Chapter Thirty-Two
We don’t play D&D the next day. Maybe I’m being childish or emotional, but the idea of sitting next to Max for an entire evening feels more than impossible.
I text the group Sunday morning to tell them I’m not feeling well.
I know I’m not fooling Max, or any of them, but they don’t push me on it.
I finally clomp down the stairs to the kitchen around one p.m. when I’m too hungry to hold out any longer.
“Hey, there you are!” Mom says brightly. She’s at the kitchen table with piles of green fabric spread around her, while Kelsey is putting together a Lego set in the living room. “I was going to wake you up hours ago, but I got a text from Melanie that you aren’t feeling well?”
Of course she found out from Melanie before I even came downstairs.
“Yeah, just a little under the weather.”
“And I was thinking you’d be on top of the world after the amazing day you had yesterday. Are you still buzzing from it?”
“Yep,” I say flatly. “Totally buzzing.”
Kelsey pokes her head into the kitchen. “Did you get Max sick? I was hoping he was going to come over today so I could show him what I’m making.”
“I’m not sure how he’s feeling.”
That part is the truth at least. Max hasn’t texted and I have no intention of reaching out beyond my single group text this morning.
I’m not even mad at him. Or, at least, that’s not the main emotion I’m feeling.
It’s more that I feel so heavy I can barely lift my feet off the ground or my head off the pillow.
I’m surprised I can support my own weight right now.
“You should eat something. You look pale,” Mom says. “But first come look at what I’m working on!”
She lifts a dark green long-sleeved shirt to reveal that she’s ironed an absolutely enormous picture of my face to the front of it, along with the words Glen Vale Marching Knights and Color Guard Captain onto the back.
“What do you think? I’m making enough so the whole family can match at state.
Grandma and Grandpa should be coming along with Aunt Suzanne and Uncle Bill, and I didn’t want to leave them out.
And don’t ruin the surprise, but I also made a shirt for Melanie with Max’s face on it. She’s going to love it!”
I stare in shock. I know I should be grateful that she cares enough to make themed clothes, and that my extended family cares enough to come to state, especially given the conversation I had with Max about his dad.
But my face is so big on the shirt. She didn’t even include my neck or shoulders.
It’s just a stark oval cutout of my face.
Somehow, she’s also managed to choose the most unflattering photo from this season—my hair is extra frizzy, my face is pink and shiny with oil, and at least one pimple is highly visible.
I’m mortified at the idea of them all walking around with these shirts on.
They might as well also wear neon hats that blink My Daughter Is a Huge Dork!
“It’s…uh, it’s a little much, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely not! There’s no amount of cheering or excitement that could be too much for this moment. This is state. The end of your high school marching band career. The end of an era.” Her eyes glisten with tears.
Wow, this is not the conversation I was wanting to have when I walked down those steps.
I take a deep breath and remind myself to keep things in perspective.
Okay, yes, Mom is determined to embarrass me by wearing a shirt so ugly that I may need to wear a mask to the competition.
But at least she’s planning to come. I never (ever) have to worry that she’ll stop attending my events or won’t be interested in what I’m doing.
And that’s something to be thankful for…
right? Even if her tears and “end of an era” speeches make my nerves spike again?
I rub my fingers along the hem of the shirt, rather than look at her. “What would happen if the color guard didn’t get Superior ratings at state?”
“Don’t even think about it. Your group is so talented this year, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“But what if something happens? What if it’s windy, or muddy, or one of the members gets sick, or we just make mistakes? Any of those things could happen. I can’t control all that.”
I hold my breath, hoping she’ll say she’d be proud no matter what happens. She stands and comes around the table, taking both my hands.
“It’s totally normal to be anxious,” she says.
“It’s a lot of pressure being captain. I remember from when I was the trumpet section leader.
A lot of people are looking to you and I can understand why all these worries would be going through your mind.
But you already know what to do: Lock in and practice harder than you ever have before to build up that muscle memory.
It’s hard now, but it’ll be worth it in the end. I know you won’t let us down.”
She smiles reassuringly, but her words don’t soothe me the way I was hoping they might. Instead, everything feels even heavier now. All I want is my bed.
I’m in a horrible mood when I get to rehearsal on Monday afternoon. This might be the first time I’ve ever truly dreaded going to band. But I’m obviously on my own with that sentiment.
“Hazel!” Rosa cries as soon as she spots me. She and Yori start dancing. “I’m still on such a high from the competition! I never thought I’d care this much about color guard, but now I see why you’ve been so competitive this whole time. Winning feels so good!”
Deja and Callie join us. “Yeah, it does. I didn’t really believe we could get Superior ratings at state, but now I’m pumped,” Callie says.
This—exactly this—is what I’ve wanted all season long. And now that I have it, I can’t enjoy it. It’s not fair. I deserve to be joyful with my group, dammit. But I don’t want to pull them into my drama, so I try my best to put on a happy face.
“You were all absolutely awesome on Saturday,” I reply. “Thanks for sticking with it.”
“Right back at you,” Callie replies. “I know I didn’t make it easy.”
Sire walks to the front of the room and calls us to attention.
“First off, a huge congratulations to everyone for your hard work and dedication this season. It took us some time, but we did it. We’re officially state-bound!”
The roar of cheers is so loud my ears ring when we’re finished.
“Don’t forget that voting for the MVM awards ends this Friday, so please cast your votes.
Now, just because we’re coming off a great competition doesn’t mean the work is over.
State is next Saturday, and there are still things we can improve in the coming days.
” There are a few playful jeers and boos at this news, which Sire ignores.
“We’re going to spend the first part of rehearsal watching back the recording of our performance and analyzing where we can improve.
Before we begin, though, I also want to give a few well-deserved shout-outs.
Eric and Nova, excellent work on your solos.
You both sounded terrific. And can we all give an extra round of applause to our color guard, who not only earned straight Superior ratings on Saturday, but also brought home the best auxiliary award?
The last time that happened was seventeen years ago! It’s a tremendous achievement.”
To my surprise, the cheers from the band are almost as loud as they were a few minutes ago.
The guard members jangle my arms, and I smile and wave self-consciously, although I’m careful to keep my eyes far away from the percussion section.
No one is booing, so that’s a good sign, but I don’t want to see their half-hearted applause.
And I don’t want to see Max’s face at all. I’m not sure I can handle it.
The color guard sits down in a cluster of chairs in the back corner while Sire preps the performance film. “Oh, that felt good,” Devin says.
Li studies me. “Are you okay?”
I shrug and give her a watery smile.
“Are you sick?” Addison asks. “I was expecting you to be the most elated out of all of us. Where’s the choreographed victory dance? And matching T-shirts declaring us winners over the percussion?”
I laugh, though it’s a bit strangled. “Would you be shocked to hear I played with some designs on Canva last night?”
“I’d expect nothing less,” Madisyn replies.
“Girl, we’ve been together for four years,” Devin says. He puts his hand gently on my knee. His green nail polish from the competition is pristine, whereas I’ve already chewed and chipped mine off. “Don’t tell me this is your real reaction. What’s actually happening?”
At the front of the room, Sire is still messing with the video and lights.
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
“Nope, nothing means it’s something. We’re a team.” Devin glances around at the group. “We can’t have our leader falling apart on us now. Tell us.”
“You wouldn’t like me much as a leader if I told you.”
They all exchange surprised glances.
“We’ll love you no matter what, Hazel,” Li whispers.
I bite my lip. I could make more excuses or refuse to tell them, but honestly, what does it matter now?
“Max and I…we were kind of…” I swallow down my nerves. “Well, we were together and now we’re not. I’m still getting over it.”
“You and Max?” Keira squeals loud enough that I’m sure other people overhear. I squeeze my eyes shut in embarrassment.
“Sorry!”
“I’m so sorry, Hazel,” Li says. Unlike the others, she doesn’t look surprised. She’s more resigned than anything.
“Did he do something?” Yori asks. “Say one word and I’m bringing back my orc barbarian persona. I’ll knock him out with a flag pole on the field.”
“He doesn’t deserve you,” Callie says.
Rosa sighs. “You can’t trust boys.”
“Hey!” Devin complains. “I mean, having dated a few, I can’t argue. But I still take offense.”
“Thanks, everyone. I’ll be okay. I just…I really liked him.” Some of the emotion I’m desperately trying to hold back seeps into my words, and they all sit back at it.