‘Hey, Mia,’ Ethan says. He’s wearing a blue henley that hugs his shoulders and his hair is brushed back, letting his intense green eyes shine.
‘Ethan,’ I mumble, gravitating over to Oliver’s side.
‘Let’s get this over with so we can go and get pissed,’ Jenna mutters as Alice hands her a ticket. ‘The things we do for our friends.’
‘Y’all are crazy.’ Ethan gives them both a flashy grin as he accepts his ticket. ‘I was listening to the piece this afternoon, it’s sick. I can’t wait to hear what they do with it.’
Jenna shakes her head with disappointment. ‘No, Ethan, you’re sick. The last time Bryn dragged us out on a school night, we sat through two whole hours of experimental jazz written by a former student who bribed the orchestra to play it and not a single soul aside from us showed up. And no, I have not forgiven him, so thanks for asking.’
He ducks his head but not before I see the small smile playing on his lips and it’s totally infectious. Well, it is for me. Not so much for Jenna.
‘Can we please go and find our seats?’ she grumbles. ‘The sooner we get started, the sooner it’s over.’
There is a bar in the Goldbeck Theatre, but much to Jenna’s audible dismay, it is not open tonight. Instead, there’s a water fountain or orange juice, not exactly the most rock and roll night of our lives.
‘Good tutorial?’
I’m filling a paper cup with water when Ethan appears, turning his thousand-watt beam on me. Passing him the first cup, I pour myself another, eyes on Oliver.
‘How interested are you inThe Spanish Tragedyby Thomas Kyd?’
‘Super interested now I know it exists.’
‘Then it was fascinating. Next week we get to Christopher Marlowe, and he died in a bar room brawl so you know that’s going to be good. How was practice?’
‘Aced it.’
He downs the water, crushes the cup then tosses it into a trash can with a tidy lay-up shot. Exactly the kind of thing that would usually make me roll my eyes, and I do, but I can’t help but smile at the same time.
‘If by aced it, you mean you’re trying to kill us then I’m happyto confirm.’ Michael pops up over my shoulder and pours water for himself and Jenna, and I really, really wish I knew what was going on with the two of them but I don’t ask in case it’s awkward. If they wanted me to know, I’d know.
‘He’s whipping us into shape whether we like it or not. And just to be clear, I don’t like it. I’d be perfectly happy finishing the season mid-table if it means I don’t have to do ladder runs ever again.’
‘You’re a disgrace.’ Jenna shakes her head. ‘You should be ashamed to put on the Hemden goalkeeper shirt.’
‘I am. Navy blue is not in my colour palette according to you.’
‘It’s not my fault you’re an autumn.’
‘Okay, kids, move it along. I want to get good seats so we can see Bryn.’ Alice holds out her arms to move us all into the auditorium but it’s like herding cats. Michael cuts away to the bathrooms, Jenna turns back for more water and Oliver stands still, glowering at me and Ethan.
‘Where’s best to sit?’ I ask him, moving directly between the two of them before either of them can escalate things. ‘Front, middle or back?’
‘Centre middle for the best sound,’ he answers begrudgingly. ‘My band played here at the end of last term, end of year concert thing. I came in beforehand and tested the acoustics.’
‘You’re in a band?’ Ethan throws an arm around my shoulders and my eyes widen as I push it right off. ‘What kind of music do you play?’
‘It’s difficult to describe to someone without a musical background. I’d say a combination of post-industrial noise rock and folk punk.’
‘Huh?’
‘I wouldn’t expect you to get it.’ Oliver winks at me, like I’m in on whatever joke he’s making. ‘It’s pretty intellectual.’
Arms crossed, Ethan scoffs.
‘What’s the name of this intellectual post-industrial noise rock meets folk punk band?’
‘We play under my name.’
