Dissonance and Harmony

It's third period.  Band.  My most and least favorite class.  Most favorite because, well it’s fun (yes, band geek here).  My least favorite because of Carter Moore.

Carter and I have a love/hate relationship.  I love him, he hates me.  Worst part is that we both play brass instruments (me: trombone, him: baritone) and, because our high school is so small, we sit next to each other.  The smell of his cologne mixes with the music everyday, but the chill temperature from him sometimes requires a winter coat.

Ok, it’s not really that bad.  But it feels that way to someone who has had a crush on the same guy since middle school.

Carter and I are one year apart in school.  I saw him my first day of sixth grade and he has made my heart race since then.  Now he's a senior and I'm a junior, but nothing has changed.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve gone out with other guys, had boyfriends, but Carter has always had some sway over me.

      Our rocky relationship started in sixth grade.  My cousin, Jess, is the same age as Carter.  She volunteered to tell him that I like him.  After much agonizing, I let her.  Though he was very sweet to Jess in explaining that he was dating someone, his dickhead friend, Patrick, took it upon himself to make my life miserable.  That went on until my freshman year of high school.

      Since then, Carter and I have developed an aquaintance-ship.  It happens when you sit next to each other everyday.  Between Jax (the other trombone player), Carter, and me, we have had several good laughs at the expense of our band director (sorry Mr. Lark!).  We actually have a lot of things in common between TV shows and music.  We aren’t friends, but we do talk.

     But I‘m so anxious when I talk to him that I fall back to my default of defensiveness and sarcasm.  Sometimes, I'm a real bitch, but I can’t stop it.  God, I’m an idiot.

      As I enter the band room, I walk past Carter and a group of his friends.  He is so freaking hot.  The height of 90s fashion with his short, dark russet hair gelled to the side, a white “A”-shirt under an unbuttoned blue and white checked shirt and JNCO jeans.  He’s tall, 6 feet.  Making him 6 inches taller than me.  Carter is lean, with a muscular build from track and tennis.  His slate gray eyes shine as he laughs at a joke that Patrick (dickhead) made.  I can smell his cologne as I start to pass the group to get to the instrument room.  *Fuuu-uuuck* this guy just did it for me.

“Hey, Ryan,” I hear as I pass by.  I turn to see Carter smiling at me, while his friends watch and giggle.

      “Hey, Carter,” I mumble.  I try to smile, but it probably comes off as more of a grimace.  I hurry past, hearing Patrick (dickhead) guffaw.  When I look back, Carter is watching me.  There’s a look on his face.  Disappointment?  Frustration?  What was that?  Probably my imagination.

      I walk into the instrument room and see my best friends: Jess (aforementioned cousin), Ayo, and Lucy.  All three play the flute and I see them chatting and putting their instruments together.

      “Hey, chica,” Ayo says.  Since that girl started taking Spanish two years ago, the language has peppered her speech.  At first it was weird, but now it was just Ayo.

      “Hey, girl,” I call, smiling over my shoulder and head towards my instrument cubby.  I throw in my books, quickly assemble my trombone, and walk over to my friends.  

“Hey, guys,” I say.

      “Hey, Ryan,” Jess says. 

Lucy does a little finger wave.  “What’s going on?”

      “Nothing much,” I say.  “Carter said hi to me when I walked in.”  Just thinking about it makes me blush a deep shade of red and sigh.

      “Carter, again?  Tu eres loca,” Ayo says.

      “When are you going to ask him out already?” Lucy says.

      “I can’t do that!” I shudder at the mere thought.

     “Says who?” Jess questions.  “It’s the 90s, baby.  Women’s lib and all that.  You can do whatever you want.  I can even help get the ball rolling.”  She waggles her eyebrows up and down, making Ayo and Lucy laugh.

      “Oh, yeah, that worked out so well last time,” I say, drily.

      “Girl, that was forever ago.  You’re a junior now and he’s a senior.  Shit has changed,” Jess says.

      “The answer is no,” I say.  Just then, the bell rings, signalling the time for us to take our seats.

      “Whatever,” Jess says, rolling her eyes.

      We all walk out of the instrument room and head to our seats.

“Alright, alright.  Settle down.  We’ve got some new music to pass out,” Mr. Lark says.

      I sit in my seat next to Jax.  “Hey, man."

      “Hey, Ryan,” Jax says.  “Good day?”

      “Same old, same old,” I say. “You?”

      “Ain’t no thang but a chicken wing.”

I laugh.  “Seriously, dude.  Nobody really says that.”

“I do.”  Jax smiles.  “People just haven’t caught up to my awesomeness.”

“Whatever, man,” I laugh again.

Just then, Carter sits down on my other side.

“What’s up?” he says, smiling.

“Hey,” I say, breathily.  I know I sounded like a besotted idiot.  Stupid, stupid, stupid.  Get it together, Ryan.

His smile inches up a little higher and I quickly turn away.  I hear him chuckle beside me as he settles into his seat.   God, just let the ground open up and swallow me whole.

That’s when Jaime Collier walks up with sheet music for our row.

Let me take a moment to talk about Jaime Collier.  She looks like a more voluptuous Katie Holmes from Dawson’s Creek.  Her dark, wavy, chestnut hair reaches to just below her shoulders and her skin is flawless.  Seriously, what teenager has skin that looks that amazing?  Jaime Collier, that’s who.  I never talk to her.  Jaime is too popular, too untouchable.  Oh, and the kicker is that she was the girl that  Carter was dating back in sixth grade and has been his best friend ever since they broke up.  Uuuugggghhh.

     “Hey, Carter.  Hey, Ryan.” Jaime calls as she sets down the sheet music to sort it out.

Me?  Jaime Collier just spoke to me?  Heh?

“Hey, Jaime,” Carter says.

“Uuuhh, hi,” I say, definitely puzzled.  I look over to Jax for some back up, but he is talking to someone down the row.  Looks like I’m on my own here.

“How’s it going, Ryan?”  Jaime says, smiling brightly at me.  Carter turns in my direction with an interested look on his face.  Ok, what’s going on?

Suspiciously, I answer, “Fine.  How are you?”

“Great,” Jaime says, smiling brightly.  She looks towards Carter and he gives her a small nod.  Jaime turns back to me.  “So, hey, some of us are going to the diner today after school.  Wanna come?”