“You never were dating me!” the twin screeched.
He looked at the other twin, who was standing up toward the back of the bus. “You’re both capable of the same atrocities. You’re genetically identical.”
A s he stomped down the bus stairs, half the bus clapped. The other half murmured, “A trocities?”
“A trocities?” I asked him.
“You burned those SA T words into my brain.” He took my hand and swung it as we walked up the street to the freshman bus. “Let’s go win a contest.”
“I wouldn’t do that to you,” Drew whispered for the hundredth time.
We stood close to each other in front of the band, facing the crowded stands of the stadium. A s the band was warming up for our performance, Drew had engineered this new way for us to stand at attention while we waited for the signal to do the dip. Instead of keeping a few paces between us across the grass, he stood right behind me, touching me, with his hand curled around my waist.
Because we were at attention and were supposed to stay quiet and still, I resisted the urge to put both my hands over his hand and squeeze to comfort him. He hadn’t betrayed me, but he was still horrified that I had ever thought he had. I’d been reassuring him all morning and afternoon.
Now that the sun was setting, the announcer droned on and on with the contest scores. A ll the bands stood at attention on the field. The ones on either side of us squealed with glee when they got high marks, or sagged in defeat otherwise.
We had already done our squealing with glee. Our band had gotten very high scores, and Drew and I had won the award for best drum majors. We had saved Mr. Rush from going back to work at Pizza Hut. For now.
Drew and I had sat together in the stands and watched the performances of most of the bands who’d come before and after us. I was interested in their scores, especially the huge bands that had been in our class. But there were so many scores, and it was a long time to stand still.
I was glad I had Drew’s hand on my waist for entertainment. I took a deep breath just to feel his grip tighten and shift when I moved. I felt another phantom limb coming on.
“I can’t believe you convinced me to stand this way,” I said quietly, moving my lips as little as possible.
“Why?” He sounded hurt.
“It feels too good. If the judges knew, they’d deduct points.”
His chest moved against my back as he tried to swallow his laughter. “There are six games left in the regular season, and I wanted to enjoy them. A nd speaking of enjoying ourselves, what are you doing tonight?”
I’d been waiting for him to ask me. A nd I’d been dreading giving him the answer. “The band got such high marks, I figure they’ll want to roll Mr. Rush’s yard and Oreo his car. It’s probably our responsibility as drum majors to make sure everybody chips in for Oreos and toilet paper.”
He sighed. “Okay. If the buses get back to the school by eight, do you think we can be out of Mr. Rush’s yard by nine?”
“Why? Where are you taking me? Rent 2 Own?”
“Oh, no. Not Rent 2 Own. For you, I’ve scheduled barn time.”
Would this announcer go on forever? I wanted me some barn time. I couldn’t help giggling in anticipation.
“We’ve got to stop this,” he said, his breath warm against my hair. “The judges really might take our high scores away if they see me talking to my girlfriend at attention.”
I tingled at the word “girlfriend.” “More likely, your dad will kill you.”
“My dad will get over it. Jeez, I drove the tractor to school. A nd I’m wearing Vans with my uniform.”
Squinting against the setting sunlight, I searched the stands for Mr. Morrow. Near him sat my parents, holding hands as usual. I still planned to have a talk with them. The fact that Drew and I hadn’t been at fault for spilling their secret didn’t make me any less of a troubled teen.
Now I was just a troubled teen with a boyfriend.
I was almost looking forward to the talk.
The announcer had reached the most important awards of the night, the best band in each class. He started with the smallest bands and moved up. Then he reached the class we should have been in, if Mr. Rush hadn’t been greedy.
“We sounded awesome,” I whispered. “We would have won that class.”
“Don’t talk at attention,” Drew said.
I pinched him.
“Ouch. Don’t pinch at attention.”
I was so sure we hadn’t won the highest class that I stopped listening to the drone of the announcer, until the name of our school was called.
We had won the award.
What? We had won the award!
I wasn’t thinking, but Drew was. We were supposed to do the dip now. He put his hand there and his leg there, and leaned me back until my head almost touched the grass.
The rest of the band was supposed to stay at attention. They should have waited until we collected the other band officers and marched soberly across the field to claim our own trophy the size of a refrigerator.
But the screaming band swarmed around us. Then past us. The entire band, instruments and all, dashed across the field to the trophy table.
Upside down, out the corner of my eye, I noticed that most of them were bareheaded. They left a broad trail of hats on the grass.
Then I looked up into Drew’s dark eyes. “I’m glad I’m still drum major,” he whispered. “But I’m more glad I’m drum major with you.”
The band caught my attention again. They had found Mr. Rush and stood him up against the trophy to measure them. The trophy was slightly taller. A bout ten boys picked up the trophy over their heads, and another ten picked up Mr. Rush. A ll of them fell down. Our band was like that.
“Drum major!” they called across the field. “We need a drum major!”
“They can do without us for once,” Drew said. He kissed me.
I slid my hands into his hair and kissed him back.