Like You Mean It

7. Hayden

I stood in the hallway starstruck as Cam headed to warm-up.

I had kissed Cam. With nobody around. I kissed Cam, all on my own. He was panicking, I needed to do something to get him to stop spiraling. But he let me kiss him without anyone nearby. He was spiraling, I needed to do something. I kissed him and he kissed me back with no one around.

And then we just sat against the wall, my arm around his shoulder and his head on my shoulder as we watched an episode of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. I couldn't believe he had never heard of it or even watched it before, so I put on the ski episode. He laughed. His stupid, infectious laugh and I felt the stupid butterflies in my stomach flutter.

And then he kissed me. It was soft and sweet. Sure, it was probably just because his drumline was watching us but still. He was a great kisser and gosh it was just. Wow. I couldn't stop thinking about kissing him and about holding him and just about him. I couldn't stop thinking about him.

There was a stupidly big grin on my face just thinking about him. Definitely a big, stupid grin on my face.

I sat back down with the rest of my band, still grinning, and sat through two gruelingly annoying performances. It was clear it was their first performance of the season. They were shaking, unconfident in their performance, clearly didn't know their drill entirely, and frankly unimpressive. It was like watching a battle for last place.

"Did those bands know how to march?" Max asked softly from beside me.

"Max." I hissed with a grin, hitting them, "We have to be nice. We're upperclassmen, we need to set an example."

"Ok well." They paused, "I think that they are extremely nervous performing because clearly none of them have ever marched before and obviously they just learned about the basics yesterday." Max quipped and I tried to hold back my laughter.

"Oh my god, we can't bring you anywhere." I laughed.

"At least my insults are creative." Max grinned.

"Maybe you should major in English instead of business," I teased.

"And make no money? No thanks." They rolled their eyes with a laugh, "Someone has to make the money in the relationship and David is going to be a great trumpet-playing trophy husband."

"With the amount of money you'll be shovelling into your degree at Amherst, it'll be a miracle if either of you make any money." I chuckled.

"Not all of us are D1 prospects. You won't make much either with a music education degree though." Max laughed, "You'll be one of those ring by spring education majors. Hopefully Cam doesn't want to go for music."

He wants to be an engineer. He told me that during one of our late night bus ride talks. He wants to be a mechanical engineer.

Soon, Valley was marching on.

"Ladies and gentlemen, now marching to the field is the Merrimack Valley Fightin' Titan band! Their show this year is entitled "Star-crossed" and will feature a retelling of the classic tragedy of Romeo and Juliet. The band director is Bo MacDonald. The drill instructor is Judy Hunter. The drum majors are Thomas Miller, Jane Nguyen, and Abigail Luiz. The color guard captain is Valarie Murphy. The drum captain is Cameron Miller. Drum majors Thomas Miller, Jane Nguyen, and Abigail Luiz, is the band ready?" The announcer's voice filled the tense air.

All of us were watching, full of nerves. The air was heavy with fear. Tom saluted and placed down his shako. He had the confidence of the Carolina Cavaliers drum major at finals. I could hear Jace grumbling about him as the crowd cheered. Tom counted in the first song. It was kind of funny watching the looks of sheer horror falling over everyone's faces as Mars opened.

It was less funny when I realized that they sounded better than their first home game. Like way better. Regionals-winning better even though we had another month, really more like six weeks, before regionals on October 28th. Their first song ended wonderfully, getting ovations from other bands.

The opening song was fucking fantastic. The music sounded fantastic, the drumline was locked in as the song came to a close. My eyes didn't leave Cam. If he was still nervous, there was no way he was showing it now.

Then the drum break. Cam headed to the front of the band. He scanned the audience, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly when he saw me. Everyone else around him dropped out. And he just went ham. It was amazing. His triplets were precise, his stick rebounds were perfect, he looked up, and I could see him looking straight at me. He wasn't even looking at his drum as he finished his solo and ritardando into Romeo and Juliet Love Theme.

Our eyes locked. It was just us. The cheering crowd faded out and I just saw Cam. Standing there in all of his glory, that stupid yet endearing smirk on his face. Tufts of ginger hair peeking out underneath his shako. His composure never shaken, looking as though he just performed a solo at World Class Championships.

He was still in front of the band as the winds came in, he back marched to his dot and the song truly began. It was goose-bump-inducing. My heart was racing. We're screwed. We are so screwed.

The Winner Takes It All was just melancholy enough to bring the crowd to a shocked silence. Then as the opening notes of Somewhere floated over the crowd, people were going fucking crazy. The song ended at a chilling fortissimo as Juliet screamed her fucking blood-curdling scream and collapsed next to Romeo on the field.

When they marched off the field to the screams of adoring fans, I went into the hallway to try to compose myself before lunch. It was not working at all. I splashed water on my face in the bathroom, paced around the halls, and then sat against the wall where I had kissed Cam an hour ago trying not to completely lose it.

I hadn't practiced enough. I was going to derail the performance. The pre-performance nerves had crept up and surrounded my throat, trying to collapse it in upon itself. I hadn't done nearly enough to be good. I couldn't match Cam at all. I wasn't good enough to be on our drumline, let alone be the drum captain this year. I didn't deserve this. I wasn't good enough.

How could I ever be good enough? Cam had always been better than me since the beginning. How could I ever compete with him? Was this whole stupid thing with him just a plot to get me to freak out? Did he even care? Why did I even care if this was real or fake? I shouldn't. I shouldn't keep doing this. I shouldn't care about him. Why did I care so much about him?

Why is it so hard to breathe?

"Hayden?"