“I did too,” Max says.
“YouknowI did,” I tell her. “No competition—and not because you’re the only freshman in guard this year.”
“Without hesitation,” Felix adds. His expression is affectionate and brings me an extra surge of happiness. The only downside is that Max is never going to shut up about his matchmaking abilities.
“I…” She glances around the room with tears in her eyes. “I can’t believe you all did that. Did you get together and plan it?”
We all shake our heads. “No planning needed when it’s the objective truth,” I say.
She swallows and wipes at her eyes. It makes my heart so full to see her like this, though it’s only what she deserves. “Thank you all. I mean, I definitely won’t get it, but knowing I have your four votes means a lot to me.”
She’s being too humble. I know for a fact that she has more than our four votes. The entire guard is voting for her, no questions asked, and I’d be shocked if Felix wasn’t lobbying some of the percussion section as well, though he hasn’t said anything. But I’ve noticed Li talking to a few of the younger percussion players, Jamila in particular. Maybe this next generation won’t carry on the animosity from our year. I think she has a real shot.
There’s an awkward pause. Usually, we might go on toannounce who else we voted for, but it’s a lot harder when Nova, Max, and I are all up for senior member. I’ve been struggling for the last week trying to decide who to vote for. I feel guilty, and might take the secret to the grave, but ultimately I voted for Nova over Max. It’s not that he doesn’t deserve it—I’d argue we each deserve it—but Nova has been a loyal, talented player for all four years, and she’s never won a thing. She doesn’t bring it up, but I’m sure she wants it. And Max will have (almost) the entire percussion section to give him votes, plus every girl in the band holding on to their crush on him.
“Actually, I have something for each of you,” Li says and lifts her bag. She pulls out a handful of papers and glances at them shyly. “I finished your character sketches.” She hands one to each of the players, and it’s comically adorable how their faces each light up with joy when they take a look. Nova screams with excitement, which makes Zoinks bark, and then the whole table laughs.
“Li, these are incredible.Lookat Stump and Zelda together!” Nova says and brandishes the paper so we can see it.
“Um, Nova?” I blink at her in shock. “Are you crying?” I’m not sure I’ve seen Nova cry once in all the years I’ve known her.
“No. I mean…not really.” She wipes her eyes. “I’ve just tried to imagine what Zelda would look like in the game, but I’m not very visual, and this is…It’s more perfect than I could have imagined.”
Li is also looking teary-eyed now, and if I’m not careful then they’re going to make me cry. Li gives her a hug and Nova squeezes her back so hard she might pop Li’s head off.
“Axolotl has never looked so cool,” Max says appreciatively. “Seriously, thank you for doing this.”
“You’rereallytalented. You should do more with your art,” Felix says seriously, his expression almost imploring, and Li glances down at her hands.
“Oh, well, it was nothing. Just something fun to do in the evenings between homework. Hazel”—she turns to me—“you don’t have a real character, but I thought you might enjoy this.”
She hands me a sheet of paper. On it is a girl who has my curly hair, but is wearing a billowing green robe, pointed green hat, and holding a flag pole rather than a wizard’s staff. I remember the way Li described me as a wizard during our color guard sectional dinner here—she’s captured the idea perfectly.
“Ahhh, Li! I’m getting a frame for it and hanging it in my room.”
“Same,” Nova says. “I barely want to touch it, I’m scared of ruining it somehow.”
“And now we know how each of our characters look, so that’ll help with role-playing,” Max adds. “Speaking of…” He glances at me.
“Max and I got the idea that everyone should have a miniature of their character for the game,” I add. “They still need to be painted and we haven’t made much progress yet, but these portraits should help out immensely.”
“That’s awesome,” Nova says.
“And we’ll need to find a miniature Zelda—the shop didn’t have anything that gave off his floppy-tongued energy,” Maxsays.
“Or his floofy fur.”
“I’ll do some searching,” Nova replies.
“Well, we better start. You all need to get back to hunting down this wizard,” I say.
We gather around the table, and I’m almost giddy that I get to use some of what I came up with for our dungeon crawl.
“After your progress through the forest during the last session, you now find yourselves outside of an enormous cave. The entrance is as tall as the second floor of the citadel you just came from. You see tracks on the ground, some mounds that give off a stench like rotting meat, and not much else. It’s silent, almost eerie.”
“What kind of tracks are they?” Max asks.
“Zelda sniffs around the cave as if he’s very suspicious. Can I roll a survival check to learn more about the tracks?” Nova asks.
