I scanned the list as fast as my eyes would let me. I had hoped that maybe I might get the solo, but so much stress would be thrown on me. I still wanted it; I'd dreamed of it for as long as I knew about it. I practiced everyday on all three instruments that I knew how to play and auditioned on two. I had to have this.
"Congrats," said a student I knew.
I sped faster through the list. You'd think that it would be easy to find out if you got the solo but obviously not. Finally, I found my name, but it only said number one. Mr. Solomon liked to do things way differently than other band directors. He liked everything to be suspenseful.
I sighed as I walked over to another piece of paper a few feet away. Mr. Solomon did this to make everyone a nervous wreck, and he succeeded. I scanned the list faster than the first and found number one jumbled with a ton of other numbers in the middle. I followed the little dots to...
"I got the solo!" I yelped as I hopped over to my best friend, Sarah the clarinetist.
"You got it, Gabs," Sarah jumped up to congratulate me, "I knew you would get it, but which instrument you got it for?"
"Good question. I don't even know."
I looked over to the band director who stood at the back of the room near the instrument lockers. Surprisingly, I saw a new guy sitting in my chair. I, for the moment, sat in the clarinet section, because I had to talk to Sarah.
I glanced at him several times before class began, but he never acknowledged me. I thought that maybe he could tell that I watched him, or maybe he didn't care. It's strange how I would even care especially after winning a solo. It's not like I knew him- not even his name, but something persisted me to say the first word. I actually knew only one thing: he played the oboe, just like me.
"So?" Sarah poked at me for spacing out.
"Um, ok," I mumbled as I stood up and walked to Mr. Solomon.
"Oh, congratulations on the solo. You had amazing tone," he shook my hand.
I raised an eyebrow at him, "Which instrument did I get it for?"
"You can play either one. You were perfect on both, but the oboe surprised me especially. Just play the one that makes you feel comfortable."
I walked over to my seat and sat down, because Mr. Solomon added a chair since the new guy took mine. I pulled out my oboe reed and placed in my mouth to soak. I hummed the solo as I assembled my oboe. The bell rang twice and then class began with Mr. Solomon yelling out the warm-up for today. I pulled it out and fingered through it with my reed still soaking.
"Hey," whispered a manly but sweet voice.
I turned to see the new oboe player. I took out my reed and smiled, "Hey. How long have you been playing the oboe?" I felt stupid to ask, but I did.
"I got one when I turned ten, so I started to play then," he responded.
"Wow, you must be pretty good. By the way, I'm Gabby."
"I'm Brad, but I'm not as good as you think. You're obviously way talented to get a solo. That's really cool."
We fell into conversation as Mr. Solomon talked to some students who didn't have their instruments. Brad and I actually had a lot in common, but it felt weird that he came right before our big performance where I, the only oboe player, had the solo. I'm such a downer about everything, but he would probably throw me off on my solo if I let him. No. I had to stop worrying about every little detail. I got the solo, and no one would dare to take it from me.
