head, not eager to offer up an explanation. She sighed inwardly when he motioned for her to come forward. She stood resignedly, setting her trumpet carefully on her seat, and wound her way up front.
“Sometime when you have a study hall or some day after school, do you think you could gather some people together to help me sort through the old music?” he requested. “That room back there is a mess.”
“Oh. Okay. Sure,” she responded, caught off guard. “Um, I don’t have any study halls, but all I have going for me after school is band, so any other day I’m free.”
“No problem,” he said. He was looking at her oddly. When she turned to go, he asked, “Why aren’t you doing chorus this year?”
“Oh, I just…” Melody trailed off into a shrug, though that was not really an answer.
“She’s going to be really uptight with me,” Mr. Bell warned, but his eyes were smiling.
“She’ll live,” Melody responded, smiling as well. She turned around and made her way back to her seat. Her eyes searched for Andy automatically, just like they always had, but to no avail—he was not there. She furrowed her brow and lowered herself into her seat slowly, eyes darting around for him, but he was not in the band room anywhere.
Mr. Bell took his place at the large wooden podium. “Could I have an F concert scale, please?”
Melody raised the trumpet to her lips obediently, and the remaining members of the band ran through a few warm-up scales, then two stand tunes, including “On Wisconsin” and “Louie, Louie,” before the band room door opened again. Those who had been excused for the choir meeting began pouring back into the room. Melody noticed with alarm that one member of the swarm was Andy. He filed into the rows of chairs and took his seat in front of her, lifting his saxophone. He did not look at her. He did not say a word.
The remainder of rehearsal passed slowly. Melody was distracted. When it was over, Mr. Bell instructed them to put their instruments away, but she had something to take care of first. She tapped Andy on the shoulder with two fingers.
“Shit!” Andy exploded, whirling around and dropping his mouthpiece. Evidently she had tapped him a little harder than she had intended. “What?”
“You’re doing choir this year?” she demanded.
“Yeah. So?” He continued taking his saxophone apart without really looking at her.
“So, what made you decide to do it this year?” she asked. She hesitated, then added, “And why did you wait until I said I was going to quit to join?” She had mentioned this little fact to him a few weeks before school had started.
“I was thinking about joining before you said you were going to quit,” he responded absently.
“You’ve never seemed interested in it before.”
“I just wanted to try something new,” he said peevishly. “Why are you getting on my case about it?”
Melody hated the fact that when he confronted her, she immediately felt apologetic, sometimes completely unnecessarily. This was one of those times. “I just thought it was sort of weird, that’s all,” she said lamely. Of course he had the right to do whatever organization he wanted, but he was acting strangely. She felt the urge to smack some sense into him. Fortunately, that passed. She put her trumpet away and snapped the case closed. She could not escape the heavy feeling in her gut, like she had just lost some major argument.
Melody stood to put her instrument away in the closet when Lucas Snyder walked over to the two of them. Melody had known Lucas for years, but he was more Andy’s friend than he was hers. “Hey, guys,” he said. “How’s it going?”
“Melody’s giving me the third degree about joining choir,” Andy responded, without looking at Lucas.
Lucas wrinkled his nose. “Ew. Why are you joining choir?”
Andy rolled his eyes and did not answer.
Lucas
“Sometime when you have a study hall or some day after school, do you think you could gather some people together to help me sort through the old music?” he requested. “That room back there is a mess.”
“Oh. Okay. Sure,” she responded, caught off guard. “Um, I don’t have any study halls, but all I have going for me after school is band, so any other day I’m free.”
“No problem,” he said. He was looking at her oddly. When she turned to go, he asked, “Why aren’t you doing chorus this year?”
“Oh, I just…” Melody trailed off into a shrug, though that was not really an answer.
“She’s going to be really uptight with me,” Mr. Bell warned, but his eyes were smiling.
“She’ll live,” Melody responded, smiling as well. She turned around and made her way back to her seat. Her eyes searched for Andy automatically, just like they always had, but to no avail—he was not there. She furrowed her brow and lowered herself into her seat slowly, eyes darting around for him, but he was not in the band room anywhere.
Mr. Bell took his place at the large wooden podium. “Could I have an F concert scale, please?”
Melody raised the trumpet to her lips obediently, and the remaining members of the band ran through a few warm-up scales, then two stand tunes, including “On Wisconsin” and “Louie, Louie,” before the band room door opened again. Those who had been excused for the choir meeting began pouring back into the room. Melody noticed with alarm that one member of the swarm was Andy. He filed into the rows of chairs and took his seat in front of her, lifting his saxophone. He did not look at her. He did not say a word.
The remainder of rehearsal passed slowly. Melody was distracted. When it was over, Mr. Bell instructed them to put their instruments away, but she had something to take care of first. She tapped Andy on the shoulder with two fingers.
“Shit!” Andy exploded, whirling around and dropping his mouthpiece. Evidently she had tapped him a little harder than she had intended. “What?”
“You’re doing choir this year?” she demanded.
“Yeah. So?” He continued taking his saxophone apart without really looking at her.
“So, what made you decide to do it this year?” she asked. She hesitated, then added, “And why did you wait until I said I was going to quit to join?” She had mentioned this little fact to him a few weeks before school had started.
“I was thinking about joining before you said you were going to quit,” he responded absently.
“You’ve never seemed interested in it before.”
“I just wanted to try something new,” he said peevishly. “Why are you getting on my case about it?”
Melody hated the fact that when he confronted her, she immediately felt apologetic, sometimes completely unnecessarily. This was one of those times. “I just thought it was sort of weird, that’s all,” she said lamely. Of course he had the right to do whatever organization he wanted, but he was acting strangely. She felt the urge to smack some sense into him. Fortunately, that passed. She put her trumpet away and snapped the case closed. She could not escape the heavy feeling in her gut, like she had just lost some major argument.
Melody stood to put her instrument away in the closet when Lucas Snyder walked over to the two of them. Melody had known Lucas for years, but he was more Andy’s friend than he was hers. “Hey, guys,” he said. “How’s it going?”
“Melody’s giving me the third degree about joining choir,” Andy responded, without looking at Lucas.
Lucas wrinkled his nose. “Ew. Why are you joining choir?”
Andy rolled his eyes and did not answer.
Lucas
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