Confessions of a Teenage Band Geek

by Brandt, Courtney

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “You know, Julia, you actually can’t come on the sidelines with Quincy.”

  “Why not?”

  “Do I really need to answer that?”

  A stray practice ball comes to rest between us and I awkwardly sidle away, managing to knock over a practice net and almost trip on a sack of practice balls during my efforts. Point made.

  “Alright,” I sigh dramatically, “You have a point, but please be safe.”

  “I will,” he says, winding up his arm in a stretch.

  I want to add, and stay away from conniving cheerleading ex-girlfriends, but I don’t. My attention is quickly diverted to the Wade situation. After putting Quincy in a safe place, I find Laurel and ask, “Ready?”

  She nods and together, we go scouting for Caitlin, who is easy to find because she looks just like her Perfect Date profile picture. She’s blonde and pretty – hopefully, fingers crossed – she’s just Wade’s type!

  I swallow my nerves, and ask, “Caitlin?”

  She looks strangely at me, and I guess it’s funny, because I know a lot about her, but she doesn’t know that, “Yes?”

  “Wade told me, er, us, to come look for you.”

  Predictably, Wade has totally gone to talk to the other drumline instructor. Laurel smiles and tags along. We find Wade talking to some scruffy looking drummer dude in a major discussion of past DCI shows.

  Laurel walks up and totally interrupts their conversation, “Wade?”

  Wade looks at Laurel, and looks past her to where Caitlin and I are standing. I’ve got my fingers crossed – please Wade – don’t mess this up!

  Caitlin, apparently seeing something she likes, steps forward, “Hey…Wade?”

  Then Wade does something totally un-Wade like. He removes his hands from his back pocket which somehow manages to send his drumsticks clattering loudly onto the track. Me and the scruffy Instructor share a look like, ‘Is this guy for real?’ Wade almost manages to recover, and drops down to the ground, grasping wildly for his sticks. Caitlin, helpful teacher that she is, also bends down and, almost if in slow motion, they reach for the pristine white taped wrapped stick at the same time, and predictably, bump heads. Laurel, scruffy Instructor, and I are trying our best not to laugh.

  “S-sorry,” mumbles Wade, who as far as I know has never stuttered in his life. Of course, this is probably the worst first impression in the history, but then, they both stand up and kind of look at each other funny. Could it be…love at first sight?

  “I’m Caitlin.”

  “Wade.”

  They shake hands. At the exact same moment, something happens on the field and everyone in the stands takes a big breath. It’s the kind of thing that only happens when someone gets seriously injured. My heart plummets to the bottom of my stomach – could it be Denny? Without even thinking, I sprint away and head to the Warriors sidelines. My heart slams in relief as I see Denny, alive and whole, standing on the sidelines. However, his expression says it all. It’s about to be his field. Having not really paid attention, my eyes glance up to the scoreboard. There’s about three minutes left in the quarter and Westlake is only up by a field goal. Watching the former quarterback hobble off the field, I realize this is now Denny’s game to lose or win. When I look back at my boyfriend, I watch as Liberty comes up to his side and whispers something in his ear. Livid as I am, I have to give the girl credit, she doesn’t give up. Unfortunately, being an only child, I never really learned how to share.

  * * *

  CHAPTER TWENTY: Second Half

  So, I know this night should be about Denny and his big comeback, but seeing Liberty that close to my boyfriend really sets something off inside me. I think Denny made it crystal clear he was definitely not interested in her. Why couldn’t she take a hint already? Marching confidently over, I am almost to the sidelines when I feel a tug on my uniform. Wheeling around, I am surprised to see McDaniel standing stoically behind me, a slight look of disappointment on his face. He says stoically, “Don’t do this, Julia, not here, not now.”

  I don’t know how McDaniel can read my mind, but he’s probably right. Nothing is going to come of me making a giant scene right before Denny takes the field. As we make it back to the rest of the Line, the clock clicks towards the end of the third quarter. I notice Wade is also walking back, which could be a first. I don’t think he’s ever been last to the stands. He’s usually there waiting for us, like, how could we even think about eating when we could be playing? Could it be things went well with Caitlin?

  After settling down behind Quincy, I wave Laurel to join me in the tenor row of the stands. As she makes her way up, I’m distracted by what’s going on the field. It is currently third and long – a difficult place for Denny to take over. All of the fans seem to hold their breath as he takes the snap. To me, it’s weird watching Denny on the field, because he looks like a completely different person. I know underneath all that padding and the helmet, it’s my Denny, but right now, he’s so far away. He drops back and releases a perfect spiral…right into the waiting arms of a wide receiver, who runs for the end zone. Everyone, the coach and players – the fans on our side – the members of the marching band – seem stunned. Then wild cheering erupts and Kimberly brings up her hands up for the Warrior fight song. My hands go through the motions, but it’s like I don’t even realize what I’m doing. The whole situation seems slightly surreal. Wasn’t it only months ago I was living in Southern California and had no idea what a quarterback did?

  The extra point is good, and Denny is all smiles as he comes off the field. I couldn’t be prouder! Even better? I see him looking up into the marching band section, searching me out. We make eye contact and we’re both grinning like idiots. An idea suddenly appears in my head, and I look pleadingly at McDaniel and mouth the words, ‘Your Mom?’

  McDaniel nods and gets the attention of rest of the Battery, yelling, “Your Mom Goes to College!”

  This particular cadence is one McDaniel and Denny co-wrote last season has some jamming quint parts. When we’re finished, my heart rate settles back down to normal and Laurel sits next to me. I immediately ask, “So, how did things go? Sorry I had to leave, but—”

  She waves her hand and says calmly, “No big deal. I think it actually went well. Wade managed not to further injure Caitlin or anything, and I pretty sure they’re going out after the game.”

  “I guess this worked out better than we thought it was going to.”

  She nods and asks, “So, what do we do now?”

  “Cross our fingers Wade doesn’t get mad at us for the whole setup?”

  Laurel laughs, and answers, “He looked happy – who knows? Maybe he’ll be thanking us.”

  The game ends – a win – and I head up with everyone to wait for the victorious Denny in the percussion room. Hearing someone behind me, I look up and am quite shocked to see a very happy Beans and Cornbread standing in front of me. I didn’t see them at the game, or really even peg them as having enough school spirit to show up tonight.

  “What’s up?” I ask warily because the identical smiles on their faces is kind of creeping me out.

  There is some nudging and even more grinning, but finally Greg exclaims, “We got a gig!”

  Could more things happen in one night, please? Seriously, was there some major astrological event taking place I didn’t know about? The guys’ faces start to fall, because I haven’t reacted yet. Being the girl, sometimes my role is the default cheerleader for the group. Ironic, I know. I quickly gather them all in for a group hug and say, “That’s awesome! When? Where? Give me all the details!”

  Everyone tries to talk at once, until Greg quiets everyone down and starts telling me, “Well, it’s Saturday, October 20th at The Foundry.”

  Alarm bells go off in my head. I know for a fact that basically every Saturday from two weeks from now until November are going to be taken up by band competitions. Unless I’m mistaken, I’m going
to have to choose between marching band and Beans and Cornbread.

  Before I can stop my reaction, Tyler sees the concern on my face and asks, “What’s up, Julia?”

  “Umm…” The hope on the guys’ faces is ridiculous and rightfully so, because they’ve never played a real gig before. This is a big deal for them – well, for all of Beans and Cornbread. I’ve played a show or two, and they love hearing stories about it. Plus, The Foundry is like, an actual club in town that hosts real acts. Rather than share my concerns, I change the subject and ask, “So, who hooked us up with the sweet gig?”

  Jasper raises his hand. That’s a surprise. Compared to myself and Greg, well, we do tend to take up a lot of the space in a room. Perpetually relaxed Jasper doesn’t seem to comfortable with all of us staring at him, so Greg launches with his own version of the story, “See, apparently, J has been going to the Foundry on his brother’s ID most of the summer, and started getting friendly with some of the staff there. After we recorded Universe, Jasper brought the track over to the staff, and they totally loved it and booked us as soon as possible. Apparently, we’re opening for The Academy Is… Can you believe it?”

  How am I possibly going to make this work? How can I explain to them I might not be there? For the first time in a really long time, I don’t know what to do or say. I guess I never really took the time to think about whether or not this particular scenario would come up. I didn’t figure Jasper would have the motivation to take our demo track anywhere (much less an actual club), or any establishment would actually want to hear us.

  So, how am I supposed to choose between the two?

  I don’t really know who I owe more to at this point. Sure, there’s been countless more hours spent with the drumline, and my entire section I’d be letting down, but does that make my commitment to the band any less? Don’t they count on me as well? Without a drummer, Beans and Cornbread can’t play the gig. Without an extra tenor drummer, Westlake will probably be just fine.

  But how will everyone in the drumline take my disappearance? Will they be able to understand where I’m coming from? My concentration is broken when Mr. Star Quarterback joins us. He nods to my band mates, “What’s up, guys?”

  They look at him strangely, because in comparison to me, he’s not in any sort of marching band ensemble – instead he’s clean from his post game shower, and wearing school logoed warm ups – looking every inch the jock and no part the band geek. Totally glad for the interruption, I immediately threw my arms around him, “Congratulations, Denny! You were awesome!”

  Beans and Cornbread look confused, then they kind of shrug, like, maybe this is how kids in marching band act after a game. Rolling my eyes and happily changing the subject, I announce, “For your information, Denny was the star of the game tonight.”

  “Julia…”

  “No really, you did an outstanding job. We won because of you!”

  There are surprising nods of congratulations and encouragement from the band. And then Greg and his big mouth and gets right back to the subject I’m trying to avoid, “So, we have some good news of our own.”

  Denny looks at me first, but asks Greg, “What’s that?”

  “We’ve got our first real gig.”

  The rest of this conversation cannot go well, so I immediately interject, “And we’re so excited, I’ll tell you all about it later!”

  The guys look a little disappointed they’re not going to relive the booking of our upcoming gig for the second time in five minutes, but fortunately, Laurel decides to take this moment to appear. She smiles at Greg and says warmly, “Hey.”

  With half of the group ready to couple off and another person to tell about the gig, I count myself lucky for the diversion and drag Denny out of the room.

  Twenty minutes later at the nearby local park (it’s warm enough to spread out a blanket and look at the stars). Curious, I ask, “What did your teammates say? What did the Coach say?”

  There is of course, the unasked question, what did Liberty say? but I decide to leave that one alone for a while. He’s here with me now, and that’s what counts.

  Denny shrugs and answers, “You know, I’ve had enough of being quarterback or whatever tonight, can we just hang out?”

  Even though I’m dying to ask if he’s going to start next week, or go to practice or what it all means, I manage to keep my mouth closed. I’d be about to burst with wanting to talk about the recent life changing events, but I know not everyone, my boyfriend included, thinks like me. While Denny’s fingers trace lazy circles on my back, I look up at the night sky, and mentally debate what I think his reaction will be when I reveal the upcoming gig vs. competition situation. Maybe he can help me clarify my feelings. I ask, “So, Denny?”

  “Yes?”

  “You know the gig Greg was talking about?”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s um, well, I think it’s the same night as one of our competitions.”

  Denny whistles low and says, “Wade will kill you.”

  “Wait a minute. How do you know that’s what I’m going to pick? How can you just assume that will be my decision?”

  He stops rubbing my back and props his head on his hand and looks at me, “Isn’t that what you’re going to pick?”

  While the gig is what I thought was best for me and both my long and short term life goals, somehow I don’t think Denny knows me that well. Also, there’s something in his tone of voice that makes me uncomfortable. Not looking at him, I say hypothetically, “What happens if I’m ‘sick’?”

  There’s a moment before he answers, “You do realize you’re talking to your section leader, right?”

  “That’s funny, I thought I was talking to my boyfriend.”

  When he doesn’t answer, I have to admit I’m confused – until Denny grumbles, “Don’t you think my life is complicated enough without another thing to worry about?”

  Wow, I really wasn’t expecting that kind of answer. I was expecting something more along the lines of, ‘I’m sorry, Julia, please tell me why the gig is so important to you.’ Still unsure what just happened, I reply, “I didn’t think…”

  “Well, maybe you should do a little more thinking before you talk.”

  Although I know that particular fact is one of my worst qualities, I don’t need someone pointing it out. Especially when that someone is so important to me. Indignant, I get up and say, “Take me home.”

  Denny’s different colored eyes soften for a moment before he gets up and says, “Fine.”

  At home, after making quick work of utterly destroying my eye makeup, I replay the conversation over and over in my head. While I didn’t think Denny was going to be overly ecstatic about my gig, I thought maybe he’d at least get a few more details before getting all weird. Doesn’t he know it’s not easy for me to decide who I’m going to let down? Couldn’t he understand what I was going through? He’s lucky – he can play football and march and comes out looking like a hero. I, on the other hand, am going to probably lose the spot I’ve committed so many hours to, all because of terrible timing.

  * * *

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: Arrangements

  Waking up, I immediately check my phone and am sad to see no text from Denny. Huffing down to breakfast, the best idea I’ve got in less than ten hours (nine of which were spent sleeping) was to basically explain to The Mick and Wade that my Mom would be going on a business trip she had neglected to tell me about and she had already purchased a non-refundable ticket for me to come along and do a college visit. I would be one part sad and two parts pissed off. I know my Mom wouldn’t like me lying, but what other option did I have?

  So, given my executive decision to go ahead with the Foundry show (no matter what the nagging little voice in my head says), I go a little crazy at the rehearsal that day for Beans and Cornbread. I am literally a woman possessed. If I can’t be at the competition with the Line, then I will be a part of the best gig we’ve ever played. Although, I think I’m scaring
the boys with my Wade-like intensity.

  “Seriously, you need to chill, Julia.” Greg finally reins me in after I start one of our songs for the 6th time less than four bars in, all because Jasper comes in a fraction of a second late.

  I need to chill?!

  Who is he kidding?

  I don’t say anything, except to momentarily mutter a series of expletives under my breath. I really don’t think these guys get what I am giving up to be with them. All the long hours in the sun with Wade yelling at us? Hauling Quincy all over the place? Unnaturally large shoulders for a girl? We’re only an hour into the rehearsal, and I’m practically at the point of breaking my drumsticks over my head. Literally. I can’t remember the last time I was this stressed. If we can’t get simple things like entrances clean, then how are we supposed to impress people enough to sign us? I don’t see a lot of A and R guys walking around saying, ‘We totally want the band that plays sloppy.’

  Of course, I haven’t really told them why I’m this stressed. I don’t want to tell my band what I’m sacrificing because I think it will bring up unnecessary drama. Rather than trusting myself to speak, I nod and click my sticks to start the song. We get further in, but this time I can hear Tyler is totally out of tune. Slamming my sticks to the ground, I announce, “I’m out.”

  Walking out of a rehearsal is something I’ve never done before. Striding angrily away from Tyler’s house, the pace of my steps gradually decreases and I wipe away tears of anger and frustration from my face. I know I should probably go back and make things right with the guys…after all, the biggest night of my life is coming up and the three kids in that garage will have a direct effect on its turnout, but I don’t want to turn around. Instead, I want to walk to Denny’s house and figure out what in the hell happened last night. However, I wuss out on both accounts and rather than do anything productive, I walk to my car and lamely drive home.