Please Be Mine

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Please be mine.

The words ran through ’s mind like a ticker tape. Even as she stood on stage, baton in hand, conducting students through a three-quarter time signature, her mind was on what Jake wrote.

She held her hand out to the saxophones, waiting for the crescendo that would lead the band into the last quarter of the song. They’d rehearsed this part tirelessly over the past month, and throughout every practice, she caught herself thinking about how Jake would have been able to nail it. Then she would cut out all thoughts of him, because it was Jake after all, and she was being ridiculous.

lifted her hand higher and higher, signaling the saxophones to crescendo along with her movements. The six of them played through it with practiced ease, putting a smile on her face. The lights were hot on her neck as sweat pooled down the back of her black dress, her toes pinching inside of her heels. But she continued through the song with a smile on her face, watching the way her students lit up, all realizing that they finally did it. That drilling that part over and over paid off.

She held out her left hand, flicking her baton in the other as the song drew to a close, and then swiveled both hands in a circle. The auditorium was silent as she kept them raised in the air. She grinned at her students, and they grinned back. Then she let her arms down by her sides, and the audience erupted.

“Oh my god, Miss C, that was so freaking cool .”

“The way we stopped playing, it was so clean! So perfect!”

listened to her students gushing after the concert as they made their way back to the band room, adrenaline at an all-time high.

She smiled, threading her hands behind her back. “Now imagine how that would feel on the field, during a competition. ”

Kelsey, one of her juniors, frowned. “But we’re so bad.”

“And yet, you saw what happens when we practice,” replied. “All we have to do is apply that same drive on the field.”

Kelsey looked at Ron and Gloria, the three of them having some kind of silent exchange as they eyed one another.

slowed behind them. “What is it?”

“Well, we were wondering,” Kelsey started, then her words drifted off, her cheeks flushing.

Ron swallowed, nervously pressing the keys of the saxophone still looped around his neck.

Gloria swallowed, then tucked her piccolo underneath her arm and crossed them, facing . “Would it be all right if we hosted captain practices next year? Before real practice?”

raised a brow, trying to look composed, even though her heart was racing. Captain practices. They’re finally taking things seriously. “What would that entail?”

“Extra exercise to work on endurance,” Kelsey blurted out. “Extra practice time for parts that are sticky that we can’t seem to nail down during practice.”

“Gives anyone struggling more time,” Ron added. “We’ll keep an eye on everyone, make sure they’re not burning out.”

“We’ll probably want to run through our formations on the field as well,” Gloria tacked on. “Just to make sure we’re ready.”

She smiled at Gloria, feeling confident in the decision to make her next season’s drum major. Kelsey was also a go-getter, with lots of spunk and authority, perfect for handling the brass section that was typically way too full of male-dominated energy. Then there was Ron as the woodwind captain, the softer of three, a perfect complement to their duo. Even now he handled this conversation with care.

She nodded. “Can I ask what brought all of this on?”

Gloria eyed the other two. “Well, we might have looked you up and found some high school marching band videos…”

perked up. “You watched my band?”

Jake , she thought. They watched me. And Jake.

“Yeah, damn, you guys were so good,” Kelsey rushed out.

raised a brow at her, warning her to watch her language. Kelsey flushed, then nodded.

“We want to be just as good,” Ron added.

“But we’re not going to get there unless we have extra practice time. We want to be the best. Better than Mariner’s Cove,” Gloria emphasized.

“I think it’s a great idea,” said calmly, ensuring her smile didn’t look too overenthusiastic. She’d learned the hard way: students weren’t so keen on doing something if the teacher showed too much eagerness.

She gestured her hand toward the band room. “We can talk more about it toward the end of the year, when we start planning the band season.”

The three of them looked pleased as they made their way down the music wing, to their main domain. As they opened the door, expected the students to be rambunctious, on that familiar after-concert high.

But the room was eerily silent as they stepped in, and it didn’t take much for to figure out why.

The inside of the room was filled to the brim with red heart balloons.

sighed. “All right, joke’s over. Happy Valentine’s Day to us all. Now who did this?”

She scanned the crowd, waiting for someone to step forward, or at least giggle conspicuously enough to give themselves away.

Yet none of the students budged, their eyes on the shiny red balloons, some of them reaching up to poke them with trumpets and clarinets, sending other balloons ricocheting across the room.

She folded her arms. “Guys. Come on.”

“We didn’t do it, Miss C, we swear,” said Ciara, her oboe clutched to her chest.

Gloria made her way through the room, scanning each band member like she was a human lie detector.

Kelsey narrowed her eyes at the balloons, then froze. “Um…Miss C?”

exhaled audibly. “Yes?”

“I think these are for you.”

Frowning, she made her way to where Kelsey stood. The balloon in front of her had a small cream envelope tied to it, with two words written on the front.

My

Her heart leapt into her throat. “Oh god,” she whispered.

“Is that a love letter?” Kelsey squealed.

didn’t respond, her hands clammy as she held the unopened envelope, her mind racing at how any of this could be happening.

She coughed, clearing her throat. “It’s…well…”

“Oh my god that is so romantic,” Kelsey said. “Open it, open it, open it.”

could feel bodies crowd around her, and anxiety spiked in her chest. She untied the letter and carefully ripped it open. There was a single piece of paper in it, and on that paper were two simple lines.

I hear oysters are best in the winter.

Tomorrow. Salt & Shell. 8 p.m.

She flushed, then stuffed the letter in the pocket of her dress, composing herself. “Everyone, feel free to take some balloons home. Great job tonight!”

There were a few disappointed awww s and no fair s, but she did not need her students to know about her love life. Or…whatever this was between her and Jake.

She made her way to her office and closed the door. After one long breath, she reached for the paper and scanned the text over and over, her mind back on the words she hadn’t stopped thinking about the entire week.

Please let yourself be happy.

Please be mine.

Things may not always work out the way she wanted them to, like what’d gone down with Cory. But tonight, she watched her students light up with that feeling of rightness after the concert, that feeling of success after working hard and craving more of it. She wanted to see that spark in them since starting her job two years earlier, and for a while there, she’d convinced herself that it would never happen.

Things didn’t always work out…but sometimes, like tonight, they did. And she wondered if the same would be true with Jake.

She folded the letter and placed it back in her pocket as she made her decision.