Wouldn't it be Funny?

Chapter 5

As I walked into the band room after school, I was greeted by the sound of a trumpet playing. Silently, I crept past the doors. I was so intrigued by the sound, I forgot to hold the door so it wouldn't slam.

Amateur mistake.

Aaron stopped playing and whipped around. "Oh," he chuckled nervously, "I thought I would get some practice while I was waiting for you."

"Waiting? The bell just rang?"I wondered how he was here before me in the first place. I had left my last hour class twenty minutes early so I could gather my stuff and prepare a lesson for today's practice.

"Oh, I got permission to skip class completely. It was a study hall so it didn't matter." He put away his instrument,"You know you're in my study hall. You could have skipped class too."

I thought about that. Yes, I could have skipped. But I was more surprised that we were in the same class. I had no idea.

Still oblivious as ever.

"Huh, well your playing was excellent. I'm sorry I interrupted your practice." I looked at his music and observed that he played first trumpet. It was a more difficult piece of the music, a first trumpet played higher and it could be really tiring. "I'm surprised that Mr. Donner gave you this piece. This is the music I play."

He gave me a side smile, "You expected me to play the second part?"

"Actually, the third." I threw him my own cheeky smile, "But that was before I knew you were this good. Just don't get better than me, okay?"

I remember when he had spoken to me earlier that day, he had claimed to be "decent".

The stinker lied, he's just as good as me! He already has the music down pat.

"Alright, enough chit-chat!" I clapped my hands together. "let's get these lessons started."

We started outside on the practice field. It felt weird to be standing out there, just the two of us. It was lonely without the rest of the band.

"Let's work on your posture first. Without good posture, your marching technique will crumble." As I directed him how to hold himself, I tried not to touch him as much as possible. But he struggled a lot with keeping the position and would often slouch if he stopped paying attention. Or his head would droop and his feet began to slip. A few pokes here and there would keep him in position, at least until he would slouch again. I showed him how to do it myself, showing Aaron how to mentally keep his body still and alert.

A half an hour later we had gotten close to nowhere. It didn't make sense. I was doing the exact same thing that our drum majors did to teach the freshman. Suddenly I realized why he was struggling. Aaron needed more time, there was no way he could learn to march in a matter of days. He still had to catch up with everyone else.

"You know what? Let's call it quits for today." I helped Aaron off the ground where he had collapsed in exhaustion.

"I- I don't understand," He said between gasps. "Why am I so sore?" I was only standing!" He stretched himself as we walked back to the band room together. Although his way of "stretching" was in the form of throwing his arms about in wide arcs. His swinging arms were quite distracting, as I tripped on a crack in the sidewalk.

"Because you have been doing it wrong. If your posture is correct, then you should be able to "stand" like that for another hour. You just need more time. That's why you're going to band camp this Thanksgiving break." It was brilliant, with three days of solid training he should be caught up in no time!

"Band camp? I thought that happened in September before school started."

"It did, that's why you are going to have your own personal camp. Eight hours and more under the unforgiving sun, its great fun!" I should have turned down that sadistic smile on my face. The poor guy was in for a miserable week.

"But this Thanksgiving break? What if I have plans?"

I laughed, "What if you didn't? Wouldn't it be funny, if all your plans were canceled?" I froze. Why did I say that?! It even sounds creepy!

"That would be kind of funny I guess..." Aaron smiled nervously. He had no idea what I had just done.

Wouldn't it be funny, if all your plans were canceled? What is that supposed to mean?

These predictions were wild cards, and I was worried. Apparently now something was supposed to cancel his plans?. I coughed, trying to cover up the queasy feeling in my stomach. We finally made it to the band room.

"You know what? Cancel Thanksgiving break. That was a horrible idea. I stepped out of line, and I don't want to get in the way of any family plans you might have." I said as we walked through the doors.

"Plans? What plans?" Charolette zipped up her backpack and headed toward us. She had been waiting patiently for us to finish practice

"Ember just offered to take me to band camp this Thanksgiving break," Aaron spoke up.

I was shaking my head, "No, it's a really bad idea. I shouldn't have even offered."

"Aaron's not doing anything over break, so it's happening now! You can text him the details later. And you, dear brother, are taking me home!" She practically dragged him out the doors. He was such a sweet brother, she was half his size and he let her drag him out like it was nothing. Perhaps if he really didn't have any plans, to begin with, I have no reason to worry.

It made me feel sad as I watched them leave the building. I thought about my own brothers as I gathered my bags. I hadn't seen them in years, ever since the divorce. Seth would be in eighth grade and Levi in fourth. While they lived with my mother, I stayed with my father and his wife. I decided to stay with my dad after the split-up my freshman year.

If only I had predicted that.

I didn't want to switch schools, so I stayed and helped Dad manage the building he rented. I haven't seen my brothers since then. It didn't matter much now after I graduated I was going to manage Dad's rental business.

Shouldering my backpack, I made my way to my car. I almost choked on the musty air trapped inside my old truck. This band camp better run smoothly, if another episode like what happened to Phil came to be... Well, best not to think of that, I had an empty home to hurry to.

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This chapter's a wee shorter, only about 1000 words. My usual goal is around 1500. That's reasonable right?? How much do your favorite authors write? Who are your favorite authors?

I used to be obsessed with Walter Farley's The Black Stallion.
(I still am)

Anywhoooo I'm still writing mobile, boo! 😒

I promise that it will get more interesting, I'm just getting the ball rolling.

Comments are greatly valued, I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Votes are also very encouraging *cheeky grin*