Sax and the City

Chapter 5- You My Number One!

Kayla met Aron in the school's library after eighth period finished. She brought with her the day's Spanish and Trig assignments, and a tube of Baby Lips. Hey, you can't blame a girl for trying.

Still embarassed over yesterday's events, Kayla was kind of hoping Aron wouldn't show. But there he was, wearing his neon yellow sweatshirt and rifling through his backpack.

"Hey, what's up?" Aron greeted her. "I brought us a little study incentive." From his bag, he produced a package of chocolate-covered espresso beans.

"No way!" Kayla slid into the seat next to him. "Remember that one rehearsal? In sectionals?"

Aron laughed. "Mr. Quintey was so mad! You were wearing a freaking beret!"

"I was experimenting with my playing style, okay?" Kayla snorted. "Let's get down to business, or I'm gonna fail Spanish."

"Okay." Aron took Kayla's Spanish textbook and pulled out the sheaf of paper tucked inside.

"Let's practice sentences." Aron paged through a glossary.

"Okay, um, Puedes leer los numeros para mi?"

"Can you.....can you read the.. the numbers for me?"

"Close, but to me, actually. Okay, say a sentence in Spanish and I'll translate it back to you."

Kayla blanched. She was terrible at Spanish! In pure panic, she blurted out the first thing that came to her head.

"Usted mi numero uno!"

"You-" Aron fought back a chuckle that rose in his throat, "You my number one?"

Fudge. Fudge, fudge, fudge, fudgecakes with cheese and tartar sauce. fUdGe.

"I, uh, think I did that wrong." Kayla flushed.

"Mhmmmm." Aron mumbled. "Let's move on, shall we?"

They struggled and slaved through Trig until Kayla felt confident in every answer and could solve any problem on the sheet. By then it was time to head off to band. Kayla and Aron packed up their stuff and walked down to the band room together, but she had to stop at the bubbler to down some more painkillers.

"Your head still hurting real bad?" Aron asked somewhat tentatively. He still remembered Kayla's outburst from yesterday and was anxious to avoid another of the same genre.

"Not really." Kayla said casually. This was a blatant falsehood. Her head  KILLED.

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Luckily for Kayla, Mr. Quintey chose to start band off that night with sectionals. For the Alto Saxophones, a notoriously rowdy bunch, it assured them of a solid half-hour of goof off time. They were banished to the Print Shop, their favorite place. It was filled with boxes and boxes of stuff. As per tradition, they bribed the drum major with espresso beans and posted him as lookout. A nerdy, studious freshman and eighth grader actually ran through the music. Mari promptly began to try to balance on a pole (a fact Kayla noted rather gleefully) sticking out of the ground. Aron and Kayla began to dig around in the boxes. She discovered a bin stuffed to the brim with finger puppets, which were passed around the room.

"Hey, look at me, uh-huh-huh, I am what zee Americans call le Franch!" Aron announced in a terrible French accent, donning the infamous beret.

"Monsieur, please, play for me le Concert in B flat?" Kayla trilled, wrapping a pink scarf around her neck. Suddenly, there was a loud knock at the door. Kayla frantically shoved the finger puppet box under a table and Aron stuffed the beans back into his bag, but the package burst and they scattered everywhere. In his haste to clean up the mess, he knocked over a music stand. Mr. Quintey walked in at that exact moment. His eyes scanned the room, taking in the beans on the floor, the fallen music stand and scattered music, Aron's beret, and Kayla's scarf.

"In my office. Now."

Kayla and Aron shared a guilty glance. As they walked to certain punishment, Aron winked at her. Kayla's stomach fluttered. Another memory to treasure at 3:00 a.m some time.