Mr. Rifle, our band director, stood on the podium as he whipped his hair to the side. He had long strawberry blonde hair that hovered over his eyes and he flipped his hair all the time.
"Okay guys every year we have about fifteen to twenty eighth graders help the high school over the summer and during football season,"he said. "If you're interested come up here so I can get you're name down so I can make the itenerary. Talk to your mommas about it so I can be sure."
Most people,including me, went up to Mr Rifle,holding a clipboard, to give him their name. He went down the line of people getting names until he finally got to me.
"Sara Stone," I said as the bell rang for fourth period.
I should probably introduce myself. I am Sara Stone with no "H". Everyone gets it wrong. I'm used to it though. You would too if they'd been spelling your name wrong since kindergarten. Anyway I'm not the tallest person ever, but I'm taller than most of my friends. I have long,dark chocolate brown hair with forest green eyes and glasses. Not supermodel looking, but not awful. There were some things about me I liked.
"Bye Mr Bay!" I called out to my band director. Mr Bayzlee had tought me since sixth grade. (In this part I'm in seventh grade) He was my favorite since I didn't know the rest of the directors that much. I was his favorite saxophone player and he was my driving inspiration to keep going.
"Bye! Have a good day!"he called back in a loving manor. I left the bandhall into the sunlight and I was on my way to science.
YOU ARE READING
The Roadie Life
Non-FictionSee into the eyes of an eighth grade girl who finds herself working with the her fellow band members.
