Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! I reached my hand out from under the covers and slapped my alarm clock. The monotonous drone of the clock subsided and I looked at the time; five-thirty in the morning. Way too early if you ask me. Slowly I got up and grabbed my clothes heading towards the bathroom I shared with my sister, Leah. She was three years younger than me and already had a multitude of admirers. Leah said band was for losers who would never get anywhere in life. Whenever she brought this up, we got into a fight. I don't think she'll ever understand.
The cool water of the shower woke me up. My mind was racing and my stomach was in knots. Today was the first day of band camp. I was excited to be marching again, but meeting new people and making new friends was not my forte. I had spent my whole life in Kirby. The Kirby Crusades were my family and now I was being torn away. We had moved to Riverton at the beginning of the summer. Our house was white with bright red shutters. The front was hidden by a giant oak tree, that had just started to die. My room was decent; it was painted a light purple and had a window seat. The bathroom that separated my and Leah's bedroom was covered in fish wallpaper. Whenever I went in there it felt as if they were staring me down.
Stepping out of the shower, I quickly got ready and headed downstairs. For breakfast I grabbed a piece of bread and popped it into the toaster. Looking around I noticed a piece of paper on the table. "Amy," it read," have a great day! I know you will do great. Just remember to keep your head up and don't be too hard on yourself. Love, Mom" Her note helped, but only a little. This wasn't going to be a great day, more like horrible.
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There were too many people. Over one hundred kids scattered throughout the parking lot. Okay the voice inside my head said you can do this. Just act like you don't care. Yeah, easy for you to say Voice, you aren't the one who has to make new friends. Oh man, this is bad. I'm having arguments with myself. Taking another deep breath I looked. Over by a blue Toyota some flute players were gathered, further down I saw a group of guts with trumpets talking. In the car next to me I saw a guy with black hair. He looked like he was about to fall asleep.
Realizing it was about time to go, I grabbed my trumpet case and started towards the school. Black-haired guy was also getting out of his car. He looked over at me and smiled. "Hey you're new, right? I laughed, was it that obvious? "Yeah, I am. My name's Amy." He was still smiling. "I'm Greg. I play the saxophone." "Saxophone? I play the trumpet." My head was spinning. I hadn't talked to anyone new in almost six years. This was definitely going to be a long day.
Well, the band director seemed nice. His name was Mr. Port. His hairline was receding and he walked like a duck, but he was funny. I was scared to death to go into that band room and he made it a little bit easier. I was walking into the school with Greg, who already told me his favorite color, his favorite movie and why he decided to play the saxophone. I could tell already that he loved to talk.
"Hey Greg. Glad to see you this year." We had stopped in front of the band room where Mr. Port was trying got open the door. "I told you Mr. Port, marching band is my life. Of course I came back." Mr. Port smiled then looked over at me. "Hello there! Who are you?"
"I'm Amy, the new student. I sent you an e-mail" "Oh yes," he smiled, "you're a trumpet player. A junior." I nodded my head and surveyed the area. Suddenly, my heart skipped a beat. Over by the water fountain was a guy. His hair was a golden brown, his skin was well tanned. He wasn't just any guy, he seemed to radiate confidence. When he turned and looked over at me time seemed to slow down. Oh no, I thought, here's one of those cheesy moments you swore never to have. Then he came over to us. I can bet you that my mouth was hanging open like an idiot.
"Hey Mason!" Greg called out. The guy, Mason, smiled at us. "Hey there Mr. Port, Greg, and um… who's this?" I could hear my heart in my ears. It sounded like it was about to burst. "This is Amy, she's new here." I silently thanked Greg for saving me. Mason held his hand out. "I'm Mason Kenney, trumpet player and drum major." I slowly reached my hand up to shake his hand. "Amy," I murmured. "I play trumpet, too."
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"No, no! Do it again" We were trying to warm up together, but we weren't balanced. I looked down the aisle and saw Mason. He was sitting up, looking straight ahead. He was ready to play. To my left was a guy with short brown hair, he told me his name was Michael. On my right side was a freshman, a newbie. He looked like he was about to throw up. Just wait, I thought, it will only get worse.