Keep the Beat: A Band-Com for Romance Geeks

by Kata Čuić

  “Four a.m.”

  I breathe for a few minutes in peaceful silence, acutely aware even that small movement hurts more than my muscles did after the weight-lifting contest.

  Jimmy creeps in the door, crawling on his hands and knees until he’s sitting at my side. He brushes some of my sweat-caked hair away from my face. “I’m so sorry, Soph. I never meant for this to happen.”

  “I don’t care.” And in this moment, I truly don’t.

  Jimmy could tell me he hates me, he loves me, he’s sorry for everything he’s ever done, he’s going to do whatever it takes to get head drum major, and I just … wouldn’t care.

  He peels me off the cold, dingy tile floor and hoists me up into his arms.

  “Yes, you do. You do care,” he insists. “And you can spend the rest of the day thinking of a way to get back at me. I won’t even retaliate. Give me your best shot, Sophie. I’ll take it.”

  My best shot is protesting when he lays me down in what I’m guessing is his bed. Completely naked. “Take me back to my room. I wanna be with Shannon.”

  “Not right now, you don’t.” He chuckles. “Jake’s in her room, too. Besides, you’re not sleeping on the floor in a shitty pile of old blankets after what you’ve been through. You deserve to be comfortable, and if you need anything, I’ll be right here.”

  “I’m not comfortable. I wanna go to my pile of gross, old blankets.” I am not competing, and I’m not lying. I am really not comfortable here. “I’m going to shit in your bed.”

  That’s not competing either. It’s just an honest warning.

  “That’s a pretty good clapback.” He grins at me, strokes my cheek, then pulls the blankets up over my shoulders to cover my quivering body. “But you can do better than that. Get some rest, and when you wake up, I’m sure you’ll come up with plenty of good ideas.”

  I won’t, I won’t, I won’t, I chant to myself until I fall asleep again.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The clock on my phone reads six a.m. There’s no way anyone in the house is awake yet on a Monday morning.

  As quietly as possible, I creep from my hiding place for the past twenty-four hours—my pile of blankets on Shannon’s bedroom floor. God bless her for keeping her room off-limits to anyone and everyone. She knew I couldn’t face them without me saying a word. I still don’t know how I’m going to face them, but it’s the first day of classes then we have band practice tonight. I’ve got a little more time to pull my tail from between my legs.

  I silently pack all my things into my duffel bags then fold the blankets into a neat pile. Shannon can deliver my pillow to me later.

  Showering is unavoidable noise. The pipes in this old house scream like a banshee even if the water pressure is only a trickle. It’s my third since the night that shall never be spoken of, and I still don’t feel clean enough. I’m not going to campus, smelling like a rabid opossum that got stuck in a trash can for days.

  I crack the bathroom door open and listen. Total quiet. It’s only a very small mercy that I haven’t broken my cover. Every careful step down the two-story stairwell could make or break me. Why are old houses so loud?

  I breathe a deep sigh of relief when I hit the main-floor landing. Escape is only a living room away.

  Just when I think I’m in the clear, a head pops out of the kitchen doorway, wearing way too bright a smile for the early hour.

  At least it’s not Jimmy.

  “You’re awake! Hey, everyone,” Nate calls over his shoulder, “Sophia’s up!”

  Everyone? Oh, God. Why couldn’t I have died that night? Death would have been better than this.

  He tugs me into the kitchen where a flurry of activity does not jive with what is typical college student behavior so early in the morning on the first day of classes. Shannon pulls a pitcher of orange juice from the fridge, Jimbo’s frying something at the stove, Jake is manning the toaster, and Tim walks right up to me and throws his arms around my shoulders. My backpack thumps to the floor as he squeezes me so hard that my eyes feel like they’re going to pop out of the sockets.

  “You’re alive. We were so worried.”

  Jake pries Tim away, only to take his place. “We’re so sorry, Soph.”

  Why is Jake sorry? He didn’t do anything. And why were they worried? They had to know I hadn’t died in their bathroom.

  Nate leads me to the kitchen table, pulls out a chair, and gently presses me into it. “Here, sit. Relax. We’re making you breakfast. Everything you need to get your strength back up.”

  If it wasn’t so utterly mortifying, and I wasn’t still probably dehydrated, I would cry. A little from gratitude, mostly from embarrassment.

  “Shannon, you didn’t have to put them up to this. I’m not really hungry anyway.” Still might never eat again.

  She thumps the juice on the table and raises an eyebrow at me. She’s not nearly as smiley as the guys in the room. “Oh, I tried to talk him out of it, but instead, I got blackmailed into finding out what time you set your alarm for.”

  Nate seems like the ringleader of this operation.

  I glance up at him. “What did you blackmail her with?”

  Jake scoffs from his position at the toaster. “He said he’d tell the entire trumpet section what her orgasms sounded like.”

  I never knew Nate had such a dark side. I gape at him in horror. “You wouldn’t.”

  “No,” he agrees, “I wouldn’t. Jimbo would though. At least, I’m pretty sure he’s not bluffing.”

  Jimbo snickers at the stove.

  “It’s not funny, you asshole,” Shannon shouts at him.

  He pins her with a deadpan expression. “No, it’s not. I never needed to hear that sound in my entire life. It’s like a velociraptor mating with a seagull. Why don’t you two do it in Jake’s room? You know, the one that’s on the other end of the hall?”

  “No way.” Nate shakes his head. “They’re not doing it in our room.”

  “We’re gonna do it in the living room,” Jake threatens them with a butter knife waving in the air. “And we’re gonna bring down the rafters when I’m through wringing her out.”

  I shudder at his words. No more wringing out. None. Ever.

  “No!” the rest of the guys all shout in unison, covering their ears like it’s going to happen right now.

  Shannon points at Jake. “You are never getting laid again.”

  “Why am I getting yelled at? Jimbo’s the biggest asshole in this room!”

  I never want to hear the words asshole, shit, or anything else related to butts ever again in my life.

  Jimmy squats at my side, sliding a plate of food under my nose. The smell alone curdles my stomach. “I am. I’m a complete and total asshole, but I’m gonna make it up to you. Even if you’re not very hungry, just eat what you can. We’ve got practice tonight. If you don’t want this or anything else we have in the kitchen, I’ll go get whatever you want.”

  They woke up early and went to all this trouble, so I don’t want to seem like a complete jerk. “Thanks, everyone. Really. If I thought I could eat, this would be great.”

  Jimmy drops his chin to his chest for a beat, takes a deep breath, then lifts his head with a smile. “You wanna throw this pile of food in my face? That’ll make you feel better.”

  “I really don’t.”

  “You’ve gotta eat something,” he argues. “You can’t go all day with an empty stomach.”

  “I’m just going to grab a protein shake when I get to campus.”

  “Soph,” he starts gently. “Our first class isn’t even ’til ten.”

  “I know. I’m going to campus now.”

  “Okay.” He pops his eyebrows like he isn’t surprised I’m being difficult then straightens to his full height. “Let me get my keys. I’ll drive you. If you wanna hang out in the library until class, then I’ll stay with you.”

  “I’m not going to the library. I’m going to check into my hotel.”

  “What?” the
y all whine at roughly the same time.

  “You can’t leave! We have all the drum majors under one roof!” Tim says.

  Nate adds, “It was an accident! We swear, we’ll take better care of you at parties from now on. Don’t go!”

  “I will not go into Shan’s room even once while you’re here,” Jake promises.

  I would never ask Shannon to give up what sounds like a great sex life.

  “You’re right. I don’t feel well. As much as I’m grateful you let me crash here, I don’t want to sleep on the floor all week. It’s no big deal. The secretary at the leasing company said my apartment should be ready by Sunday.”

  “Take my bed again,” Jimmy offers. “You don’t have to sleep on the floor. Besides, that way, you can have full access to my room and do all kinds of things to get back at me.”

  “I’m not going to get back at you, Jimmy.”

  “Stop calling me Jimmy!” he yells, a little panicked before he calms himself. “You just need another day to bounce back, that’s all. You’ll feel fine by tomorrow. When you’re ready and plotting away, you’ll call me James again, and then everything will go back to normal.”

  “I’m never going to call you James again.” I don’t want him thinking my behavior is just a front for another stupid competition. “There’s no more war. It’s over.”

  He plasters his hands to his face, then he lowers them and pins me with a hard glare. “You don’t mean that. You said it yourself, the whole band gets weirded out without the war. They’ve been conditioned to expect it. We still have a week to go in the voting, and you wouldn’t do anything to hurt your chances.”

  “I’m not going to do anything to hurt my chances.” I rise from my chair. “I’m not going to do anything to hurt any of our chances, but I’m not competing against anyone except myself. I’ll be the best drum major I can be, and you guys should do the same. If you want to play dirty against each other, I can’t stop you. But leave me out of it, okay?”

  “We’re not going to play dirty,” Nate promises.

  “A fair fight to the finish line,” Jake agrees.

  “You hate to be left out,” Jimmy reminds me. “You love competition. Especially against me.”

  “Not anymore. I was already done before I ever had a sip of that drink. I just didn’t get to tell you.” I cross the room and hoist my backpack onto my shoulder. “If you need someone to compete with, I know a guy.”

  “Oh, we’re gonna get Jared back,” Tim promises. “Don’t you worry about that.”

  Even though I’m changing my ways, after what Jared put me through? Yeah, I’d still like to see Karma get him somehow in some way. “Just don’t do anything stupid to get kicked out of band. I’ll see you guys tonight at practice.”

  Jimmy takes a step forward. “Sophie, don’t go.”

  I don’t pause, and I don’t look back.

  Shannon knows I need the time to pull myself together.

  I hear her being the best friend a girl could ever have as I make my way to the front door. “Let her go, Jim.”

  “I can’t!” he shouts. “I’m running out of time! I can’t give her a whole week to get her head on straight again!”

  I shake my head, which feels pretty straight as I head out into the chilly morning air. He’ll get used to the change. At the end of the week, one of us will be voted as head drum major, and then there won’t be anything to compete over. The ITK parties will continue as scheduled; he’ll find some more toys to play with and by then … everyone will be used to the new normal.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Someone actually put up a makeshift scoreboard in the band room. Judging by the tallies, Jimbo is in the lead by a slim margin over me. Poor Tim is in last place. And these aren’t even official votes being counted.

  This is not good for band morale. We’re supposed to be a tight-knit family, not a bunch of warring politicians running smear campaigns and debating over stupid things that don’t even have any relevancy to the season. I get Dr. Kimball’s rationale for trying to instill in us a sense of responsibility and ownership over our band, but this isn’t the way to do it. And even though I agree there’s no place for hazing here, we still need something to bond over. Something that’s just for us and has no relation to the football team winning or losing every week.

  The staff are holed up in their offices in meetings and prepping this week’s practice schedule. Bandies aren’t required to report for another hour, and I have nowhere else to be. So, I get comfortable and settle in to write a list of suggestions to take up with Dr. Kimball. I vaguely remember some of the ideas the saxophones had when we played cards at the party Saturday night.

  I’m three pages into a list of what I think are great ideas when the other drum majors begin to arrive. We’re supposed to report a half hour early.

  “What do you think about monthly band dinners?” I ask Tim.

  As soon as he sees the scoreboard, his expression falls. This might be a good distraction and give him a sense that his input still matters.

  He plops down in the chair beside me. “Like everyone meeting up at one of the dining halls to eat together once a month? Most of the sections do that already.”

  “I know, which is why I think we should try to schedule them for the whole band and make it a bit different than the sectional dinners. I was talking with some of the saxes at the party, and not everyone thinks these drum major competitions are a good enough replacement for the rookie-initiation ritual.”

  “Well, I agree with that,” Nate says as he joins us. “What we did at camp was just stupid. The bandies looked bored out of their minds for half of it.”

  I point my pen at him. “The section leaders didn’t really have enough time to plan something better. Shannon said they’re already putting their heads together for next year, so hopefully, whatever they come up with will be more interactive for everyone.”

  “Who cares about next year?” Jake plops his backpack down then collapses into a chair like he just ran a marathon. “We won’t even be here.”

  “I care,” I admit. “Just because I’m a senior doesn’t mean I don’t have friends who won’t be graduating for several years. I’d like to leave them in a good place, if not better than when we were rookies.”

  Tim shakes his head. “This is why you should be head drum major. You are a band geek to your very core.”

  I hate that this stupid contest is making anyone feel badly about themselves. “We’re all band geeks to our very cores. Why else did you guys stay in band until senior year of college then audition for drum major at all?”

  Jake shrugs. “I did it for the ladies.”

  “I’m telling Shannon you said that.” Nate grins.

  Jake looks at him like he’s stupid. “She’s a lady. I met her in band. This only proves I made a good choice. Twice.”

  Aww, he thinks my BFF is a good choice! I officially ship it now. What should their ship name be? Jannon. Shake! Oh my God, I dub them Shake!

  Nate waves his hand in front of my face. “Why are you shaking like a leaf? Did you not even drink the protein shakes you promised us you would get today?”

  I tamp it down. Somehow, I don’t think Jake would share my excitement. “No, no. I’m fine now. Really. I have a great idea though.”

  “Well, spit it out already,” Nate says, narrowing his eyes just slightly. “I’m a little afraid you’ve finally recovered enough to get back at Jimbo, and I want to know what kind of nuclear meltdown we’re about to deal with.”

  “I am not getting caught in that fallout the way you got mixed up in the beef between Jimbo and Jared.” Tim raises his hands. “I’m very happy with the truce. I think we should all stick to that.”

  “We are sticking to that,” I promise him. “And we’re sticking together, and we’re not going to stick it to our band just because we’re not going to be around next year.”

  “Well?” Jake makes a get on with it motion.

  “Let’s come u
p with more ideas to replace the hazing. To replace the competitions between groups in the band. We need something else to bring the whole band together, something everyone can participate in and feel like they’re part of a family beyond the rush we get from performing as a large group on the field.” This might be my best idea yet, and even though it is sort of a competition, it’s something to benefit us all. “Each of us comes up with an idea, and then we use that as our campaign platform for the rest of the week to get votes.”

  Tim doesn’t look convinced. “So, what? We’re just gonna spitball ideas here for the next twenty minutes then draw straws to see who has to campaign the best or the worst idea?”

  “I thought you weren’t competing with anyone but yourself anymore?” Jimbo raises his eyebrows as he approaches the table with a large bouquet of flowers gripped in his hand like he wants to strangle them. “Or is this just your way of leaving me out in the cold, so you can get a leg up on me?”

  He sounds so hopeful. So hopefully annoying.

  He’s been following me around all day to all of our shared classes, and it is wearing me down. I should be grateful he’s genuinely sorry for what happened and enjoying this change for the better in his behavior, but instead, I’m struggling not to scream at him to leave me the fuck alone. I just want him to go away. I do not want to deal with him anymore. Not even a little.

  I close my eyes for a beat and inhale a deep breath, trying to channel even an ounce of the yoga I do not have time to practice on a regular basis. When I open my eyes again, I am calm. I am peaceful. I have relegated all my old ways of imagining his slow, torturous demise to the void where they belong. My centered mind has no room for memories of orgasmic dancing either. Everything is Zen. “I’m not competing with you anymore, Jimmy.”

  He squints his eyes and thrusts the bouquet at me. “Here. These are for you.”

  I have no choice but to accept them in the calmest manner. I also have no idea what I’m going to do with them since I do not have a vase in my hotel room. “Thanks. You didn’t have to do that. It was a mistake. I get it. I’m fine now.”