Read Online Notes From An Accidental Band Geek by Erin Dionne - Free Book Online Page A

very quietly, as though he was afraid I would knock his words back in his face with my fist. Which, given the circumstances, if I could have, I would have.
    “Elsie . . . really, it’ll be good,” Jake said. “We need you to make the costume work.”
    “Then maybe you should go as the Three Musketeers,” I snapped. The bell rang, cutting off any reply. I gathered my books and stood.
    Sarah had this exasperated, helpless expression on her face. “Elsie, it’s not that big a deal!” she cried.
    “Whatever,” I said. I didn’t bother waiting for them, I just stalked out of the lunchroom.
    Inside, I was churning. I didn’t want to be seen like Miss Piggy—bossy and rude and self-centered. Even if it was just a stupid Halloween costume. Why couldn’t they have all been in agreement that I was the perfect Rowlf the dog? Comments about beauty aside, Rowlf was at least a musician.
    I slammed into my seat a couple of minutes before the tardy bell and waited for Hector and Sarah. They came in wearing identical frowns, hurt emanating from them in waves.
    “We didn’t mean anything by it,” Hector said, leaning across the aisle. “It was a lame idea.” Sarah nodded, but didn’t say anything, just watched me with a neutral expression.
    There was something about her face that made me realize how stupid I was being, getting so twisted over it. It was just a Halloween costume.
    “No, it’s okay,” I said, relenting. “I’ll do it.”
    Hector’s eyes lit up, but Sarah’s stayed calm, like she was waiting to react based on what I said next.
    “Really?” Hector squeaked.
    I nodded. “Yeah. It’s a good idea, and I don’t want to wreck it.” And wrecking it could mean eating lunch with my horn—which, I was surprised to find out, didn’t hold much appeal anymore—instead of in the caf.
    Some warmth crept back into Sarah’s eyes.
    “Cool,” she said, and nodded like she was over the whole thing. The bell rang, and Mr. O’Malley started taking attendance. He told us to review the homework questions with a partner or small group. Sarah bent to get her work out, the delicate ends of her scarf falling into her bag. It gave me an idea.
    “Maybe you can help me with my costume?” I asked, shy.
    “Sure,” Sarah said, voice warmer. “I’ll talk to my mom. You can probably come over on our next non-band weekend.”
    Hector cleared his throat. “I think we’ll all need help,” he said.
    Sarah nodded. “No problem. I’ll get supplies—”
    “If I don’t hear cellular structure talk coming from every group, there’ll be a pop quiz,” Mr. O’Malley called. “And I guarantee you it won’t be multiple choice.”
    We were all business after that. Inside, I knew I’d dodged more than a test, though.
     
     
     
    That afternoon, tired and drained, I could barely focus on my private horn lesson. Mr. Rinaldi had to stop me twice for silly mistakes, something he’d rarely had to do in the three years I’d been working with him.
    “Where’s my star player today?” he asked, peering at me over the tops of his glasses, bushy eyebrows raised in a question mark.
    I shook my head, feeling more like a chicken than a star, and settled my horn in my lap. “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “Just tired.” I yawned.
    “Well,” he said with a smile, “let’s try something peppier, to wake you up.” He paged through the sheet music on the stand and found a light duet that was not part of my audition packet.
    “But that’s not for Shining Birches,” I protested.
    “Just because it’s not one of your audition pieces doesn’t mean we can’t play it,” he responded. “As a matter of fact, playing something with no ties to the audition is probably a good idea. It’ll clear your head.” He tapped his foot to set the tempo of the piece.
    With everything that had been going on lately—learning the mellophone and marching band, worrying about Shining Birches, settling into high school classes, and maybe