33. Expectations (Mr. Collins's POV, Hayden's Freshman Year)
I stood at the front of the newly renovated band room, flipping through the Pit and Battery part of the show on the first day of band camp. It was only 7:30 in the morning, and camp was supposed to start in half an hour. But I already heard a car sputtering to a stop in the parking lot. Literally, sputtering, and then what sounded like the car dying.
"Shit!"
"Crap!"
Two voices intermingled in a chorus of shouts and yells and cusses and swears. In an instant, I recognized who the voices were. Hunter, the senior that had been appointed Pit leader by his junior year, was the one who was doing most of the cussing. Hayden, the freshman clarinet section leader and Hunter's girlfriend, was the one yelling loudly but without the vulgarity. Out of all the girls that had ever been in a drumline, she was the most well-mannered, at least when she was in front of adults. I hesitated to hear her whenever she was around the four other mallet players for percussion ensemble.
She was first through the door, and I had to double-take to recognize her. Her usually pale skin was a deep Italian olive shade, her thick-lensed glasses must have been done away with so her near-black eyes shone brightly, the features on her face seemed to have gone pointed and matured, and her hair was now a deep copper and set into gentle corkscrews. She glanced up from her own feet. "Collins!" She yelled out, starting to run across the room and gave me a double high-five. "Hats's car sort of just died in the parking lot. Does your van have jumper cables?"
I thought long and hard. "I don't think… But Scott might have some."
She sighed, long and drawn-out. "I seriously hope. Or I'll have to A. Call my mum or B. Walk home and leave Hats to fend for himself after camp today."
I gave a chuckle. Since almost all of her band friends were on Battery or Pit, she had gained their mentality, but especially Hunter's philosophies. I often heard her walking around saying things like, 'An eye for both of theirs.' or 'Music is like candy bars. Better without the (w)rappers.'
Hunter himself walked through the door as soon as those quotes crossed my mind. He had a very sour look on his face, but brightened slightly as he saw me at the front of the room. "My rotten luck." He muttered. "Of course, my car breaks down. Mine. Always."
"Expectations." Hayden piped up.
"Wait, what?" Hunter turned to face her.
"Expectations." She repeated, grinning. "With a season starting this crappy, you can only expect it to get better."
Damn her. She was always so optimistic. Eh, since nobody else was, she had a reason. And that was the bright spot in our lives. A bright spot by the name of Hayden Jayne Peters.