Barbwired Honey

Chapter 2

I felt like death left out on the sidewalk for five days by the time fifth period started. Because of the way marching bands practice was set up actual band rehearsal is always scheduled for the for the second to last period and marching band the very last. The great part was that it counted as our P.E. class. The worst part was that it was held for about three hours after school. Expect on Tuesday. Tuesdays meant staying until 8:30.

Jade had left for her guard class after lunch, leaving me behind in the band room. The room was now filled with people running around grabbing instruments, music folders, and pencils. One by one we all took our seats in the semi-circle situated in front of the podium. I being the first chair for the whole band meant I had to sit the closest to the podium.

Hawke finally made his way into the room and handed each row a stack of the revised sheet music to pass out. He got on his podium and just stood there and nodded at us for a good solid minute.

It was comforting to know his strange look matched his strange personality.

"So, here we all are. I do understand that we have seen each other the past two weeks but I thought this would be a great time to give a little pep-talk. I want you all to succeed this year, with championships and what not, but I can not do all the work for us. You are responsible for being prepared in this class. Which means knowing your material and bringing your supplies to practice." He stopped and took a long pause, staring at all of us.

"Pencil check!" He shouted. All but the freshmen and a junior had their pencils, which had the band oh-ing at them as they ran to grab a pencil. He turned to me and gave me a look that read, See what we have to deal with. He turned back once everyone had a pencil and were seated again.

"Now do you see what I mean. It has already been two weeks and still so many of you still do not come ready." He huffed. "And how many have you brought something to carry your drill book in?" Only about a third of use had raised our hands. "Well it can only get better from here."

Hawke finished his speech and we were finally able to get to the music part of the whole thing, which is the only thing keeping me alive at this point.

Look, while I wholeheartedly love the band, but today's practice was a good damn nuclear disaster. The trumpets kept rising while the trombones and tubas kept missing their cues. Every reed instrument kept squeaking and a reed even cracked half way through one of the runs. The flutes weren't any better which was a personal stab at my own leadership skills. The only ones who seemed to have their shit together was the percussion.

Marching band practice was just as much as a disaster.

First of all, we don't have a locker room to change in to our work out clothes. The only locker rooms on campus are for 'actual' sports, which means we all have to change either in the middle of the band room or wait in line at the bathrooms. I fall in to the latter.

Second is that a good portion of us don't know where to go for the show. The only upside was that no instruments were hurt when people would inevitably collide together.

Luckily we got to keep Kevin Micheal as our drum major, unlike last year where they kept dropping like flies which caused so much drama. He seemed to be the only one completely ready for competition. Which he better be cause his only job is to conduct.

By the end of practice I felt stiff and in need of a century long nap.

However, it was actually good day. You'd have to be insane to think a good hundred and forty people are going to get all their collective shits together in two weeks.

We got back to the band room and put all of stuff away for the day. Jade was the first to make it to the car and it made me realize the guard hadn't practiced with us today. We got in and she told me about these two new freshmen that had never touched a flag before as she drove us home. They were apparently so afraid to get hit that instead of practicing tosses the would just spin the flag in half-time. I laughed a little at it. Even though I wasn't in the guard I was able to at least do a single on flag. Though this was mostly Jade's doing.

We eventually made it to my house and we called it a day. Jade didn't bother to stay and see if I made it inside. Just drove off flashing a peace sign. I made my way up the walkway saying hello to the rose bushes for no logical reason. The roses were my mom's idea. If there were two things she loved it was stars and flowers, though she was never actually allowed to tend to them.

For a moment the house was quiet until I heard noises in the kitchen.

I walked in to the kitchen to find my mom cooking at the stove and I watched as she work. People used to say that we could be twins. We both had the same thin face, golden hair, and hazel eyes. I mentally thanked her for given me her looks.

As she moved her dress kept getting caught on handles and have to wrestle to break free. I frowned. She always wore dresses that make her look like a 1950's housewife. My guess is that she hates them but only wears them because my father forces her too.

I called out to her but she didn't seem to hear me. Or she was just ignoring me. I came up next to her and tapped her on the shoulder. She nearly jumped in surprise, almost spilling whatever was in the pot and pushing me away from the stove in the process.

"Oh it's just you." She huffed and pushed me further away from the stove. "Don't stand so close you could- " She made a face and turned back to whatever she was going.

Memories tried to wiggle their way in but I pushed them aside and self-consciously rubbed my chest. "What are you making."

"Spaghetti." She an open can of the corner and tossed the contents into the pot.

"You don't really need to make anything. It's not like he's here."

"You still need to eat though, right?" She turned back to look at me and made a shuing motion at me. "No point in you standing around. Food won't be done for another hour or so."

"Right." I whispered and made my way out of the kitchen and upstairs to my room.

Somehow my room of brightly colored trinkets and posters seemed dull now. I tossed my bag aside, switched my t-shirt for an ill-fitting, long-sleeve shirt, and flopped onto my bed. I had no homework and was too depressed to compose anything, so I opted to stare at my ceiling and reevaluate my life.

Today had been a relatively good day but seeing my mom recently always seems to ruin it. She's just so quiet lately and often pushes me away. Most days she would ramble on and on about something see read or a great idea she had. But now? Nothing.

It wasn't always like this though. People used to say my mom and I were joined at the hip, wherever she was I was there too. And then one day she just stopped. I tried asking what was wrong but she waved it off with a smile saying she was just busy nowadays. It was an obvious lie but I gave up on finding out the truth.

I hadn't even realized I had fallen asleep until my eyes snapped open and it was completely dark in my room. I turned to the clock and it read 10:24 PM. I huffed and forced myself to sit up which my body was not happy about. I felt groggy and like shit but mostly just hungry.

Apparently my mom went to bed because all the lights had been turned off, which led to me struggling to find the light switches. I stumbled my way to the kitchen and pulled open the fridge. I took me a whole fucking minute to realize that there was a prepared bowl of spaghetti with my name on it waiting for me. I pulled it out and throw it in the microwave to heat up.

I rested my head on the counter and came face to face with a tipped over wine glass. I scrunch my nose at it but righted it cause I felt bad for it. Poor guy doesn't have arms.

The microwave rang out and I used the sleeve of my shirt to grab so I didn't have to touch the hot surface. I didn't feel like walking to the table so I settled for the cold tiled floor instead and ate in my spaghetti in silence.

The spaghetti would have tasted amazing if it was fresh. It would have tasted great if I had heated it up all the way. Instead the middle of the bowl was barely warm and the outer rim was extremely warm. I was way to tired to get back up so instead I just mixed it and hoped for the best.

So I just sat there eating spaghetti with cold spots, on the kitchen floor, in the middle of the fucking night.

Man that nap really fucked me up.