“Oh.” Surprised, he put his hand to his earlobe like he’d forgotten all about his earring.
“I had no idea you turn in your homework,” I said. “Traitor.”
“You mistook me for something else, and that’s the only reason . . .” As we reached our starting spot on the field and faced the home side, his voice trailed off, but his silence told me the rest of what he was thinking. All of it was true. Yes, I’d lured him home last Sunday night only because I thought he was a slacker like me. Yes, he’d ruined everything by being an upstanding Future Pharmacist of America. Yes.
He nodded as if accepting his fate. “So listen, I wanted to ask you something. It’s not about a date.”
I laughed to show him I wasn’t uncomfortable that he’d read my mind. And then I kept laughing uncomfortably.
He talked over me. “I’m trying out for Spirit of Atlanta in late November. My parents promised me I could try out for drum corps this year, but that was when we lived in Minnesota and there were three corps right next door in Wisconsin. Now that Atlanta is the closest one, I wondered if you wanted to try out with me.”
My heart was beating so hard it hurt. He’d said he wasn’t asking me for a date, but he was issuing me an invitation for something sweet, something kind, something I almost wanted.
Drum corps were basically marching bands with superpowers. They took only the best players from high school and college. They toured the country, competing against each other. It sounded like the perfect place for Will to pass the summer between high school and college—especially if most of it was spent bopping around the northern states, where he wouldn’t overheat at eight a.m. I could tell from the way he talked so wistfully about it that this was one more thing he’d had to give up when he moved.
“I don’t see what my PSAT score has to do with trying out for corps,” I said.
Gathering his thoughts, he tapped his stick on my drumhead a few times. “When I met you, I thought you were a random person who randomly was an excellent drummer. Now I know you’re an excellent drummer on purpose, the type of person who goes out for corps.”
“You’re wrong about me,” I insisted. “You were right the first time. I’m random. When I succeed, that’s the mistake.”
“You make a lot of mistakes.” He sounded hurt. I hoped we weren’t going to have another silent practice like after we argued last Monday.
But he was only waiting for Jimmy, Travis, and the rest of the drummers to arrange themselves in line. When they’d passed, he said quietly, “It would be better to have a friend in corps than to go knowing absolutely nobody, don’t you think? Plus, you have to be there one weekend a month during the school year for practice, and my parents don’t want me to make that seven-hour drive twice in one weekend by myself.”
I turned to look at him. He wasn’t the bad boy he’d seemed at first. Another admission that his mom wanted to keep him safe shouldn’t have surprised me. But that just didn’t jibe with the tall drummer in front of me, looking so serious with his hair cut short, his expression inscrutable behind his mirrored shades.
“What do you think?” he prompted me. “Would your dad let you spend the night in a car with me?”
He was kidding. This was exactly the kind of joke I ribbed him with constantly.
But I found myself speechless. I was imagining spending the night in Will’s car with him. Driving through the night to Atlanta. Talking. Touching. Keeping each other awake behind the wheel.
Then I was thinking about my first night with him. How good he’d made me feel. How I’d decided that one night was enough. How wrong I’d been.
“Tia,” he said.
I snapped, “My dad wouldn’t notice.”
Will’s dark brows knitted behind his sunglasses, and that worry line appeared. “You should try out, then.”
“I couldn’t afford corps.” This wasn’t exactly true. My dad worked so much, and our house was in such a state of disrepair, that a lot of my friends assumed we must be at the brink of bankruptcy. We weren’t. But my dad was very tight with our savings. He’d had to support Izzy and Sophia and their kids for a while. Violet hadn’t gotten knocked up and abandoned yet, but we figured she would. By now we both expected the worst.
For that matter, I could have paid for corps myself. I’d saved a lot working two jobs. But saying no to Will was a foregone conclusion. I wanted to get involved with him, but I just couldn’t do that to myself. I knew what would happen next.
Will had an answer for everything. “It’s expensive, but you could apply for a scholarship, or you could get some business in town to sponsor you.”
A business like the antiques shop, I thought grimly as I pulled my vibrating phone out of my pocket and glanced at the screen. I used to answer every time Bob and Roger called, because I was afraid Bob had taken a turn for the worse. But lately they’d started calling me about the shop, of all things—where the vintage handbags were on the network of shelves, and how to access the catalog of sterling flatware I’d set up in their computer so they wouldn’t have to call me.
As I slipped my phone back into my pocket, unanswered, Will was saying, “I mean, corps isn’t for everyone. Don’t let me talk you into it if you’re not a fan.”
“No, I love corps,” I said. “People complain about traveling the whole summer, eating peanut butter sandwiches three meals a day, and sleeping on school gym floors all over the country, but that sounds fun to me. And not too far removed from my current life. I always wanted to try out.”
He moved his drumsticks apart, a drummer’s version of spreading his hands to shrug. “Why didn’t you?”
“I figured I wouldn’t make it.” A half truth this time. I had a lot of confidence in my ability as a drummer, because I’d listened carefully and compared myself to other players when our band went to games or contests. But I had no confidence in my ability to lead a section or arrive at practice on time. God only knew what I’d be getting myself into in an organization that was actually rigorous.
“You would make it.” He looked sidelong at me beneath his shades. “But maybe you don’t want to chance getting stuck next to me again.”
The highlight of my day, even a fun first day of school like this, was standing next to Will. But I brushed him off. “Maybe you don’t want to chance getting stuck next to me again, and you regret bringing it up.”