John Doe (Teacher X Student)

Sets

At the end of my sophomore year the band director, who we'll call mr. m for mean, told us he was taking a different job. The seniors were sad, but the rest of us were relieved. He refused to tell us who it was that would be replacing him and he said we'd know at band camp that coming summer, so we waited.
I was a week late for band camp because I hadn't yet decided if I would join my junior year. Then I suddenly changed my mind, I thought of either trying out for guard or the quads (tenors).
Once I walked in, everything changed. It had been almost 2 years, but I still remembered those eyes and that voice. It was Mr. Doe. He sat in Mr. M's old office, and boy had he changed it. Several playbills of shows were on each wall, and different composers. He even had some stupid witty sticker that said "got Beethoven?".
I smiled when I saw him, and he returned it. He waved me into the office and told me to close the door. We sat there discussing what I wanted to do. Drumline was no longer a option because tryouts had already been set up and the drums assigned. Guard was an option but I was still teetering on my choices. I must of made it obvious because he asked me "is there another instrument you can play? Maybe the trombone? Corey is the only trombone player, it'd be nice to have more than one." After he was done I went on to explain how I'd never even picked up a brass instrument.
With in the hour he had me pick it up and had me learning it. I could only play F, but it was a start.
In 6 weeks I was playing my music and marching along with everyone. He had been getting along with my mom and mentioned to her the first few weeks how I was great at faking it. But that week he had boasted about how he could finally hear me playing my part and my marching had improved.
I couldn't hold in my excitement at his appraisal and pride in me. The rest of that year I learned more about him and how much we had in common, but I couldn't go near him. Not in our positions.
So I waited. Every day at practice I would sneak a peak at him while he was setting people in there spots on the field. He came over to me and put his hand on my back and nudged me forward. "Diana, you're 9 steps off the hash, annnnnnd 2 off of the 45". I stepped to the right two steps and was set, But he moved me again. He grabbed my arm and pulled me to where he stood on the other side of the line. "Here Diana, you're inside the 45 not outside," he looked into my green eyes and I looked into his blue ones. There was something about his eyes that said "aged and mature" but then would flick "adolescent and fun". I couldn't see a fault in either one of them, and let him let go of my arm when I looked ready.
So many times I wanted to give up, to approach him and flirt with him and see if he would respond. But no, I wouldn't go near that. Not yet. He was turning 25 in 10 days and I had just turned 17, how would that look? I didn't want people to think badly of him. That was even if he liked me. Wow, I'd never thought of that before then. That he may not even like me like that. I mean sure we look into each other's eyes and he touches me when helping me with my set, but doesn't he do that with everyone?
Once I started thinking I began to doubt my feeling and his. That was the first year I had found myself a boyfriend. Before I'd never thought of the concept of a boyfriend, I'd only thought of John Doe. Of how he would wait to tell me he likes me after I graduate and we would fall in love. But that wasn't a certainty.
That year I met Tyler.
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