Band Geeks

Numero Seis

        So, you're probably wondering how the show went. With the whole football team there, and me about to puke, it probably went great, right?

        Eh. It was alright. This isn't one of thost miracle stories about the best band ever here. This is real life after all!

        Examples of reality include: The trumpets still forgot to look down the line in the middle of the circle rotation, and the woodwinds were so out of tune sometimes I cringed a bit. Of course people missed the visuals, and my conducting was so high above my head I'm surprised a plane didn't try to come in for a landing. But we made it through! And everything went sort of right. So I was proud. Not that you would understand what any of what I just said meant, but still. You get the gist.

        After the show and the standing ovation from the parents (what do you expect, it's their children!), the annual drill down was called for returners. Oh, drill downs. The bane of my existence. When I got drum major, one of the greatest bennefits was that I didn't have to march in these God-forsaken marching competitions. Give me spots to march and run them by me a couple times? I'll remember them and go there. Boom. Done. Ask me to react really quickly to something you just asked me to do? You might as well ask me to go lift that school bus over my head and throw it at the principal. IT'S SO BAD. Not kidding.

        At least most of them I got to call instead of compete. Except for this one.

        Let's say I was more than a little relieved when I heard someone call me from behind. I turned to find Roger, Tommy, and Christian coming towards me as the rest of football team tried to exit the stadium, pushing and shoving. Typical boys!

        I glanced back at them, eyeing them warily, figuring out what they thought. What came next was not what I expected.

        "How do you do that arm thingy?" Tommy looked eager as he asked that and started waving his arms in strange circles, looking like some crazy hooky pooky.

        "Yeah I don't understand what it means! There's so many different.......swoops and things you did. I couldn't follow it at all!" Christian gazed at me in wonder. "Can you explain it?"

        The next comment really surprised me. "It helps keep time so everyone stays together. Duh dudes." All three of us whipped our gazes to Roger in surprise. Wait, wah?

        I don't think I had ever seen Roger blush before that day. He glared at everyone in defiance through the heat of his face. "I took band at my old elementary school, okay?"

        I felt my eyes light up. Actually felt the enthusiasm come out of me. I can't help it guys. The story is named thus for a reason!

        "Roger, you should join one of the ensembles! We would love to have you!"

        And woah. That did not process from brain to mouth. It fell out and hit the air with the force of Big Boy hitting Hiroshima. Damn the enthusiasm.

        Then the surprising thing happened. "Eh. I might. Give me some more variety for college applications." He actually looked me in the eyes. "I'll keep you posted."

        The guys still oogling Roger, I just laughed. The last person I expected! This is great!

        Then I kind of stopped for a moment. Huh. I really hadn't expected that. And it was nice, to be on some sort of similar level compared to someone who, according to the U.S.'s hierarchy, should be way above me. 

        I looked at all three of these "football players" as Tommy and Christian jumped Roger to give him a noogie for holding out on them. How much else did I not know about them? How much had I judged them based on the prejudice I was taught?

        And most importantly.....should I trust them to not hurt me like I already had been?

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        Heading to the parking lot after Jace's older brother Brett's inevitable victory (it ran in the family, Jace usually won the ones at band camp), I laughed and waved at Hilary with her parents. I don't know what it is about new band parents, but they always flock towards the drum majors. And so do the freshmen in general. I used to do the same thing, but still. I have no explanation at all.

        My van was one of the last cars in the lot, my parents leaving a while ago to try to beat traffic. I gazed at my hunk of junk that was my ticket to freedom. I will say one thing about how rusty and falling apart my van was. I don't think people realize how awesome it is to have a mini van in high school. Honestly, you can go from driving a couple of friends around to driving six friends. SIX! That's a huge difference. So despite the fact that the roof leaked, the side door handle was ripped off, the trunk had to be opened with a string because the handle was broken, and various complications with the engine, my van was everyone's go-to ride if we all had to go somewhere. But for once, I was alone.

        As I pushed the unlock button, I heard a noise behind me. Being a rather jumpy person, I turned my head a little too quickly, getting another crick in my neck. The pain left my mind as my eyes widened in surprise. Two feet from my face stood Christian. Also alone.

"Um......Hi?," I mumbled in shock. Most people would be embarassed by this being their response, but I have grown so used to my incredibly awkward nature that I didn't even flinch. 

"Hey." He smiled at me, and I felt confused. He was too close, we were too alone, and I had never been smiled at like that before. Never. Not once. The worst part was, being me, I had no idea what the hell it meant.

"Can I help you with something?"

"I just wanted to say... you did great. Really. And if you want me to teach me how to...," he hesitated, and then tried to wave his arms in a conducting pattern. I laughed out loud. He looked like someone drowning. "...then I would be up for it." He smiled wider as I continued to chuckle, still not quite over his earlier display.

"I'll think about it." My smile grew wider. "You might want to rethink this idea before you get into learning something from me. I'm a bit of a perfectionist."

"I think I could handle it," Chrisitian smirked, blue eyes twinkling. "I never back down from anything or anyone."

"Alright then. I suppose I could attempt to teach you." I put on my most deadpan face, and held out my hand. "Do we have an agreement?" And yes, my posh Britishness that I sometimes pretend to have came out.

Christian tried to hold in a laugh and failed before finally schooling his face into seriousness. Or, as serious as he could make it. We'll have to work on his deadpan while we work on the drowning arms thing.

"We do." And we shook on it. And to this day, I wonder if the adrenaline from the show had gotten to me to make me think getting to know Christian was a going to be easy. Once again, my stereotypes had me thinking that things would be simple. I could not have been farther from the truth.