The Marching Band Chronicles: Year 2

Peter

After a football game, I, the silly hugger I was, went to go hug my friend Peter the bass clarinet player. We've been friends for a few years, so I thought it would be alright. I hugged his tall, firm body. He gripped tighter and popped my back a few times. After the hug, I look up.

"Holy crap, Peter," I say. "You just popped my back!"

"Oh," he says and grins. "Turn around and cross your arms across your chest."

Reluctantly, I do. He picks me up just under my rib cage and pops my back some more. During this, my arms flail and I yell for help while laughing. He puts me down, I say goodbye, and hug him lightly again.

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I set drill number 49, or something like that. The dark clouds shoot rain at the poor marchers on the field. Wood winds go to pit their instruments down. Fat, cold raindrops land on me and melt onto my bare skin. Mr. Ricardo lets us go under the bleachers for shelter. I go over by Peter along with Kassidy and Ariel. We talk, drenched, and yet still getting drenched from the cracks in the bleachers. Peter wraps his arms around me, shielding me. We talk about silly things, play fangirly songs like Misty Mountains Cold and I attempt to teach Peter Let It Go. Eventually, he says something about witches. I grin.

"I'M NOT A WITCH, I'M YOUR WIFE!" I shout. "AND AFTER WHAT YOU JUST SAID, I'M NOT EVEN SURE I WANNA BE THAT ANYMORE!!!"

His mouth makes an O and starts fangirling. "Oh!" He exclaims. "YASSS!!!!" Eventually, Ariel almost falls on his bass clarinet and he freaks out over that. I mean, I would too. Then, his finger randomly circles on my shoulders. It actually felt kinda good. Eventually, Dr. Brown calls us to run inside to the band room.

Once we're inside, I go to the bathroom, strip off my wet clothes, and out on a pink flannel shirt and some Seven jeans. I see Peter on the way to the low brass sectional.

"Stella," he says. "Are you cold?"

"Well, yeah," I say.

"Do you want this?" He holds up a large, black sweatshirt.

"I mean, I already have dry clothes on, but don't you need it?"

"I mean if you don't take it, I'll give it to someone else."

I roll my eyes in my head. "Alright. I'll take it." He hands me the jacket and I put it on, not zipping it for lazy purposes. After practice, I hand it back to him and continue on with my life.

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After learning a visual in the third movement, Mr. Ricardo let us back inside again. We did the same thing as yesterday. Rehearsal together, sectionals, then split up into wood winds and brass. After everyone had a rehearsal together, Dr. Brown handed out the what-to-dos to everybody. I went to go hug Peter on the way out. We embraced and. Peter let go first.

"Hey," he said. "Can I ask you something?"

I pause. I knew what was happening in that moment. "Yeah, sure," I say after a second.

Peter pulls out a pencil. "I'm going to write it down because I'm not good with public speaking."

"Don't worry. I get it." I see his hand move along the back of the blue what-to-do. Once he's finished he hands it to me. In half-sloppy handwriting, he wrote:

Do you like me?

I felt like I was blushing at that moment I finished reading it. My face felt hot and I beckoned him to come into the hallway with me. Obediently, he follows me into a corner by a vending machine.

"Why do you ask that?" I ask him.

He stops and slowly says, "Because I kinda like you." My cheeks feel hot again.

"I'm kinda not allowed to date," I say, ashamed. "My mom won't let me until I'm 16."

"How old are you now?"

"14."

He mutters something and then says, "Well, you could not tell your mom."

"That could work, but I have a very guilty conscience."

"Oh." He says. He looked disappointed.

"I'm sorry, Peter. I have to do this a lot. But the different thing is, I really like you, too."

We hug and then I leave for the Thomsin's van.

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The next day, he comes up to me and says we can be like my friends, Serena and Andrew. Serena isn't allowed to date, but they still like each other, and that was that.

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The relationship had gone steady for a few weeks, until Mini camp on one Saturday. He didn't even talk to me I tried to say hi to him while he was talking to Jen. He starts talking to her, then he notices me.

"Go away," he says. I throw my arms to my side and push them away from my body into a shrug. "Go away," he repeats. I shrug again.

"What did I do?" I ask.

"Just go."

I roll my eyes and storm away. He was acting weird, and I decided to talk to him.

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Before band practice the following Tuesday, I confront Peter. As usual, he was holding the door for EVERYONE.

"Hey," I say, my heart starts racing. "Can we talk?" He blinks tiredly. I continue. "What's going on?" No response. "I mean, you've been acting weird since Saturday. Like, you haven't talked to me since then." He still awkwardly stares for a few seconds, avoiding eye contact with me. "I'm still waiting."

"Huh?" He says, dazed. "I'm sorry, my brain's still turned off from last class."

"What? Math?"

"No, Coach Moore's class." I roll my eyes. Likely story, Peter. "I mean, I've had a lot going on in my life."

"Oh," I say. Then, I pause. "Anything I need to know?"

"I got a girlfriend."

My eyes popped out of my head. A girlfriend? Without telling me?! Man, was I pissed. "Oh!" I exclaim and then storm away. That was my first technical breakup. A few days later, I found out that his girlfriend was one of my friends in the SEVENTH grade. As you would know, I was even more pissed off at him. I never talked to him until...