Chapter Twenty-Seven
“If I can have your attention,” Sire calls Monday afternoon after everyone has filed into the band room and gotten settled in their seats.
“We’ve got two weeks until our last local contest, which means that another important event is coming up in October: the Most Valuable Member awards.
These awards are granted to one person per grade level.
They’re voted on by peers, in conjunction with ratings from myself and the other assistant directors.
We’ll be opening up the ballots this Friday, and I know they mean a lot to students, so please make sure that you vote.
Also, remember that this is not a popularity contest, but instead a way to acknowledge students’ hard work and dedication to our marching band. Please vote accordingly.”
Sire stares around the room like he’s forcing his words into our minds, but let’s all be real, of course it’s a popularity contest. Just hearing his speech reminds me of why I was so set on winning at the beginning of our season, but that’s more of a long shot than ever, no matter what Mom wants to believe.
We already know there’s one section that will not be voting for me.
As soon as Sire releases us, the guard heads to the auditorium for our rehearsal. All the members bunch together, whispering, and I join them hesitantly. Hopefully they aren’t angry about anything happening with guard. I’d really thought we were coming together as a group.
“I’ve been seething about it all weekend,” Callie says.
“Seething about what?” I ask.
“About the game on Friday,” she replies incredulously. A few of them nod in agreement. “I assumed you were too.”
I blink, momentarily confused, and then remember the stunt the percussion section pulled before our halftime show. After everything with Max this weekend, the football game wasn’t even on my radar. I get the impression that’s not what they’re expecting to hear, though.
“Uh, right, absolutely,” I say and roll my eyes like I’m so upset to be reminded of it. “Although it’s obvious Brody’s only organizing this stuff because he’s bitter and frustrated. We should keep ignoring him.”
I bite my lip, wondering if Max is having a similar conversation right now with his section. Not that I could ask him while we’re still on school grounds. We didn’t talk about it officially, but I’m assuming we’re continuing with the “play it cool” strategy today.
“Hazel, what’s with you?” Devin asks.
“What do you mean?”
“We thought you’d be extra fired up today,” Madisyn replies. “Devin was already complaining about all the extra drills you were going to have us do since the competition is coming up.”
“Who cares about drills?” Rosa says. “What we need to do is figure out a way to put percussion in their place once and for all. God, I can’t stand them.”
“I had to wash my shorts four times to get that vinegar smell out, and sometimes I think I can still smell it,” Yori says. “Those were my favorite.”
“We should do something,” Deja says.
“Maybe pour some vinegar in their hats so they have to smell it the entire time they’re marching.”
“Or hide all their performance gloves. Or their drumsticks! Sire will lose his mind.”
The others laugh, except for Li, who looks tense. I know she must be thinking about Felix. This is getting way out of control.
“Whoa, let’s calm down a bit on the vindictive streak,” I tell them. “That’s not going to do anything except have us sitting on the sidelines when Sire finds out what’s going on. We have to keep focused on what’s really important.”
But even as I say that, I know I’m not following my own advice.
Devin was right—usually I would have spent any downtime during my classes deciding on which drills we needed to do today.
I’d have every minute planned out, along with the rehearsals for the rest of the week.
Instead, I spent my time imagining what Max was doing today in his college classes and wondering how everyone would take it if we announced we were dating.
I guess I have my answer to that second question.
The rest of the guard continues to grumble around me, muttering about how we need to destroy percussion.
I appreciate their loyalty to this group, but I don’t like seeing them angry.
And it isn’t true that the entire percussion section is out to get us.
Maybe telling them about me and Max could turn down the tension between our two groups?
It might humanize the percussion section for them… or blow up in my face.
We work on hand placement for our windmill tosses, but I’m grateful when Faith shows up twenty minutes later. She’s trying to get here more now that our biggest performances are coming up, and for once I’m happy to hand over the reins and take a step back.
When practice finishes for the day, Nova finds me.
She’s wearing her favorite black shirt that says Dogs > People.
“Hey, so Max told me to tell you that you should meet him in one of the individual practice rooms before you leave.” She frowns when she notices my beaten-down energy. “Is everything okay?”
She and I texted all last night as I caught her up on me and Max. I was worried she might be critical after her earlier concerns about us getting together, but she was only supportive. Of course she has no idea about how the guard is feeling. I groan and push my hair out of my face.
“Yeah, the guard was just reminding me about how much they hate the percussion section. It made for a very uncomfortable rehearsal.”
“Oof, sorry.” She gives me a playful nudge. “But I think some time in the practice room will help.”
I find Max in the second of three rooms off the main band room.
The practice room is small, just big enough for a chair and music stand, and the walls have foam tiles to help with sound insulation.
The only way to see into the room is a small window in the upper half of the door, and not many people come in this hallway unless they’re using one of the rooms. This is the perfect place to be alone for a few minutes.
“How are you?” Max asks as soon as the door is closed behind me.
I shrug and look away. “Meh. The guard is still seething about Friday.”
“Brody really knew how to time that perfectly, huh?” he replies with a grimace. “So you didn’t tell them about us?”
“I assumed we weren’t doing that, right? Did you tell your section?”
“I haven’t said anything to anyone.” He smiles reassuringly at me, but I don’t feel better.
“Is it dumb to keep it a secret?”
“I don’t think so. Like we talked about yesterday, it makes sense with everything going on. Although I wish I was allowed to do this more often.” He leans in and kisses me softly on the temple.
“Sire would kill us.”
“Maybe we need to go check out that forest walk behind the school again.” He lifts his eyebrows in a silly yet suggestive way that makes me laugh.
“I see you finally found out why people go into that forest.”
“I’ve known since I got here.”
My stomach drops. “You knew? The whole time?”
“Brody was quick to taunt me about how many times he’s gone back there with girls.”
I quickly push that gross thought from my mind. “Then why did you suggest we go there together?”
“Because, well…” He studies my face. “I thought you knew why! Did you think I wanted to go walk in the woods because we were friends?”
“I mean…yes?” My jaw might become unhinged from my skull, I’m in such shock. “We were barely getting back on good terms then, so there was no way you had any interest in me and—”
“Hazel, I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since you jabbed your finger into my chest and told me off.
You were so gorgeous I could barely breathe.
I was sure you’d shoot me down when I asked you about the forest.” He looks both morose and amused as he runs a hand through his hair.
“When nothing happened there, I was convinced you weren’t interested. ”
I slap my hands over my mouth in shock. “I didn’t know! I didn’t even think something like that was possible!”
He leans back and groans, which makes me laugh. His expression has morphed to pure agony.
“Are you telling me that if I’d made a move in the forest, you would have been open to it?”
I think back to that afternoon and the way my mind had immediately gone to kissing him when he told me he wanted to make things right.
“I’d describe my past self as exceptionally open to it.”
This groan is more agonized than the last. “You’re killing me. All that time I was worrying about how to convince you to take a chance on me and it was all for nothing.”
“Not for nothing.” I step closer to him. “We’re here now.”
“We are here now,” he murmurs slowly, and my heart speeds. “And you’re happy about that?”
“I’m more than happy.”
The corner of his mouth lifts in a smile. “Then come here.”
He raises his hands to either side of my neck and kisses me.
This time feels different than Saturday.
I sink into his chest and revel in the feel of his mouth against mine and the fact that all this time that I’ve been wanting him, he’s been wanting me too.
It’s incredible. We’re finally here together and I don’t want anything to ruin it.