FicWad

Our band was a pitiful, tiny band with few dedicated players and seniors made up most of the sections. That meant there wouldn't be enough people for next year to have a marching band at all. It was up to me to give it all I had.

The trumpets, with the foul spitting instruments, liked to giggle and mess around a ton, giving the director more grief than he needed. What did we need trumpets for, anyhow? The good high notes came from the flutes.

Speaking of flutes, we had one, a mysterious little freshman by the name of Jenny. She always had her beady brown eyes wide open, and they would get impossibly wider as she played higher. I couldn't tell if I had a crush on her, 'cuz she was so damn weird. Weirder than me and my brother, Mikey.

Mikey, Mikey. He played on the battery, tenors to be exact. It's a problem when one little boy such as Mikey can carry around and even march the heaviest instrument on the battle field.

One of Mikey's friends from battery was named Frank, the cute petite snare player who would always catch my eye when my dot was right next to his. We talked once before, and that was when he complimented my saxophone. I personally didn't like the thing, but it was an instrument to play on.

Mikey and Frank liked to mess around a lot. I knew Mikey wasn't gay, or I thought he wasn't, but I always had my suspicions that they were a thing. Temporarily letting go of my insecurities, I played on. I had much better things to do than watch them gab.

"State is coming up," Mikey said quietly in the high school's lunch room. We always sat alone together, while the other sections liked to eat in groups. Even Frank didn't bother us during lunch, when I half expected him to.

"I know, Mikey. I'm in the same band as you. I may even pay attention more," I mumbled, taking a bite of the single apple that would last my stomach through out practice later this afternoon.


"Think we're gonna make finals this year?"

"Quarter finals? Maybe."

"C'mon," Mikey said with a mouth full of sandwich bread, "be optimistic."

"How optimistic can I be when all the bands in our class are double in our size?" I shouted, getting a worrisome glance from Frank. He picked up his tray and headed for our table.

"I think I heard some band jargon coming from this way?" Frank asked with a ginormous smile radiating shiny white, perfect teeth. I attempted to hold in a blush.

Frank sat down next to Mikey and pushed his tray away to lean on his elbows. He stared me down.

"Uh- um.. yeah. We're talking about finals," I muttered, finding it hard to look into his eyes. Mikey noticed how uncomfortable I was and plastered on a smile of his own.

"D'you know what else is coming up? Prom," Frank enthused, not looking away from me for one second. "It'll be exciting if at the end of the show someone got asked."

Mikey rolled his eyes as if he knew what was going on. "Don't get your hopes up, Gerard."

I giggled nervously as the lunch bell rang. Frank and I had the next class together, so it was certain he would walk with me. I started feeling a little sick.

"C'ya Gerard," Mikey said as he went the opposite way. I was now stuck with the pretty boy.



Finals were finally here. This was the competition that would put us in the semi-finals, if we could make it. I highly doubted it.

The words that Frank said about prom swirled inside my head, making me ever more nervous. What if he did ask me to prom? How would I react in front of all these people?

The final song arrived. I messed up several times in the last two songs, but I promised myself I would do better this time around. There was no room for worrying about Frank and prom. But the thought of it messed me up several times again.

We were finished and I was out of breath and tired of carrying my sax around. I just wanted to rest, and then it happened. The drum major stated that there will be a last little performance from a snare player. I knew exactly who it was.

Everyone turned to Frank as he set down his snare and walked to the front of the pit. All eyes were on him, and he pulled out a corsage box with someone's name on it, a name who I think I made out as...

"Jenny, I've thought long and hard about this." A few snickers came from the trumpet section, and with the sly smile across Frank's face, he purposely made the innuendo. "Will you go to prom with me?"

The uniformed girl gasped and ran up to Frank, flute still in hand, and hugged him tightly. My heart sank to my stomach, and my stomach sank out of me.

I looked back at Mikey who had a grin on his face. Why couldn't he have told me it wasn't me!

There was always next year, no marching band but prom still lived on.