My Crush; Or, As I Call Him, My Best Friend

The Boy With The Drums

•°•°• Friday, October 16, 2015 (5 seconds later)

"What did you just say, Darrion Jean Stone?" Blair demanded when she found her voice finally. I grinned sheepishly and ducked my head.

"Rico. Rico Andres Hernandez. My best guy friend, if you don't remember," I said, some of my normal attitude creeping into my tone. Minny suddenly grabbed me in a tight hug and screamed something about, "I knew it! I knew you liked him!". I detached myself from the taller girl's death-grip, and shook my head sadly.

"He doesn't like me that way, guys. He calls me his SISTER for crying out loud!" I said, my heart breaking as the words escaped my lips. It hurt to say, I really liked him. Too much. Way too much.

"No! I know he likes you, Dare, I know he does!" Blair screamed. Thank God we were alone, or people would think a murder was happening. She suddenly grabbed my arm and started pulling; next thing I knew, we were outside the bandroom doors. All of us, including Rico, were in band. I play saxophone, Minny plays baritone, Blair plays tenor sax as well as bass clarinet, and Rico plays drums. I realized what Blair was doing when she started gazing around the room. I yanked her out of the room and down the hall. When we were finally out of ear shot of anyone who might listen, I rounded on her.

"Blair Maire Vincent, are you crazy? You can not just go find someone and demand to know if they like someone, especially if that someone is like their sister!" I screeched at her. She just raised her eyebrow, which pissed me off. I lowarded my tone and glared at her before saying, "If you tell him, I will make sure Cynthia finds out you like her."

Blair smacked me when I said that. I deserved it; I threaten to tell one of her closest friends, as well as her crush, that Blair liked her. I shrugged at her, showing her I don't care, I will do it if she tells Rico. She grumbles under her breath before sighing and finally spitting out, "Fine, whatever!"

She glared at me, venomously, as I hold back laughter. She would smack me into next week, and thanks to her older brothers (she's the 7th of 10), she could beat me up like she used to to the guys in boxing and wrestling. I watched her box once. The other guy didn't look good after one round with Blair.

I laughed to myself as I watched my best chick friend finally stalk away angry. She deserved what I said so I didn't care. I walked back to the bandroom and got my saxophone out. I played a few scales, then headed back to where I knew Rico was; the drum closet. Sure enough, when I got there, he was pulling his harness off the wall.

Rico was about 5'9", built like a swimmer or a track star, and was Puerto-Rican to the bone. He has black hair, curly, but managable, and warm brown eyes that could melt the coldest of hearts. With the sweetest of smiles, he was a heart-throb that sent most girls (and some guys) swooning. He was also very loving and strong, loyal to the end of time, and a nice guy unless you were annoying and bothersome.

"Oh, hey Dare, I was wondering where you snuck off to," Rico said, smiling when he turned around. He hugged me, careful not to hit my baby (my saxophone, lovingly called 'the Duck'), then ruffled my hair. I glared angrily at him before fixing my hair.

We got to spend some time together before marching band practice, laughing and teasing. When the drumline captin, Treg Rhoades, came and got Rico for drumline warm-ups, I sighed. This crush of mine was going to kill me, I just knew it. As I headed off to practice, I had three things on my mind: Marching band, food, and the handsome boy I was hopelessly crushing on; the boy with the drums.