return for reporting the principal’s daughter, he was assigned the task of managing the new library.

“Of course, I’ll do it. It’s quite fitting. I have a surprisingly deep appreciation for the humanities, you know,” Mr. Benjamin said with a casual air. Gratitude and guilt intermingled in her heart. She gifted him a luxurious shaving kit, and he smiled, promising to keep his beard neatly trimmed.

“Though, I do feel a bit sorry for Remington. I heard he got quite an earful from the principal,” Mr. Benjamin continued.

After the proceedings, the principal reportedly said to Remington, in front of the other students, “As a grade representative, you can’t even manage one close friend? I wonder if you can handle the responsibilities of a senior representative. I can’t entrust the role of the senior representative to an incapable student, especially not someone with the face of Eratum.”

She couldn’t help but worry about Remington. The image of him breathlessly handing over her uniform lingered in her mind, and she felt a pang of remorse. She visited the principal’s office to explain that Remington was the only student who had returned her uniform, but the principal, though kindly, responded with a chilly, “I’ll consider it.”

****

She glanced at Remington while stirring her salad with a fork. Since the disciplinary committee, Remington seemed more on edge than before. Concerned, she looked over several times, prompting Remington to snap at her while slicing his chicken.

“Stop staring.”

His gaze remained fixed on the knife. How did he know she was watching?

“I just wanted to thank you again,” she said.

Only then did Remington stop cutting and look at her. She continued, “Thanks to you, I got my uniform and phone back. I’m grateful. And I’m sorry about the disciplinary committee. I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

It wasn’t easy for her to express this, and she felt a flush of embarrassment. Trying to lighten the mood, she offered a small smile. Remington, having finished cutting his chicken, swapped his plate with hers.

Then, he asked a rather unexpected question. “How long are you going to carry that around?”

“This?” She held up the shopping bag she had placed on the floor. Remington nodded.

It was the bag containing the borrowed uniform from the swim locker incident. Though she had cleaned it thoroughly, she had yet to encounter the original owner. She wondered if it even belonged to an Eratum student.

“I’ll keep carrying it until I find the owner,” she replied.

“Do you plan on carrying it all the time?”

“If I want to return it.”

“That’s quite thoughtful of you.”

“I’m grateful. He helped me.”

She shrugged and pushed the shopping bag to one side of the table. Remington’s gaze followed it.

“Why are you still looking at someone else’s uniform?”

“I’m curious about the thoughtless person who gave away his uniform so freely.”

Remington looked as if he might burst into mocking laughter at any moment. She bristled at his expression.

“Don’t be like that. The person who helped me was kind. Don’t talk about him like that.”

“How naive. He’s infatuated with you. That’s why he went out of his way to do you a favor.”

“You’re too cynical.”

“If you weren’t pretty, do you think he would’ve given you all his clothes? I don’t think so. He’d have called a teacher or maybe just taken off his jacket. Anyone who gives away his shirt in this weather with no ulterior motive is either a pervert or an idiot.”

Despite Remington’s best effort to be sarcastic, the part about “even if you weren’t pretty” echoed painfully in her mind. She took a big gulp of water.

“Do you remember what the person who lent me the uniform looked like?”

“I told you. He was well-built.”

She set her glass down and responded. Remington frowned, looking at her with a dismissive expression.

“I wonder what you say about me when I’m not around.”

“……”

She picked up her knife and cleared her throat.

“Anyway, Remington, I need to wrap things up with Eleanor. If more problems come up, it might affect your chances of becoming the senior representative next year.”

“How touching that you’re thinking of me.”

Remington said this with a face that showed no sign of being touched. He glanced at the shopping bag again, then, as if realizing this wasn’t the right moment, he squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again.

“So, do you have any ideas?”

“No. You know Eleanor better than anyone.”

“You’re asking me for advice?”

“If you’d be so kind. I’m desperate. I’m pleading with you, so please help me.”

She pushed a piece of meat into her mouth as she spoke. Remington burst into laughter and crossed his arms.

“Can’t you be more desperate?”

“I’ll pray for you during morning worship for the next three months.”

“You don’t seem like the type who gets much favor from the gods.”

At that, she narrowed her eyes.

“Forget it. I don’t need your help.”

“Then what will you do?”

“I’ll have to go to Eleanor tonight and beg her on my knees. I’ll say, ‘I don’t like Remington, so please stop tormenting me. I won’t even have lunch with him anymore.’”

“Crying while you do it?”

“If Eleanor wants me to.”

Remington shook his head.

“How naive. That would probably just make her want to torment you more. I’d start seriously bothering you from that point on if it were me.”

He spoke as if he had imagined her tear-streaked face in great detail.

“…So what should I do?” she asked.

“Pretend to like Duncan,” Remington said, scraping his plate with the tip of his knife. The unpleasant sound grated on her ears, causing her to frown.

“What do you mean?”

“Make Eleanor believe that you like Duncan. That way, she won’t bother you as much as she does now.”

“Who’s Duncan?”

“He was the guy standing next to me the day you came charging at me in front of the cabinet.”

“I don’t remember.”

“He looks like Eleanor. Duncan is Eleanor’s half-brother.”

“…Half-brother?”

“Eleanor’s parents divorced a few years ago. They’ve each remarried, and Duncan is Eleanor’s half-brother.”

The explanation only added to her confusion.

“Why pretend to like Duncan specifically? Why not just pretend to like any guy?”

“You ask too many questions.”

“I can’t do something without knowing the reason!”

But Remington seemed determined not to elaborate further. He looked her straight in the eye and continued to persuade her.

“Roderson, I want to resolve this problem just as much as you do. As you said, Eleanor and your issues are messing up my plans.”

“…I’m sorry about that.”

“So listen to me. In the end, all you want is to end the fight with Eleanor, right? This time, our goals align.”

Remington smiled, and she found herself persuaded.

“Fine, but at least tell me what Duncan looks like.”

“You don’t remember? It’s not the kind of face you’d easily forget.”

“Is he unusual-looking?”

Remington gestured lazily toward the window.

“I mean, he’s good-looking enough.”

She leaned closer to the window, peering out at the courtyard in front of the lecture building, visible from the cafeteria. Among the many students milling about, she quickly spotted the only person who fits Remington’s description of “good-looking.”

“Oh….”

She watched the profile of a boy slowly walking toward the sports center. His short, sunlit blonde hair, defiant eyes, carelessly worn uniform, and his strong, masculine physique were all unmistakable.

“That’s him!” she said, pointing to Duncan and holding up the shopping bag towards Remington. “He’s the one who lent me the uniform!”

Remington’s face fell as if he had just tasted something sour. He dropped his knife onto the plate, looking as though he might be sick.