Perfectly Not Meant to Be
Chapter 1: Freshmen
by itsmariscul
A/N: After a lot of revision, here is what was originally named "Beneath the Shako". I decided to change the title after a sudden inspiration hit me while listening to the Plain White T's (from "All That We Needed"). I appreciate any feedback, ideas, suggestions, etc. than you all can give me. Also, if you spot an mistakes of any sort please let me know! Thank you for reading :)!
I was sitting there waiting for Peter to stop talking about his musical theories. Maria sat next to the right of me, her attention focused solely on the guy sitting at her left named Erick. She had been crushing on him ever since last year but their relationship stayed friendly and both of them refused to make a move even though it was clearly visible that they had something more going on. My mind started to drift along the rest of the chairs as I looked at my new clarinet companions.
There were a staggering total of twenty-two clarinets in our little suburban high school that took little to no interest in the arts and wasted its yearly budget on better equipment for the helpless football team. Freshmen came from either Valley Middle School or Harper Middle School or in the rare occasion, they were out-of-towners. There was a constant animosity between both middle schools over who produced the better players. Valley Middle was naturally known for being the better of the two when it came to music but, Harper produced the valedictorians. I didn't quite seem to fit in either world.
Playing the clarinet had been my greatest dream ever since I could remember. I had wanted to play the clarinet long before I even knew what it was. Once I entered junior high I picked up the wooden instrument and went on a quest to become the greatest clarinetist in the world. Soon though, I realized just how silly I had been and I grew content with just being able to make music with my instrument. As high school neared, I grew interested in marching band and worked hard to rise up steadily and enter with a good position. My band teacher made me section leader during my eighth grade year and now all of sudden I found myself again at the bottom of the food chain. Fresh meat.
"Vivian, who are you starring at?" Maria whispered.
"Huh? What? Oh, no one..." I replied dumbly. My mind was filled with tangled thoughts of nonsense and I longed to be hanging out with my non-band friends at the beach or shopping for my back-to-school wardrobe.
"Alright," said Peter, "let's start the march from the bridge. Vivian and Maria, play out more I can't really hear the third part. Ready? One, two, …" His hands rose and signaled the pick-up note for the first part clarinets. He began to move animatedly his blonde curls bouncing rhythmically. I hesitated before my entrance and then I fell into the rhythm of the song. Peter was the most talented musical prodigy that ever graced the halls of Valley Springs High. Peter could play every brass and woodwind instrument, he was a member of both the Jazz band and Jazz choir, and his schedule consisted of straight Honors and AP classes. He was not only my section leader, he was also my brother.
Suddenly there was a knock on the band room door followed by noises of someone trying to pull open the stubborn piece of wood. One of the upperclassmen clarinet players named Rachel got up from her seat and opened the door for the newcomer.
"Who is it Rachel?" he asked impatiently.
Rachel turned to look at him from the door and shrugged saying, "I don't know. He's a freshman."
"Well, tell him to get in. Quickly!" Peter spat. Rachel returned to her seat followed by a pale and lanky boy whose head was covered in matted black hair. He wore a darkly colored long-sleeve shirt with some preppy brand that had a bird for its logo. The bridge of his nose and his eyes were covered by Calvin Klein glasses and through them shone dark blue eyes—he was utterly lost and confused. I ignored him and resumed to mentally practicing my fingerings while I head Peter say, "Oh, hello David. Steph's brother, right? You're late. Just grab a chair from the storeroom and take a seat," greeted Peter. David? My brother Peter had been dating Stephanie, a junior saxophone player, for almost a year now but I had never heard of her having a younger brother. Then again, I didn't really care much for Peter or his girlfriend anyways. She only dropped by our house every once in a while.
After the newcomer had put his clarinet together and sat down close to the rest of the Valley Middle School students Peter resumed his teaching. I fought the quick tempo and struggled to stay with Peter's hand. Maria started to fall out and I played out louder remembering Peter's earlier comment. As we played through the rest of the song I let my mind resume to its nonsensical-thinking.
Our summer practices were pretty much the same every day. As freshmen, we were constantly being pounded to exceed our mental and physical limitations often ending in a shattered mess when we got home. The blazing heat of the summer didn't help and it left our skins in darker shades than we had started off with. It also didn't help that I, as the lousy player that I was turning out to be, was constantly picked on for my inability to play anything right. My ambiture was wrong. My posture was bad. My playing was horrific. Thank goodness I hadn't started marching yet. Not to mention, people expected a lot out of me thanks to my brilliant brother.
Most of the freshmen were from Valley Middle School, Harper Middle's cross-town rivals. Musicianship ability clearly belonged to Valley Middle while Harper held all the cards in the other arts and academics. I tried to brush off all snickers and comments that were made behind my back but it was all to no avail. I was clearly missing Peter's musical gene. And so, that is how I spent my entire summer--being chastised by my genius brother in front of my soon-to-be classmates inside a stuffy band room on the second floor of the Valley Springs High School stadium.
"So have you memorized the first movement yet?" Maria asked after sectionals as I walked her to the bus stop. We had recently become close friends due to the continuous summer band practices.
"Yeah, part of it at least. The beginning is just half notes and full notes but Peter says I have to improve my tone quality. He also said we'd be doing a lot more practicing at home," I said calmly as I swung my clarinet case and starred down at the floor beneath me trying to remember Peter's exact words. I wasn't functioning properly today.
"Don't let him get you down. You are a good player Viv, your section leader status from last year proves it, just do what you have to do," Maria said reassuringly.
"Sure. I'll keep trying, don't worry. Peter just really gets on my nerves sometimes. I don't know what I would do without you. Thanks Maria," I responded. This was going to be a tough year. It was nice to know that Maria was there for me. Hopefully I'd make more friends like her as the year progressed. Band seemed to eat up all of my time though.
"That's the Vivian I know. I thought marching band was going to be hard but it's actually kind of cool, don't you think?" she said lightly now. Maria wasn't a person to lag on somber subjects for too long.
"Uh-huh. Whatever," I disagreed completely but I wasn't up for arguing. We were slowly reaching the bus stop where Maria waited and our pace slowed down gradually.
"Okay, well get some rest. Try not to practice too much. See you tomorrow morning girl," Maria walked up to me and gave me a soft hug.
"Bye. See you tomorrow. Take care." I returned the warm hug by instinct and watched her walk off.
"Love you! Bye!" she yelled and turned to give a little wave. I smiled and then turned around to head back home. Maria and I were practically inseparable now after so many long days spent together in the overcrowded band room. Even when there was no practice, we usually felt the need to go out and a catch a movie or maybe even do some shopping. Sometimes we spent entire nights texting or talking to one another until sunrise. The more time I spent in band the closer I got to Maria.
That afternoon I got home and fell into a deep sleep only to be woken up by my mother's voice calling me for dinner. I rushed out of my bedroom in a groggy state and started setting up the table alongside my brother. My parents weren't really the kind of parents that cared about what their children were up to. They simply made sure that we go to and from school and never really worried about what we did outside of that. Unless of course, we brought home bad grades. It was a silent contract: bring home straight A's and it's good, bring home a C and your disinherited. To outside spectators it seemed unfair, but to me and my brother it had simply become a way of life. Lately, however, I had found it more and more difficult to keep up with all their expectations. My brother was a living prodigy and I was beggar in comparison.
"Vivian, after dinner we're going to run over the entire show by memory," said Peter out of nowhere as I sat at the table poking at my spinach.
"Fine," I murmured unenthusiastically.
"I wish you would make a greater effort to improve Vivian. Do you have any idea what the rest of the section thinks about you?" He sat glaring at me with his brown eyes from across our eight-chair dinner table. My parents sat on one end and talked amongst themselves while Peter and I sat on the other end ignoring one another, for the most part.
"Whatever," I responded and got up impatiently. I began picking up my dishes and heading towards the kitchen. My parents turned slightly in our direction to see what our argument was about but then quickly resumed their conversation.
"Vivian, we start marching next week and I can't afford to have weak players in my section. Either you learn your part or become an alternate. Vivian, are you listening to me?" he said angrily.
"No," I responded, "I'm going out for a walk. I can practice later." I headed into the kitchen and threw my dishes into the sink and then started for the door.
"Where are you going? I'm talking to you Vivian," Peter called.
He had gotten up from the table and was standing at the kitchen door but I was already at the front gate of the house and I really didn't think he would dare to chase after me. I unclasped the latch of the black metal gate that surrounded my house and headed out into the street.
A/N: First chapter, finished! What do you all think? I have no set schedule for updates but expect the next chapter up in a week or less. Thanks again for reading!
~itsmariscul