((A/n's:
Chap-to tell you the truth, our band camp is one week. One week of torture
and torment, of course. I'm not making that up, that's how it is in our
high school. And the reason I was dying after the 200 drop spins is because
this was my second year, and not even that because the year before I hardly
did any guard work and stayed up front the whole time ("Behind the Front
Sideline" is that story) and therefore wasn't used to it.
Also, to remember, this whole story is based on actual events that have happened. All the people in this story are based on real people. So that guard guy who is always late is a real person, and he's been in our guard for three years. . . and has been late every year. If you know this person, (as Julia does) you'll know that there hasn't been a single practice in which he was on time. So this story is just a fictionalized version of real events.
Glad you liked the Les Mis references. . . I saw that play recently and it was really good, and seeing as I've been listening to the soundtrack almost nonstop those songs are continually stuck in my head. It's a good play. So is "Phantom of the Opera", if you've ever seen that, too. If you haven't, you should. If you have, wasn't it fantastic?
Alright, enough of that. Let me continue this story now))
Every year, the guard has an annual guard sleepover. Last year Julia and I didn't stay for the whole thing, because Nelly's birthday was on the same night and we were obliged to go to that. This year, however, we did stay for the whole thing.
It was very fun. We did all sorts of insane things (of course, seeing as we are a colorguard and therefore do many insane things). Among those things was something called "the question game." It is a guard tradition, in which each guard members writes down a question they would like the rest of the guard to answer. Then they put all the questions in a hat, and we all answer them when pulled out. One of the questions this year was, "If you could go out with anyone in band, who would you go out with?" Typical question.
It all went around. Cara already had a boyfriend, so she was passed. Julia just agreed with what everyone else said. Finally, they came to me, and all looked expectant. "Well?" Cara said impatiently.
"I guess I'll go with the same as Julia," I answered instantly. Me and Julia usually made our answers the same, due to the fact that we were practically the youngest in the guard and stuck together. "And say Morgan (he was a drummer) and Robert." I shrugged.
Suddenly, Jocelyn lit up. "Jeff!" She exclaimed.
We all turned to look at her. "What?" I replied.
"Jeff!" Jocelyn repeated. "You'll go out with Jeff! I mean, it's so obvious you like each other."
"Yeah, Jeff!" Cara agreed, nodding vigorously. "He's ~always~ flirting with you. You'll go out someday."
This was quickly agreed with by Kat and Maggie. The four of them seemed determined to say that I would be going out with Jeff.
"Ew, god no!" I exclaimed. "We're friends! Really!"
Of course, being that they are colorguard, none of them believed me.
But it was true! As much as ~they~ denied it, it was true. Jeff and I were friends, and had been since the 8th grade semi-formal last year. I couldn't look at him as anything more than a friend. He was one of my chaps, someone I could be goofy around and he would not care. But a boyfriend? Jeff? Ugh! Just the thought of it! We slow danced, yes, but that was mainly because my friend Adi pestered us until we did. "You were a good dancer," He told me. But that, I assumed, was just because I had been doing ballet for some years now and was fairly good on my feet.
But boyfriend? No!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Dismissed," Said Mr. P, waving us all out.
Aside from being in marching band, I was also in regular band (concert band) fifth period. It was very useful having band fifth because I usually was able to grab the marching band schedule and show it to Julia at lunch.
I took my oboe apart (yes, I played the oboe. That was one of the reasons I was in colorguard, because I could not march with my oboe) and stuffed it in the case. I put my oboe away in the shelf and left the band room, listening while Squeak chattered something in my ear.
"Excuse me," I told her, ducking into the bathroom near the cafeteria. "See ya later." Replied Squeak.
I sighed, leaning against the bathroom wall for a second. What a day today was. I hadn't done so good on my math test, and found out that we were going to be starting an essay in English. Not to mention for my life I couldn't play a new piece of music we had gotten in concert band. And above all, there was marching band practice today.
I waited until the bell rang (to make sure Squeak was gone) before I put my sweater on. It had gotten chillier today that I thought. Cold, I stuffed my hands into my pockets. . .
And felt an odd piece of paper in my left pocket. Huh? What was that? Confused, I took the paper out. ~Probably a marching band schedule I took and forgot about,~ I thought. ~Or a homeroom notice.~ I usually stuffed those in my pockets and forgot about it.
I took the note out, and realized it was neither of those. It was regular white lined paper, with the name "Christy" written on it. Christy! My most hated nickname! Who, besides Nelly, called me that?
Confused, I unfolded the paper. It was a note, scribbled hastily in messy handwriting-obviously a boy's, seeing as no girl had handwriting like that. "Christine-" The first line read. It was. . . a poem?! I read on. . .
The last line of the poem read,
"I know a girl Who likes music and marching band Almost as much as I like her." -Guess Who
GUESS WHO?!
Immediately, my mind exploded in thousands of thoughts, and thousands of emotions. Guess Who?!?! Who the heck did I think it was? The answer slapped me hard in the face like a wet fish-Jeff. It couldn't be anyone else. Why else would Jeff flick my earring (more ear than earring) and point at me and say "ooh pretty" and stare at me during marching band practice?
I continued leaning against the wall, trying to gather my thoughts. Strangely enough, my first thought was, ~Hey, how'd he get that note into my sweater?~ (but I knew it was because I left my sweater on my bookbag yesterday, and since the band always comes back from practice before the guard does, he must have had his chance then). But. . . Jeff!
Now my mind launched into confusion. Jeff? But he was my friend! My friend, and nothing more! And here he was writing poetry, admitting he liked me. What the heck was I going to say? I certainly didn't like ~him~ the same way. Not a chance! I'd never felt anything while looking at him, other than comradeship. What was I going to tell him? How was I to respond? What to do when I saw him in person, at lunchtime and English class as usual? Ignore it? Reply? If so, what? My mind was too many questions. . . too much confusion. That was the main emotion warring within me. . confusion.
The second was. . . I don't know. Admiration, perhaps? Flattery, maybe. I was flattered that a guy would think that of me (even though my hair wasn't "flowing golden brown" as one of the lines had read. . . it was more like messy dark blonde), and write such a piece of (corny) poetry.
But that didn't last long. Another emotion. . . anger. Yes, anger. This note admitted his feelings for me. If I didn't respond the same, it could ruin our friendship forever. And I didn't want a friendship like that to be ruined, not over one stupid note! One stupid crush! Crushes could be gotten over! I felt angry at him for writing this to me. I was not a lovey person. In fact, the only time I felt romance was interesting was when it was in the dramatic context of a play or a movie or a book. Other than that, I was not a romantic person! ~Especially~ not corny poetry. Corny poetry was one of the things I hated.
The bell rang again, and I realized that I had better get to lunch before the evil aides gave me a glare because I was late. Sighing in frustration, confusion and anger, I left the bathroom.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
English came. And Jeff didn't seem to have changed anything. In fact, I don't think he knew I had gotten this note. I came in and sat down and opened a book (as I usually do before English starts), when Jeff came over. "Stop reading!" He said. He didn't seem to like it that I read a lot. "I like this book," I replied uneasily. The teacher came in then (thankfully) and Jeff left with his departing words being, "Check your pockets."
It was the same at band practice. Diana's sarcasm and snapping words was far away from me today, I felt as if I could not even hear them. My mind was far away in its own world of confusion. And I decided I really didn't like this confusion.
As I waited out by my tree for my dad to pick me up after practice, Jeff came up. "Hi, Christy." He said.
"It's Christine, and don't you forget it." I answered automatically, closing my eyes against the tree and trying to block Jeff's voice out of my mind. If I was to sort out my confusion, it didn't help to have the source of it standing right next to me talking.
"Did you get my note?" He asked.
Greaaaat. Lovely. The note.
"Yeah." I replied-such a brilliant response, 'yeah'. So descriptive. So. . . sounding like one in the state of confusion.
"Did ya like it?"
"Guess so." My, was I good today.
"Want me to write another one?" His voice was hopeful.
Ugh, no. Not in a million years. ~I'd rather have Diana rip off my head and throw it into an orchestra pit,~I found myself thinking. But that was a bad thought and I quickly shoved it out of my head. ~Be nice!~ I ordered myself. ~Be nice and act friendly. That's all you can do right now.~
"If you want." Yep, that's what I said.
"Okay!" And with that, Jeff turned and bounced away.
I realize now if I had told him then and there I didn't want him as a boyfriend, it would have allayed a lot more confusion and gotten rid of a lot of problems soon to arise. But at this point, I wasn't concerned about that. . . and my 'if you want' became the very object of the turn of events in the next few days.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The next morning, I drew my coat tight around me and climbed up the steps into the high school. My friend Adi was there waiting. I went to my locker, and then me and Adi went back down to stay on the steps until the bell rang, as we did every morning.
Adi and I chatted about all sorts of really random things as we usually did. The bell rang all too quickly, and we reluctantly went inside. Where on the way to my gym class (Adi would walk there with me, and then leave to go to her own class) we were intercepted by who else but Jeff.
"Hi guys!" He said, over-brightly. In his hand was clutched a piece of paper. "What's that?" Inquired Adi, pointing to the paper. Adi being a hopeless romantic (and a keen observer) was bound to notice this.
"Nothin'." Replied Jeff.
"Lemme see!" Adi pried the note out of his hands. Jeff mumbled something to her and then ran on ahead. "Ooh, it's. . ." She looked at it. "Christy," She read. "It's for you." She handed the note to me.
I groaned. "Great." I said.
"What?"
"Another corny note." I hadn't told Adi about the previous note.
"You'll tell me after school?" She inquired, now wanting to know about this whole note-business I had glanced over.
"Sure." I replied with a sigh, turning and trudging into gym class.
When I got to my gym locker, I sat down and read the note fully.
"And we talk on the phone, late at night About weird and random things And she tells me about her musicals And I tell her about my school And each night when we hang up I wonder. Will she go to homecoming with me?" -So, will you go out with me? Jeff
Yes, that was the last few lines of the note.
Thankfully I had been sitting down already. Because if I wasn't, I know I would have needed to.
Will you go out with me??? To homecoming???? THIS was what he wanted? He wanted me to GO OUT with him? To HOMECOMING which was like in two days?? This Saturday? And I couldn't use marching band as an excuse because he was in it too and. . . and. . .
If you asked me about that gym class, I could not recall a bit of it. All I remember was my whirling mind of confusion and bewilderment, with "Javert's Suicide" from Les Mis running through my head (well, that was because I was listening to my soundtrack and that was the last song that played. And some of the words were aptly suited to my situation. . . ". . . and must I now begin to doubt/who never doubted all these years?" I had wanted a boyfriend for so many years, and now the time had arrived. . . and I was doubting!).
As soon as the class ended, I changed and ran outside, unfolding the note and glancing at the words once more. They struck deeper into my roiling confusion, into my bewildered mind. Jeff had handed it to me (well, to Adi, and he had seen Adi give it to me) so there was no way I could avoid getting it and say I hadn't received it. I had to face him! Oh, why??
The rest of the day was filled with torment. Squeak got a hold of the note, and naturally her response was to tell me repeatedly that I should go out with him because the note was 'so very sweet.' But I didn't want to go out with him! I couldn't see doing any of that boyfriend-y stuff with Jeff. He wasn't the boyfriend-y type!
Not to mention, I suddenly saw things differently. Ever since 7th grade, I longed to have a boyfriend so I could fit in, so I could be like everyone else. The idea was so fascinating and appealed to me so. And now that time was upon me. I had been asked out by a boy, just like I had wanted! And. . . why did I deny? Why did I shy away from the idea as if it was disgusting cafeteria food I hated? Why did all of a sudden the idea of having a boyfriend lost all its appeal? Could it be the fact that this was ~Jeff~ asking me out? Oh, why all these infernal questions! "And my thoughts fly apart. . ." Another lyric of the same song well-suited to the day.
Me and Jeff's friendship was strained for the rest of the day. I couldn't look him in the eye all through English (though I could tell he was looking at me. . . looking at me very intently), and for the first time this year he did not come to the lunch table I sat.
Marching band practice was even worse. I was continually forced to evade his gaze, and for some *ironic* reason, almost every single one of the drill spots we practiced ~had~ to bring Jeff and I close.
"Christine! Chriiiiis. . ." I heard his voice hiss to me during Tony's solo up front. I turned my face away, pretending to be immensely fascinated with Tony's solo, even though I had heard him play it nearly every day since band camp. During the middle of our show, Tony got up to play a solo on his trumpet. And the place where Tony stood was in the opposite direction of Jeff, so I could easily avoid Jeff's glances.
But either way, I was tired of this now. Tired of his stares, of his corny notes, of his "romantics" if you could even call it that. I had to stop it! I had to somehow tell him I ~didn't~ want to go out with him.
But how could I, the shy colorguard member who never said anything, talk to a ~boy~ like this?
The lyrics returned once again. "Who is this man, what sort of devil is he, to have me caught in a trap. . ."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The phone rang that night. "Christine?"
"What?"
"It's Jeff."
"What do you want?"
"To ask you a question."
"Ask away."
I really didn't care right now. I was swamped with math homework, which did not help my confusion.
"You know, the homecoming dance and all. . . going with me. . ."
Great. Now that he was asking formally, what could I do? If I said no, well, the poor chap would be heartbroken. But I did not, and I repeat did not, want to go with HIM. My mind whirled quickly, trying to formulate a good response to this, while still sounding logical. . .
"Can't." Oh, that was fantastic.
Jeff's voice replied, "Why not?"
Why not? Let's see. . . I didn't want to, or I couldn't. . .aha!
"My parents." I replied. "You see, my parents think I'm too young to be going to homecoming, so they are making me wait until I am 16. Sorry, I'd like to go, but my parent's won't let me go."
I relaxed. That was brilliant! Fantastic! How could I forget the old "my- parents-won't-let-me" ploy?
"Oh. Well, that sucks." Replied Jeff.
"Yes." I answered, feeling much more relaxed. Now we could talk as friends again. Now I didn't have to worry. Right?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
We had a football game the next day. I talked with Jeff, feeling glad that I had told him I couldn't go and he wouldn't be asking me anymore. Also, one of his friends was there, and therefore he couldn't really do anything. So I was relaxed. . . for most of the day.
Diana had called an extended practice. After the game was over, the guard would stay an extra hour to learn some new things. Our show wasn't complete. . . and we really needed it to be.
From the moment we reached the stands at the beginning of the game, I saw Jeff's eyes on me. I ignored it-after all, he liked me, and I'm guessing you do look at people you like.
Or it could be the fact that I was in my colorguard uniform, which was very. . . erm. . . form-fitting, shall we say. It was a rather tight body suit. That could be why he was looking at me.
But seeing as it was Jeff, that was absolutely disgusting. His eyes were straying up and down my suit, and the way he spoke to me wasn't friendly, but. . . ~friendly.~
Then, at the end of the game when I was engaged in a deep conversation with the rest of the guard about who the "Super Twins" were ("They had these rings!" Christian said. "And they'd turn into stuff!"), when Jeff came over and dropped next to me.
"Whatcha talkin about?" He asked, leaning his head on his hands and staring.
"Guard stuff." Came my reply. What is it with me and non intelligent replies?
"Oh okay. Well, here's something for ya." He stuffed another note in my hand, making sure to touch my hand while he was at it.
I groaned. Diana waved us over, calling us into our extra practice. The band went down and left, and I trotted over with the rest of the guard, unfolding the note.
Julia peered over my shoulder. I had told her of these incidents the day before, and she was rather curious.
"Gorgeous in her uniform. . . of black, silver, and white. . ."
"Oh shoot me." I muttered.
The entire corny poem was a lavishly written description of how I do colorguard in my uniform. It was quite embarrassing, really. Julia was snickering under her breath at it. Sighing, I stuffed the note into my bag, but not in time for Kat to not see.
"Love notes from Jeff?" Kat said wickedly, grinning.
"Yes, actually!" Was my reply.
I would have said more, except Diana started the extra practice then. And I stood there, doing my colorguard, quite confused.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Jeff called me later that night. We actually had. . . gasp. . . a normal conversation. We chatted about the usual weird things, just as always.
But how long did ~that~ last? Not long at all.
"It sucks still that you can't go to homecoming." Jeff brought up. . . yet again.
"Mmm." I replied, going into my "great, now I have to avoid talking about this again" mode.
"Are you going to be at the competition tomorrow?" He asked. Tomorrow we had our regional competition.
"No, I'm going to skip it, and then Diana will seek me out and chop off my head in the middle of the night and put it on a pole outside the band room as an example of what happens when you skip competitions to the others." I replied sarcastically.
"So you're going?"
"Duh."
"Great." Jeff said, his voice brightening slightly (him thinking I didn't notice). "So I can flirt with you the entire time."
"Mmm." I replied, though I was secretly thinking that I'd like to have Inspector Javert from Les Miserables come in and beat him with that stick thing he always carried in the play, and then chuck him off the barricade.
"So, I'll see you tomorrow?" He asked.
"Unless you're wearing a blindfold." I replied. He completely missed my sarcasm, and said, "Bye!" Overly bright and hung up.
~Oh god,~ I thought as soon as he hung up, leaving me looking at the phone in my lap. ~What have I gotten myself into?~
Also, to remember, this whole story is based on actual events that have happened. All the people in this story are based on real people. So that guard guy who is always late is a real person, and he's been in our guard for three years. . . and has been late every year. If you know this person, (as Julia does) you'll know that there hasn't been a single practice in which he was on time. So this story is just a fictionalized version of real events.
Glad you liked the Les Mis references. . . I saw that play recently and it was really good, and seeing as I've been listening to the soundtrack almost nonstop those songs are continually stuck in my head. It's a good play. So is "Phantom of the Opera", if you've ever seen that, too. If you haven't, you should. If you have, wasn't it fantastic?
Alright, enough of that. Let me continue this story now))
Every year, the guard has an annual guard sleepover. Last year Julia and I didn't stay for the whole thing, because Nelly's birthday was on the same night and we were obliged to go to that. This year, however, we did stay for the whole thing.
It was very fun. We did all sorts of insane things (of course, seeing as we are a colorguard and therefore do many insane things). Among those things was something called "the question game." It is a guard tradition, in which each guard members writes down a question they would like the rest of the guard to answer. Then they put all the questions in a hat, and we all answer them when pulled out. One of the questions this year was, "If you could go out with anyone in band, who would you go out with?" Typical question.
It all went around. Cara already had a boyfriend, so she was passed. Julia just agreed with what everyone else said. Finally, they came to me, and all looked expectant. "Well?" Cara said impatiently.
"I guess I'll go with the same as Julia," I answered instantly. Me and Julia usually made our answers the same, due to the fact that we were practically the youngest in the guard and stuck together. "And say Morgan (he was a drummer) and Robert." I shrugged.
Suddenly, Jocelyn lit up. "Jeff!" She exclaimed.
We all turned to look at her. "What?" I replied.
"Jeff!" Jocelyn repeated. "You'll go out with Jeff! I mean, it's so obvious you like each other."
"Yeah, Jeff!" Cara agreed, nodding vigorously. "He's ~always~ flirting with you. You'll go out someday."
This was quickly agreed with by Kat and Maggie. The four of them seemed determined to say that I would be going out with Jeff.
"Ew, god no!" I exclaimed. "We're friends! Really!"
Of course, being that they are colorguard, none of them believed me.
But it was true! As much as ~they~ denied it, it was true. Jeff and I were friends, and had been since the 8th grade semi-formal last year. I couldn't look at him as anything more than a friend. He was one of my chaps, someone I could be goofy around and he would not care. But a boyfriend? Jeff? Ugh! Just the thought of it! We slow danced, yes, but that was mainly because my friend Adi pestered us until we did. "You were a good dancer," He told me. But that, I assumed, was just because I had been doing ballet for some years now and was fairly good on my feet.
But boyfriend? No!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Dismissed," Said Mr. P, waving us all out.
Aside from being in marching band, I was also in regular band (concert band) fifth period. It was very useful having band fifth because I usually was able to grab the marching band schedule and show it to Julia at lunch.
I took my oboe apart (yes, I played the oboe. That was one of the reasons I was in colorguard, because I could not march with my oboe) and stuffed it in the case. I put my oboe away in the shelf and left the band room, listening while Squeak chattered something in my ear.
"Excuse me," I told her, ducking into the bathroom near the cafeteria. "See ya later." Replied Squeak.
I sighed, leaning against the bathroom wall for a second. What a day today was. I hadn't done so good on my math test, and found out that we were going to be starting an essay in English. Not to mention for my life I couldn't play a new piece of music we had gotten in concert band. And above all, there was marching band practice today.
I waited until the bell rang (to make sure Squeak was gone) before I put my sweater on. It had gotten chillier today that I thought. Cold, I stuffed my hands into my pockets. . .
And felt an odd piece of paper in my left pocket. Huh? What was that? Confused, I took the paper out. ~Probably a marching band schedule I took and forgot about,~ I thought. ~Or a homeroom notice.~ I usually stuffed those in my pockets and forgot about it.
I took the note out, and realized it was neither of those. It was regular white lined paper, with the name "Christy" written on it. Christy! My most hated nickname! Who, besides Nelly, called me that?
Confused, I unfolded the paper. It was a note, scribbled hastily in messy handwriting-obviously a boy's, seeing as no girl had handwriting like that. "Christine-" The first line read. It was. . . a poem?! I read on. . .
The last line of the poem read,
"I know a girl Who likes music and marching band Almost as much as I like her." -Guess Who
GUESS WHO?!
Immediately, my mind exploded in thousands of thoughts, and thousands of emotions. Guess Who?!?! Who the heck did I think it was? The answer slapped me hard in the face like a wet fish-Jeff. It couldn't be anyone else. Why else would Jeff flick my earring (more ear than earring) and point at me and say "ooh pretty" and stare at me during marching band practice?
I continued leaning against the wall, trying to gather my thoughts. Strangely enough, my first thought was, ~Hey, how'd he get that note into my sweater?~ (but I knew it was because I left my sweater on my bookbag yesterday, and since the band always comes back from practice before the guard does, he must have had his chance then). But. . . Jeff!
Now my mind launched into confusion. Jeff? But he was my friend! My friend, and nothing more! And here he was writing poetry, admitting he liked me. What the heck was I going to say? I certainly didn't like ~him~ the same way. Not a chance! I'd never felt anything while looking at him, other than comradeship. What was I going to tell him? How was I to respond? What to do when I saw him in person, at lunchtime and English class as usual? Ignore it? Reply? If so, what? My mind was too many questions. . . too much confusion. That was the main emotion warring within me. . confusion.
The second was. . . I don't know. Admiration, perhaps? Flattery, maybe. I was flattered that a guy would think that of me (even though my hair wasn't "flowing golden brown" as one of the lines had read. . . it was more like messy dark blonde), and write such a piece of (corny) poetry.
But that didn't last long. Another emotion. . . anger. Yes, anger. This note admitted his feelings for me. If I didn't respond the same, it could ruin our friendship forever. And I didn't want a friendship like that to be ruined, not over one stupid note! One stupid crush! Crushes could be gotten over! I felt angry at him for writing this to me. I was not a lovey person. In fact, the only time I felt romance was interesting was when it was in the dramatic context of a play or a movie or a book. Other than that, I was not a romantic person! ~Especially~ not corny poetry. Corny poetry was one of the things I hated.
The bell rang again, and I realized that I had better get to lunch before the evil aides gave me a glare because I was late. Sighing in frustration, confusion and anger, I left the bathroom.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
English came. And Jeff didn't seem to have changed anything. In fact, I don't think he knew I had gotten this note. I came in and sat down and opened a book (as I usually do before English starts), when Jeff came over. "Stop reading!" He said. He didn't seem to like it that I read a lot. "I like this book," I replied uneasily. The teacher came in then (thankfully) and Jeff left with his departing words being, "Check your pockets."
It was the same at band practice. Diana's sarcasm and snapping words was far away from me today, I felt as if I could not even hear them. My mind was far away in its own world of confusion. And I decided I really didn't like this confusion.
As I waited out by my tree for my dad to pick me up after practice, Jeff came up. "Hi, Christy." He said.
"It's Christine, and don't you forget it." I answered automatically, closing my eyes against the tree and trying to block Jeff's voice out of my mind. If I was to sort out my confusion, it didn't help to have the source of it standing right next to me talking.
"Did you get my note?" He asked.
Greaaaat. Lovely. The note.
"Yeah." I replied-such a brilliant response, 'yeah'. So descriptive. So. . . sounding like one in the state of confusion.
"Did ya like it?"
"Guess so." My, was I good today.
"Want me to write another one?" His voice was hopeful.
Ugh, no. Not in a million years. ~I'd rather have Diana rip off my head and throw it into an orchestra pit,~I found myself thinking. But that was a bad thought and I quickly shoved it out of my head. ~Be nice!~ I ordered myself. ~Be nice and act friendly. That's all you can do right now.~
"If you want." Yep, that's what I said.
"Okay!" And with that, Jeff turned and bounced away.
I realize now if I had told him then and there I didn't want him as a boyfriend, it would have allayed a lot more confusion and gotten rid of a lot of problems soon to arise. But at this point, I wasn't concerned about that. . . and my 'if you want' became the very object of the turn of events in the next few days.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The next morning, I drew my coat tight around me and climbed up the steps into the high school. My friend Adi was there waiting. I went to my locker, and then me and Adi went back down to stay on the steps until the bell rang, as we did every morning.
Adi and I chatted about all sorts of really random things as we usually did. The bell rang all too quickly, and we reluctantly went inside. Where on the way to my gym class (Adi would walk there with me, and then leave to go to her own class) we were intercepted by who else but Jeff.
"Hi guys!" He said, over-brightly. In his hand was clutched a piece of paper. "What's that?" Inquired Adi, pointing to the paper. Adi being a hopeless romantic (and a keen observer) was bound to notice this.
"Nothin'." Replied Jeff.
"Lemme see!" Adi pried the note out of his hands. Jeff mumbled something to her and then ran on ahead. "Ooh, it's. . ." She looked at it. "Christy," She read. "It's for you." She handed the note to me.
I groaned. "Great." I said.
"What?"
"Another corny note." I hadn't told Adi about the previous note.
"You'll tell me after school?" She inquired, now wanting to know about this whole note-business I had glanced over.
"Sure." I replied with a sigh, turning and trudging into gym class.
When I got to my gym locker, I sat down and read the note fully.
"And we talk on the phone, late at night About weird and random things And she tells me about her musicals And I tell her about my school And each night when we hang up I wonder. Will she go to homecoming with me?" -So, will you go out with me? Jeff
Yes, that was the last few lines of the note.
Thankfully I had been sitting down already. Because if I wasn't, I know I would have needed to.
Will you go out with me??? To homecoming???? THIS was what he wanted? He wanted me to GO OUT with him? To HOMECOMING which was like in two days?? This Saturday? And I couldn't use marching band as an excuse because he was in it too and. . . and. . .
If you asked me about that gym class, I could not recall a bit of it. All I remember was my whirling mind of confusion and bewilderment, with "Javert's Suicide" from Les Mis running through my head (well, that was because I was listening to my soundtrack and that was the last song that played. And some of the words were aptly suited to my situation. . . ". . . and must I now begin to doubt/who never doubted all these years?" I had wanted a boyfriend for so many years, and now the time had arrived. . . and I was doubting!).
As soon as the class ended, I changed and ran outside, unfolding the note and glancing at the words once more. They struck deeper into my roiling confusion, into my bewildered mind. Jeff had handed it to me (well, to Adi, and he had seen Adi give it to me) so there was no way I could avoid getting it and say I hadn't received it. I had to face him! Oh, why??
The rest of the day was filled with torment. Squeak got a hold of the note, and naturally her response was to tell me repeatedly that I should go out with him because the note was 'so very sweet.' But I didn't want to go out with him! I couldn't see doing any of that boyfriend-y stuff with Jeff. He wasn't the boyfriend-y type!
Not to mention, I suddenly saw things differently. Ever since 7th grade, I longed to have a boyfriend so I could fit in, so I could be like everyone else. The idea was so fascinating and appealed to me so. And now that time was upon me. I had been asked out by a boy, just like I had wanted! And. . . why did I deny? Why did I shy away from the idea as if it was disgusting cafeteria food I hated? Why did all of a sudden the idea of having a boyfriend lost all its appeal? Could it be the fact that this was ~Jeff~ asking me out? Oh, why all these infernal questions! "And my thoughts fly apart. . ." Another lyric of the same song well-suited to the day.
Me and Jeff's friendship was strained for the rest of the day. I couldn't look him in the eye all through English (though I could tell he was looking at me. . . looking at me very intently), and for the first time this year he did not come to the lunch table I sat.
Marching band practice was even worse. I was continually forced to evade his gaze, and for some *ironic* reason, almost every single one of the drill spots we practiced ~had~ to bring Jeff and I close.
"Christine! Chriiiiis. . ." I heard his voice hiss to me during Tony's solo up front. I turned my face away, pretending to be immensely fascinated with Tony's solo, even though I had heard him play it nearly every day since band camp. During the middle of our show, Tony got up to play a solo on his trumpet. And the place where Tony stood was in the opposite direction of Jeff, so I could easily avoid Jeff's glances.
But either way, I was tired of this now. Tired of his stares, of his corny notes, of his "romantics" if you could even call it that. I had to stop it! I had to somehow tell him I ~didn't~ want to go out with him.
But how could I, the shy colorguard member who never said anything, talk to a ~boy~ like this?
The lyrics returned once again. "Who is this man, what sort of devil is he, to have me caught in a trap. . ."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The phone rang that night. "Christine?"
"What?"
"It's Jeff."
"What do you want?"
"To ask you a question."
"Ask away."
I really didn't care right now. I was swamped with math homework, which did not help my confusion.
"You know, the homecoming dance and all. . . going with me. . ."
Great. Now that he was asking formally, what could I do? If I said no, well, the poor chap would be heartbroken. But I did not, and I repeat did not, want to go with HIM. My mind whirled quickly, trying to formulate a good response to this, while still sounding logical. . .
"Can't." Oh, that was fantastic.
Jeff's voice replied, "Why not?"
Why not? Let's see. . . I didn't want to, or I couldn't. . .aha!
"My parents." I replied. "You see, my parents think I'm too young to be going to homecoming, so they are making me wait until I am 16. Sorry, I'd like to go, but my parent's won't let me go."
I relaxed. That was brilliant! Fantastic! How could I forget the old "my- parents-won't-let-me" ploy?
"Oh. Well, that sucks." Replied Jeff.
"Yes." I answered, feeling much more relaxed. Now we could talk as friends again. Now I didn't have to worry. Right?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
We had a football game the next day. I talked with Jeff, feeling glad that I had told him I couldn't go and he wouldn't be asking me anymore. Also, one of his friends was there, and therefore he couldn't really do anything. So I was relaxed. . . for most of the day.
Diana had called an extended practice. After the game was over, the guard would stay an extra hour to learn some new things. Our show wasn't complete. . . and we really needed it to be.
From the moment we reached the stands at the beginning of the game, I saw Jeff's eyes on me. I ignored it-after all, he liked me, and I'm guessing you do look at people you like.
Or it could be the fact that I was in my colorguard uniform, which was very. . . erm. . . form-fitting, shall we say. It was a rather tight body suit. That could be why he was looking at me.
But seeing as it was Jeff, that was absolutely disgusting. His eyes were straying up and down my suit, and the way he spoke to me wasn't friendly, but. . . ~friendly.~
Then, at the end of the game when I was engaged in a deep conversation with the rest of the guard about who the "Super Twins" were ("They had these rings!" Christian said. "And they'd turn into stuff!"), when Jeff came over and dropped next to me.
"Whatcha talkin about?" He asked, leaning his head on his hands and staring.
"Guard stuff." Came my reply. What is it with me and non intelligent replies?
"Oh okay. Well, here's something for ya." He stuffed another note in my hand, making sure to touch my hand while he was at it.
I groaned. Diana waved us over, calling us into our extra practice. The band went down and left, and I trotted over with the rest of the guard, unfolding the note.
Julia peered over my shoulder. I had told her of these incidents the day before, and she was rather curious.
"Gorgeous in her uniform. . . of black, silver, and white. . ."
"Oh shoot me." I muttered.
The entire corny poem was a lavishly written description of how I do colorguard in my uniform. It was quite embarrassing, really. Julia was snickering under her breath at it. Sighing, I stuffed the note into my bag, but not in time for Kat to not see.
"Love notes from Jeff?" Kat said wickedly, grinning.
"Yes, actually!" Was my reply.
I would have said more, except Diana started the extra practice then. And I stood there, doing my colorguard, quite confused.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Jeff called me later that night. We actually had. . . gasp. . . a normal conversation. We chatted about the usual weird things, just as always.
But how long did ~that~ last? Not long at all.
"It sucks still that you can't go to homecoming." Jeff brought up. . . yet again.
"Mmm." I replied, going into my "great, now I have to avoid talking about this again" mode.
"Are you going to be at the competition tomorrow?" He asked. Tomorrow we had our regional competition.
"No, I'm going to skip it, and then Diana will seek me out and chop off my head in the middle of the night and put it on a pole outside the band room as an example of what happens when you skip competitions to the others." I replied sarcastically.
"So you're going?"
"Duh."
"Great." Jeff said, his voice brightening slightly (him thinking I didn't notice). "So I can flirt with you the entire time."
"Mmm." I replied, though I was secretly thinking that I'd like to have Inspector Javert from Les Miserables come in and beat him with that stick thing he always carried in the play, and then chuck him off the barricade.
"So, I'll see you tomorrow?" He asked.
"Unless you're wearing a blindfold." I replied. He completely missed my sarcasm, and said, "Bye!" Overly bright and hung up.
~Oh god,~ I thought as soon as he hung up, leaving me looking at the phone in my lap. ~What have I gotten myself into?~