Page 4 of The Band Geek

“All right, I think we've had enough for today,” Coach says to everyone, waving to dismiss us to the locker room.

Everyone disperses around me, and I look at the sidelines again to see Rowan lingering, carefully putting her flute in a hard shell case. I walk over, ignoring all my teammates around me as they comment about the practice, hoping it is enough to get us a win tomorrow.

Rowan doesn't turn around when I approach. She's too preoccupied being as gentle as possible with her instrument. “So do you usually linger around and watch practice?” I ask, forcing her to turn around with her eyebrows raised. She looks over my shoulder at everyone else as if she's wondering why I would talk to her instead of them.

“Not usually, but if you get knocked on your ass like that all the time, I might make a habit of it,” Rowan replies with a smug smile.

“Sorry to say it doesn't usually happen,” I reply, moving closer to her and staring in her eyes. The sunlight hits the center and makes them almost look like a pale green, much different than they looked in the library a few days ago. “I was distracted by something today.”

“The short skirts on the cheerleaders, I imagine.” She locks her case and turns around to face me with one arm folded across her and the other dangling at her side with the case in hand.

I smirk at her and look her up and down, not hiding the expression on my face. She's beautiful, and she doesn't know it, but by the look on my face, she's realizing I think something about her.

“Something like that,” I say, taking a deep breath and flashing her the most charming smile I can muster. “You and I need to get together sometime soon for the project, don't we? You haven't texted me yet.”

She nods slowly, wearing an unreadable expression as she contemplates what to say. A part of me undeniably looks forward to hanging out with her again. We had chemistry in the library, and I could see that she felt it too. She practically turned into a tomato when our hands brushed against each other.

Most girls don't challenge me the way she does. If I look at them, they'll just bat their eyelashes and flirt with me, hoping I take them to bed. It's not something I ever thought I would be interested in, but it's certainly got my attention, and I can't stop thinking about her now.

“I don't have classes after eleven on Monday if you want to meet at the library then,” Rowan says, forcing herself to remain stoic.

“Sawyer!” Talon shouts behind me. “Are you coming home, or should I just leave you here?”

Rowan looks over my shoulder with a smirk on her lips as Talon approaches with Merrit right next to him. He couldn't have picked a worse time, could he? Rowan grabs her backpack and swings it over her shoulder, readying herself to leave.

“I'm just talking to Rowan about our history project,” I say, gesturing to her, which makes her freeze and give a half-hearted wave. “This is my roommate Talon and his girlfriend Merrit,” I say to her.

Merrit looks between us and starts putting the pieces together in her head. She is much smarter than Talon and I combined, so I doubt there would be any questions about my motives with her.

“Nice to meet you. I actually have to run,” Rowan says, clearly making an excuse to get as far away from the three of us as possible. “I'll see you on Monday at the library then.”

She turns around and walks away as quickly as she can. I watch her, thinking about all the possibilities that lay before me on Monday. I can tell she likes me, even if it's a small amount. I just wonder if I can wear her down enough to potentially explore something.

“You have your fake ID? We need to make a beer run for the party tomorrow night,” Talon says, grabbing Merrit’s hand and leading her off the field. I follow them to the parking lot, wishing I can have something like they do someday. They're so in love, and even though I've been with my fair share of women, I've never had strong feelings for them.

Sometimes I wonder if I can even have that. If that life is meant for me after all.

FOUR

As predicted, we win the football game on Friday, and chaos erupts all around us. The only reason I'm here is because the band is all required to attend every game and perform during halftime. Of course, that is the unofficial intermission for everybody watching the game. The stands are practically empty as everyone goes to the bathroom and the concession stand to refill their popcorn and get another hot dog or pretzel.

The only people who really enjoy the band performance are other band geeks like myself. Unsurprisingly, most of us aren't that interested in football. We usually sit on the sidelines and eat snacks, joking with one another while we wait for our signal to play. Today, though, I find myself more interested in the game than I would generally be.

I hate to admit it, but I'm not actually interested in the game. I watch Sawyer as he performs, holding back applause and cheers when he does well. I surprise even myself with how nervous I am toward the end of the game. Every time he takes a hit like he did during the practice yesterday, my heart skips a few beats. I don't understand how he does things like this.

Because we win the game, the band has to return to the field and perform our university's victory song. All the cheerleaders run around, wrapping their arms around the necks of the football players, climbing on their backs and straddling them. I can only imagine the rewards they will get after today.

Even as I'm in the middle of performing, my fingers dancing along the keys of my flute, my eyes search for Sawyer. It stings when I find him in the crowd with one of the cheerleaders wrapping her arms around his neck. I have to look away to keep my composure, hating the effect Sawyer has on me.

We get through the song, and I’m eager to leave the field. I'm probably the first person to leave. Usually, we linger behind for a little while, chatting and waiting for our connection in the concession stand to give us some of the leftover pretzels to take back to the music room. I just don't feel up to that today.

I practically run back to my dorm and close the door behind me, changing out of my band uniform promptly. While everyone else is going to be out partying, getting shit-faced drunk and celebrating the win, I would rather stay in bed watching Netflix.

I'm midway through an episode ofVeepwhen Corinne unlocks the door and walks in. She drops her clarinet case on the floor nonchalantly as she starts hastily changing out of her band uniform.

“Turn off the boring show and get dressed. We're going to a party,” Corinne says, looking over at me with an eager smile. I can tell she's excited. The only parties the two of us get invited to are our university-sanctioned gatherings completely free of alcohol and any other illicit substances. In Corinne's eyes, that means they're not fun.

“Whose party?” I ask, curious and sitting up, pausing the show.

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