Inevitably Yours

QUINN

“Excellent!” our director called from behind us. As we improved through the year, the band director would start stepping aside to let the rhythm section drive us through our setlist. We were running through our dress rehearsal before our biggest performance of the year, Italian Night.

Every year, the Jazz Band would sell tickets to Italian Night. Band kids would serve a pasta dinner while the Jazz Band played live music for everyone, pausing for an auction in the middle of the evening. It was one of the largest fundraisers of the year. There was even a tradition for face-offs of improv solos. Luckily for me, the director had decided not to give me another improv solo after finding out I actually wrote and memorized an eight-bar melody the last time I was assigned one. Instead, he had asked me to play the special instruments that cropped up in our pieces, like clarinet and oboe.

“Alright!” he said, coming around to the front of the room. “I want to run the piece with the clarinet solo for Quinn, then I will announce who will be competing tonight.” I changed my sheet music and set my sax on the ground to get my clarinet. “Remember, whoever collects the most for their solo gets their spring trip paid for by the band. Last year’s winner collected $240, narrowly beating out their opponent with $227.”

Everyone started clapping, and the trombone player who won last year smiled confidently. I blew warm air threw my clarinet as the director calmed everyone down. The rhythm section was counted in, and we continued practice.

–

With only two hours between dress rehearsal and call time, I decided to stay at school. I left the band room and headed to my locker to grab my backpack and clothes for the performance. As I walked down the main hallway of the school, the gym teacher was coming toward me.

“Miss Samuels,” he said, grabbing my attention.

“Hi, Coach Thompson,” I said.

“I was hoping to find you soon,” he said. “I had something to talk to you about.”

“Me?” I asked, confused.

“Yes, I was speaking with Mr. Ganbar, and he recommended you,” he answered.

“For what?” I couldn’t imagine how I could help the gym teacher.

“I’m sorry. I should back up. I am the sprinting coach for the track team. We are in need of a record keeper to help out at track meets,” he clarified.

I pointed to my face. “Me?” I asked.

He smiled. “Yes, from what I hear, you are rather good at scorekeeping, and this would be far easier than wrestling. We just need someone to record times as the team members finish. We have scorekeepers for the jumping and throwing events but no one for the runners.”

“Uh, how often are track meets?”

“About once a week for two months. First one is two weeks from now,” Coach Thompson answered.

“Can I think about it?”

“Of course. Your parents will need to sign a permission slip, too. We could really use some help.”

“I will let you know,” I told him. He waved goodbye, and I continued to my locker. After I collected my stuff, my phone started ringing.

“Hey!” I answered.

“Someone doesn’t sound nervous,” Michael laughed.

“Nope,” I smiled. “Maybe some normal butterflies.”

“I’m sure you’ll do awesome,” he said. I headed back toward the band room, aiming myself toward the bathroom so I could change.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Heading to work then the gym,” he answered. “Wishing I was listening to a pretty, blue-haired girl play some jazz.”

My cheeks flushed at his comment. “I don’t even play anything super important,” I told him.

“I don’t care,” he insisted.

“How’s work going?” I asked, changing the subject. I headed into the bathroom and went to put my bag down on the counter space to the side. I started pulling out my performance clothes.

“It is what it is,” he sighed.

“No, no, no. Don’t get all sad. We talked about this. You have to be optimistic. Everything will work out,” I scolded him. He chuckled softly.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied. “I hate that I am saying this, but I have to clock in.”

“I want to see proof of a smile before you do!” I demanded.

“Alright, anything you say.”

“Bye, M,” I smiled.

“Knock ‘em dead, Blue.” The line cut off, but I was still smiling. Talking to Michael always put me in just as good of a mood as spending time with Jaxx. My phone buzzed with a message, and I opened it to find Michael smiling as he awkwardly took a picture of himself.

MECòntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org

| that’s a winning smile

–

“I told you not to buy a ticket!” I said, my grin giving away my excitement. My back was to the wall of lockers, and Jaxx stood in front of me, leaving only inches between us.

“Haven’t you learned yet? I am really not good at following directions,” he laughed. His thumb skimmed my cheek lightly. “Plus, the spaghetti is supposed to be amazing.”

“Well, I warned you if it’s terrible,” I giggled. Jaxx looked down at me sweetly.

“Maybe I’ll have my dessert first then,” he smirked, taking a step closer. His mouth captured mine, and the smile didn’t leave my lips as we kissed. I knew anyone could walk by, but I didn’t care; I was happy he was here. His hands started to roam, squeezing and kneading at my curves. I wrapped my arms around his neck, shifting to my tip toes.

“We should bail,” he said in a husky voice as we parted.

“You know I can’t do that,” I said.

“Maybe I’ll ask your parents if I can take you out after this,” he suggested.

“Jaxx, it’s a school night, and this will run pretty late. There is no way they agree to that,” I told him.

“We’ll see,” he smirked.

“Ahem,” someone cleared their throat. I froze; Jaxx turned his head to look, but his shoulder blocked me. “Quinn needs to get to her seat. Warm-ups are started,” I heard Tommy say. He was one of the volunteers serving food.

Jaxx nodded, then turned back to me. He kissed my forehead and then stepped back. I looked toward where Tommy just was, but he had already returned the way he came. I could hear basic arpeggios echoing through the hall from the central rotunda. “I should go,” I said.

–

The crowd clapped as we finished up our second song. Even though everyone was seated around 2-6 person tables, all the attention was on us, not the dinner. I scanned the room, looking for Jaxx and my parents. My dad purchased tickets for him and my mom, but I hadn’t gotten to look for them before we began. Almost everyone was seated with their food as the director prepared us to start the next song.

Halfway through the song, I found Jaxx. His gaze connected with mine, and I wished more than anything I could link him right then. Without making it too obvious, I darted my eyes back and forth, trying to see if he knew where my parents were. He looked around and must have understood what I was asking. He shook his head and shrugged.

My phone was back in the band room with my stuff. We weren’t allowed to bring them into the performance. Not knowing where my parents were, I had no idea if I could link them.

“Don’t panic. Maybe we can’t see them. Wait until the intermission and look,” Sapphire tried to say.

I was getting distracted when I should have been focused on the performance. Next up was my clarinet solo. I switched from my sax to my clarinet and started to ready my instrument while our director distracted the crowd with thanks for joining us.

“s**t,” I whispered.

“What?” the trombone player next to me asked.

“My reed is cracked. I don’t have spare worn in,” I answered.

“I don’t know what that means,” he said.

“Squeak squeak,” I sighed.

“Well, don’t do that!” he hissed.

–

I packed my things into my cubby and closed the cage door. I scooped up my backpack and Jaxx’s hoodie and headed out of the band room, avoiding talking to anyone. That was one of the worst performances of my life.

During the intermission, I searched all around for my parents. I couldn’t find them anywhere, and my phone was locked in the band room, so I couldn’t call them either. When we finished our performance, I went straight to my bag to get my phone. I had a missed call from both my parents with voicemails. Someone got hurt at my mom’s work and needed help getting to the hospital. My brother got in trouble at school, so my dad had to leave work early to pick him up. Then my grandma wasn’t feeling well, so there was no one to watch my little brother so that my dad could come. Both their messages ended with wishes of luck and promises of making it up next time.

When I met Jaxx outside the band room, I was ready to just run off and hide. “Hey,” he said, pulling me close. “Don’t do that.”

“Can we just go?” I asked, trying to keep the burning tears at bay.

“Yea, come on,” he said, grabbing my hand.

When we got out to his truck, he opened the door for me and took my bag to put in the back. When he got in the car, I scooted close to him and laid my head on his shoulder. “Do you want to go home?” he asked softly.

“I guess,” I answered.

“We could just drive if you don’t want to. I can take the blame with your parents,” he offered.

“No, I should go home,” I sighed. Jaxx wound his arm around me, keeping it there while he drove. Silence hung heavy around us. I wanted to curl up and cry; Jaxx was trying to figure out how to make me less sad.

“I’m sorry, babe,” he whispered as we pulled down my road.

“You shouldn’t be apologizing. I just don’t get it,” I whispered.

Jaxx parked, and I didn’t move at first. He lifted my face to his. “Go in there and be sad tonight, but tomorrow, I want my normal girlfriend back. I don’t like you like this.”

I closed my eyes and nodded. Jaxx pecked my lips. We got out of his car, and he grabbed my bag. With one last k**s and a lingering hug, I headed inside. My dad was in his chair, and my mom nowhere in sight. I kicked my shoes off in the foyer and went right for the stairs.

“How did it go?” my dad asked, halting me.

“Fine, I guess,” I answered.

“Did you play the one with that solo you were working on?” he asked.

I couldn’t look at him. I just stood on the stairs, looking at the next step. “Mmmhmm. I’m tired. I have a permission slip I need you to sign before I go to school tomorrow, though.”

“Okay,” he said. “Night, Quinny.”

“Night,” I said as I started running up the stairs. I entered my room, hastily shutting my door and throwing my bag down. I quickly stripped out of my dress clothes and pulled on some cotton shorts and Jaxx’s hoodie. I crawled into bed, cradling my phone to my chest.

I closed my eyes and tried to will the world around me to fade away for a while. My phone went off in my hand. With a sigh, I checked it.

MICHAEL