“Back together again,” Nova says and knocks my shoulder with her own. “Just like drill down.”
I manage a small laugh, but my mouth is dry. I can see Max in my peripheral vision, but I avoid eye contact withhim, even though the game hasn’t started yet. I really don’t want to play anymore. With the others, it’s just a dumb game. But playing with Max feels…intimate.
I purposely turn toward Nova and away from where Max is standing. Nonetheless, a prickle of awareness creeps across my skin.
“Is Max looking at me right now?” I whisper to Nova.
Her eyes flick in his direction and back to me. “Uh…yep he is—wait, he was. He just looked away.”
“Why was he looking at me?”
“Don’t ask me, there’s nothing I understand less than guys. What’s going on? Why aren’t you in each other’s faces, throwing out insults like usual? Do you have an official truce?”
I shake my head. I don’t know what’s going on with us. We aren’t friends. We haven’t spoken a word to each other since the game Sunday. But there’s a weird tension between us now, and I don’t like it.
Marjorie walks in a slow circle around us, trying to be intimidating. “Eyes down!”
I drop my gaze to my toes, and my pulse speeds. What’s my best tactic here? I could look at Nova since she’s probably unlikely to look at me this first round, but who knows. I don’t want to take chances. My safest bet should be Max. There’s no way he’d be looking at me…except that he just was a second ago. Had he wanted to say something? Whisper an insult or threat? Now it’s too late to know.
“Glare!”
At the last second, I turn to my direct right and lookat Eileen, a trumpet player. Luckily, her gaze is elsewhere. Whew, one round down.
I make it through the next two rounds by looking at a freshman trombone player. But there’s an itching in the back of my brain each time I glare at the freshman’s cropped haircut. The telltale feeling of eyes on me. It makes sense thatsomeonewould be looking at me given the game, but this gaze feels heavy, as if I’m being touched instead of watched. I shake off the tension inching up my spine.
Greg circles behind me. “Eyes down!”
“Don’t look at Max unless you want to lose,” Nova whispers. She’s so quiet I can barely hear her.
“What?” I whisper back.
“He’s choosing you every round. Must be sabotage or something.”
“Glare!”
I jerk my eyes to Nova without thinking, but luckily she’s looking straight ahead. At Max, if I’m remembering where he’s standing. My heart races like we’re running laps rather than standing stock-still. Two more people step out of the circle, leaving just Max, Nova, and me, but I don’t even bother to notice who they were.
The next round is a draw. I look at Nova, Nova looks at Max, and Max looks at me, presumably. The next round is the same.
“We’re getting bored, Final Three,” Sire says into the microphone. “I’m not surprised to see some of our usual suspects at the end, but let’s finish this up. May the best playerwin.”
His words remind me of the Most Valuable Member award and set my thoughts spinning in a different direction. Even though that award is partially determined by band member votes, another weighted component is the votes from Sire and the assistant band director. I’m pretty sure I lost a lot of his respect when I lost that equipment shed key, but could this be a way to win it back? Would these games play a role in who they ultimately choose? Suddenly, it feels more important than ever to win this. I try to think through the others’ strategies, but my mind is garbled and the drum major is right behind me. I stare at my shoes and squeeze my hands into fists. Surely Max won’t keep choosing me every round, especially with Sire commanding us to switch itup?
“Glare!”
I swallow and lift my gaze to Max. His gray eyes are staring right back at me, wide and unblinking. My chest tightens and expands at the same moment, and I can’t breathe. Something in his expression shifts and I’m suddenly desperate to know what he’s thinking. Is he angry I finally chose to look at him, or is it something else? Nova screams in triumph next to me and the moment breaks.
“Congratulations, Nova! You’re on quite the roll,” Sire announces into the megaphone.
“Ahhh!” She jumps up and down excitedly. “I can’t believe I beat you both!”
Max winces and steps closer to me. “I didn’t realize she was as competitive as us.” He rubs a hand over his mouth.
“We’re best friends for a reason. She’s just better at hiding it.” I reach out to give her a hug, though I’m kicking myselffor giving her the win.Whydid I look at Max when I knew I could lose?
I guess I just couldn’t believe he’d be looking back.
My parents drop me off at the high school early Saturday morning for our second competition. The band buses are lined up, waiting for us to file on. There are also the huge band trailers filled with the pit instruments, color guard equipment, and everything else we’ll need for today. A few percussion players are pushing xylophones up a ramp into the trailer. Just seeing them reminds me of the bet once again, and I swallow tightly.
