(Jake)

Band trips suck. They really really suck. There's something fundamentally wrong about the entire world shrinking to fifty people, only fifteen of whom are worth talking to.

Good thing I hate band trips. Because this is my last one. Either Lisa or Becca is going to kill me before we even get to the band part of this trip. Given my luck, they'll probably get over hating each other long enough to kill me together.

OK, so I should probably explain myself about now. I like Lisa. I really do. She's great. She's gorgeous, and there's something about her that makes everyone turn and look at her. She's a take-charge kind of girl. She knows what she wants, and she's going to get it no matter what. Really, she chose me, and I'm just along for the ride. I'm not complaining, really. I guess.

But then there's Becca. She's a strong person. She does everything with her whole self. She gives her music everything, which is something I've always found geeky in most people, but in her is really cute. She loves with her whole heart, and without regrets. She doesn't apologize for who she is, or allow anyone else to apologize for who they are either. She hates phonies, and refuses to compromise herself or what she believes in for anything.

I screwed up big with her. And she's never forgiven me. We've never really talked since. Maybe if I talk to her tonight, we can be friends. She's one of the funnier girls I know. And since Lisa isn't going to be speaking with me for awhile, I might as well find myself a friend.

Man, it's cold out here.

"I'm sorry," I say to Becca.

"No, it's cool," she replies. "I like it when boys break my heart to screw the local ho."

"What? I meant–"

"I know what you meant, Idiot. It's fine about the other thing. I figured you were in love with the freshman. Man, clarinet girls will get you every time."

"You always did that," I say, not looking at her.

"What?" she asks, defensive now.

"Made jokes to avoid really talking."

"True, but I'm not the one who just got screwed with his pants on, so you don't have too much on me."

She's right. "I'm in love with you."

She just laughs at me.

"No, really," I say. "I thought I wasn't. I mean, I know I used to be, but, well, I've been thinking about it, and I think I still am. You know, in love."

More laughing.

Now I'm starting to get worried. "Hey, it's not that funny. I'm being serious." I get a little louder now. "I love you Rebecca Hailey Johnson. Now stop laughing at me, and tell me you love me too."

Now she's not laughing. Now she's getting up. And walking back inside. And leaving me here in the cold. Alone.

Oh crap.

Not so much with the alone. The trombone section just popped out from behind a bench. And there's the trumpets behind a truck, and everyone else coming out of their little hiding spots.

I look inside. Lisa's standing in the doorway. Huh…well, this sucks.

I hate band trips.