I open my eyes to find Emily’s sad face staring back at me. She’s supposed to try to earn her spot back tonight, but instead, I’ve just given her a good reason not to even bother.
With Tim’s and Nate’s eyes on me, I paste on the brightest smile I can possibly manage while my heart cracks open in my chest. “Did you find out you’re gluten-intolerant, too?”
Emily’s face scrunches in confusion. “Um, no. I don’t think so. I meant, I’m going to quit band.”
“Oh. I meant, I’m going to quit eating pasta.” I thumb in turn at each of the guys flanking me. “They’re getting grossed out by how gassy I am, so I promised them I would quit doing things I know are going to come back to haunt me—and them—later.”
A month ago, I could not have imagined voluntarily saying something so embarrassing, but that off-the-cuff remark is totally worth it. Emily stifles a laugh as much as Nate and Tim do.
“You should quit, too,” I suggest, much to everyone’s surprise. “Quit trying to talk yourself out of something you love so much. So, you lost your spot last week. Who cares? You’re still in the band. You might win it back tonight, or you might not. Who cares? You’re still in the band, and as long as you’re a Marching Miner, you might get that spot back. But if you quit now, you never will.”
“I know.” She shuffles her feet a bit and gazes at the ground. “It’s just so hard. I practiced all week, and I don’t even know if it’s going to be worth it.”
I tip my head in acknowledgment. “It’s worth it because you worked so hard. And if you didn’t love band, you wouldn’t have even done that much. You would have already given up. That’s how I know you’re not going to quit now.”
She lifts her gaze. Her expression is only a little less beat down, but it’s an improvement. “I guess you’re right. If I don’t get my spot back tonight, then I’ll work even harder next week.” Her grin is full of self-deprecation. “This is the part where you tell me not giving up and working as hard as I have to will make winning my spot back even more worth it, right?”
“Right.” I nod, preparing to take my own advice and wishing Jim could understand this is exactly why I’m so upset about his actions. I didn’t get to work hard enough to make this worthwhile. They didn’t believe I could.
Emily nods then finds a seat with the other trumpet rookies.
“You’re not going to quit,” Tim states.
“You know who I think deserves to be head drum major?” Nate’s stare bores into me. “You.”
Not yet I don’t. But starting tonight, I will.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The rookies are a chattering ball of excitement as we wait in line with our arms linked to get into the ITK party.
“I’m so glad it’s not an open party tonight,” a freshman flute confesses. “Last week was so overwhelming. There were too many people, and I didn’t know most of them.”
“Tonight’s party is only open to other band members,” I reassure her. “So, you won’t have to worry about randos from all over campus, and it’ll be a good opportunity to meet some upperclassmen bandies you haven’t had a chance to get to know yet.”
Emily sulks beside me. “I know you only dragged me here to cheer me up, so you can’t get mad when I get shit-faced in less than an hour.”
“You’re right. I did drag you here to cheer you up. Maybe once you make friends with more of your section in a chill environment, you’ll quit looking at them as the competition whose only goal is to beat you. And if you want to get drunk, then I’ll make sure you get back to your dorm safely.”
She doesn’t know how good she has it. I would never dream of telling her she shouldn’t be upset for not winning her spot back, but Sarah won’t ever get the opportunity to even attend a party like this, much less get drunk if she wants to. Convincing this group of shyer freshmen women to come to the party is another way of making sure they live their fullest lives. And with them under my wings, maybe I can teach them how not to make the mistakes I did. They’ll learn how to have fun without going too crazy and always know someone is in their corner if they need help climbing out of a hole they’ve dug for themselves.
Jared is on door duty again. I’m not sure if this is punishment for what he did to me or if he actually just likes doing it. His bland expression makes me think it’s the former. He passes out candy necklaces to all of us.
“I thought the Suck me/Eat me party was on Valentine’s Day?”
“It is.” He motions for the girls to go in. “There’s always a theme for band-only parties, so we reuse some of them at random.”
“And whose idea was it for Suck me/Eat me tonight?” This just reeks of Jimbo’s deviousness.
Jared scratches his chin and genuinely seems to think about it. “Shannon’s actually.” He returns his gaze to the line behind me and shakes his head. “I don’t know why. It’s not like she and Jake aren’t plastered to each other’s faces all the time anyway. They don’t need an excuse for PDA.”
He’s not wrong. Only I think it’s cute, whereas he obviously thinks it’s disgusting. Maybe he’s just jealous he doesn’t have anyone plastered to him. Maybe if he didn’t spike unsuspecting women’s drinks, he would.
My rookies are grouped just inside the basement, waiting for me to rejoin them.
“You can go in all the way, you know. We’re all bandies here. No one is going to mess with you.” Mostly because I’ll be keeping a close eye on Jared for the rest of the night.
A saxophone with bright red hair smiles. “We know, but it makes us look cooler if we walk in with the head drum major.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Oh, so that’s your angle, huh? I feel so used.”
They laugh, too. A little self-deprecation and embarrassment are good for more than just my own soul, it turns out.
I lead them toward the bar. If anyone asks, I’m not condoning underage drinking, but if they’re going to do it anyway, I’d rather they do it in a safer environment than a random campus party where they don’t know anyone.
“Well, this is the best-looking group of ladies I’ve seen so far tonight.” Jim smiles and leans his arms on the bar. Because, of course, he’s working the bar.
My rookies giggle at his flattery, and I don’t blame them. He might be a raging asshole of epic proportions, but he’s still a sexy-as-sin raging asshole. All tight-fitted T-shirt, bulging biceps, and charming smile. The scruff has fully grown into a close-cropped beard, too. Stupidly sexy asshole.
He points to the candy necklace still clutched in my hand then motions to where he’s wearing his around his neck. I roll my eyes. I know what I’m supposed to do with it.
The women are eager to please, so they immediately don their necklaces.
“Here are the rules,” he explains. “If you want someone to have a piece of candy, you tell them, Eat me. If a guy wants you to have a piece of his candy, he’ll say, Suck me. They are allowed to say no, and you are allowed to decline. No one is permitted to take your candy without asking first, and vice versa. One infraction gets your necklace taken away, and a second infraction gets you escorted out of the party. Any questions?”