Sectionals

Sorry about not updating very quickly. I got busy with finals and all. But school's over now, and band hasn't begun yet, so I have plenty of time (ish) to write! Yay! Thanks to all for the reviews. I honestly wasn't expecting so many on only two chapters. But that's a good thing :D


At 4:00 exactly I ducked in the door to the band room, moments before Ms. Havens pulled it shut.

"Just in time," she said, looking at me in surprise as I dashed inside, heading for my locker. I pulled my alto sax case out and collapsed down on the floor with the rest of the band. As Ms. Havens talked to the section leaders at the front of the room to explain today's plan, I took my sax out of my case and grabbed a reed, putting it in my mouth distractedly as I noticed that at the group of section leaders at the front, Steven, the alto sax leader, was missing.

Crap, I thought. Whenever a section leader is absent, his or her section is usually shuffled off to join with another. In my section's case, we go off with the flutes. Not that there's anything wrong with the flutes. It's just... well, they're flutes. They tend to be a little hyperactive. (A/N: -cough- Heheheh... Yes, I'm a flutist. I couldn't help but be reminded of my own section when I wrote this. Aww, I love them -hugs-)

However, Linda Friedman, the flute's leader, didn't seem to be heading our way. She was gathering up her own section. Rather, it was Ryan who was walking over to us.

Double crap, I thought. We get the drum major today. Although something about that thought felt different, I wasn't quite sure what.

"Right," he began as he stopped and eyed us all, "I'll be directing you all in sectionals today. I'm not a saxophone player so don't expect me to know any fingerings or anything." He grinned at us all and began leading us to the choir room where we would practice. I stood there in shock for a moment, then collected my wits and trotted off after the group.

Fifteen minutes later, we'd played through our warm-ups and scales and were proceeding on to play our opening piece.

"No, no," Ryan was saying to us, "That's a dotted eighth note and a sixteenth note. You're playing it so lazily, like a triplet. The sixteenth note should be much shorter."

I, however, wasn't taking in what he was saying. I was instead looking ahead in the music, to the part we hadn't played yet. The part with five flats. I fingered silently through the first ten measures.

"Rhianna?" I jumped and looked up wildly.

"Would you play it for us? You're the only one who has it right."

I stared at Ryan. "Wait... what? Where?"

"Measures 56 through 60."

Acutely aware that I was turning bright red, I began to play. It went smoothly, and when I finished, I glanced up at Ryan, dreading what I would read on his face. He caught my eye and I turned even redder. Triple crap, I thought, mortified.

"That was good!" After glancing at me one more time, he turned to the rest of the group and instructed them some more, reminding them to play like me.

All I wanted, though, was to sink into a hole in the ground. Sure, it went fine, but... it was embarrassing. Yet I was insanely proud. Somehow. And I was scared to ask myself why.