“Now girls, on the arpeggio you’ll notice that it’s a drawn out chord, or the same notes played in progression.”
Half of the Introductory Music class took notes, a quarter just had no real clue and the rest were indifferent to the lesson. But, as it neared to be three weeks into the semester, on the whole the girls of Buttercombe had collective thoughts about one of their newest teachers.
Namely, how would her weight change? Those already with a few years at Buttercombe under their (expanded) belts knew of the effects the school had on those that attended, teachers included. Even newer students could pick up on that within the first month. Instead of being a question of when they would get fat, rather how and how much.
Although for a while it looked like the new Choir and Orchestra teacher, Rebecca Voll-Spillum, was actually going to be a question of ‘when.’ It helped that she was tall and slender. Rumors of her being the closest on faculty to match eye level with Tasha Kretchkov, the headmistress’s right-hand woman. Rebecca could cross the music room in a few long strides. Her height naturally added to her authoritative presence in class, enough that even with the likelihood that this was her first teaching gig she could command the classroom quite efficiently. It helped, besides her poise, with the suggestion that Rebecca Voll-Spillum was some kind of musical prodigy. One girl had found that she had been a viola chair in a famous European orchestra until a short time ago. This tall, grandiose music teacher had not only the talent but the air of professional experience, remarkable as she looked to be in her mid-twenties.
Profession aside, Rebecca also drew attention with the curiosity of if she would avoid the Buttercomb 15(0). Many saw her eat modest meals in the cafeteria or ignore the frequent vending machines on each floor of the campus buildings. Even her welcome basket, a favorite Buttercombe tradition at the start of term, remained largely untouched as she kept it for decoration at her desk.
In the present class, Rebecca was behind the piano. She wore loose, flowing clothing, quite fashionable with her business yet playful tied up dark hair. “This is me singing above the tone, listen carefully.” She played a chord and was about to sing until she coughed. “Excuse me.”
That was an unusual thing about Rebecca Voll-Spillum. One of her earliest pieces of advice to all of her students, more of a loose guideline than a rule, was no dairy or soda before performance. Dairy could increase the phlegm in a musician's throat and hamper their airflow, the syrup from soda having a similar effect. Yet either she considered herself above this rule or was absentminded towards her own advice, as her students soon noticed that she frequently had a soda or milkshake in her classes.
There was a remedy for that, as professor Voll-Spillum paused to wash out her mouth with a liter sized water bottle. Actually, a bare minimum of two kinds of beverages were around the Choir and Orchestra instructor at all times.
After that throat rinsing (rather it could be called quaffing) Rebecca continued playing notes and singing each chord of the arpeggio for the lesson. Some of the girls in the class, though, gleaned a different kind of information. And for those that saw it there were quiet giggles and whispers shared with friends.
Truthfully, Rebecca Voll-Spillum had not looked to gain weight so far into the semester. But, under her billowy black and grey clothing there was a jutting stomach. No, not any optical illusion, the teacher did sport a small protruding belly, ‘small’ given the height of her frame. And the teacher’s water bottle was looking rather empty.
Rebecca drew out each note with hard strikes on the piano to best let the tone deaf in the class try to comprehend chord progression. Each strike sending her bloated belly to jiggle with fluid consistency, like shaking a water balloon in the hand.
“She’s an outie,” came one whisper, commenting on the gumdrop dot that marked the perky protruding stomach. Others had their own comments or jokes or uses for this information, adding to the background murmur as the class finished.
The ringing bell half-surprised Rebecca, who had been so in the zone she hadn't paid attention that Introduction to Music was one of her shorter classes. "Allright girls," she said, standing heads taller than the teens filing out, "next time we'll return to scale work and pull out those recorders!" As if the smallest plastic woodwind instrument was that exciting. Or should even still be a thing at the alternative to high school education level.
As the last of her students tailed out Rebecca made quick strides over to her desk where she opened a drawer containing her phone. She had a small amount of time for checking farming villages, clashing clans, and earning her daily bonuses on her favorite games. Right? Rebecca could be such a mobile gaming junkie that sometimes it impacted her schedule, such as the next item on her itinerary.
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