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Shelly listened to her students gushing after the concert as they made their way back to the band room, adrenaline at an all-time high.
She smiled, threading her hands behind her back. “Now imagine how that would feel on the field, during a competition.”
Kelsey, one of her juniors, frowned. “But we’re so bad.”
“And yet, you saw what happens when we practice,” Shelly replied. “All we have to do is apply that same drive on the field.”
Kelsey looked at Ron and Gloria, the three of them having some kind of silent exchange as they eyed one another.
Shelly slowed behind them. “What is it?”
“Well, we were wondering,” Kelsey started, then her words drifted off, her cheeks flushing.
Ron swallowed, nervously pressing the keys of the saxophone still looped around his neck.
Gloria swallowed, then tucked her piccolo underneath her arm and crossed them, facing Shelly. “Would it be all right if we hosted captain practices next year? Before real practice?”
Shelly raised a brow, trying to look composed, even though her heart was racing. Captain practices. They’re finally taking things seriously. “What would that entail?”
“Extra exercise to work on endurance,” Kelsey blurted out. “Extra practice time for parts that are sticky that we can’t seem to nail down during practice.”
“Gives anyone struggling more time,” Ron added. “We’ll keep an eye on everyone, make sure they’re not burning out.”
“We’ll probably want to run through our formations on the field as well,” Gloria tacked on. “Just to make sure we’re ready.”
She smiled at Gloria, feeling confident in the decision to make her next season’s drum major. Kelsey was also a go-getter, with lots of spunk and authority, perfect for handling the brass section that was typically way too full of male-dominated energy. Then there was Ron as the woodwind captain, the softer of three, a perfect complement to their duo. Even now he handled this conversation with care.
She nodded. “Can I ask what brought all of this on?”
Gloria eyed the other two. “Well, we might have looked you up and found some high school marching band videos…”
Shelly perked up. “You watched my band?”
Jake, she thought. They watched me. And Jake.
“Yeah, damn, you guys were so good,” Kelsey rushed out.
Shelly raised a brow at her, warning her to watch her language. Kelsey flushed, then nodded.
“We want to be just as good,” Ron added.
“But we’re not going to get there unless we have extra practice time. We want to be the best. Better than Mariner’s Cove,” Gloria emphasized.
“I think it’s a great idea,” Shelly said calmly, ensuring her smile didn’t look too overenthusiastic. She’d learned the hard way: students weren’t so keen on doing something if the teacher showed too much eagerness.
She gestured her hand toward the band room. “We can talk more about it toward the end of the year, when we start planning the band season.”
The three of them looked pleased as they made their way down the music wing, to their main domain. As they opened the door, Shelly expected the students to be rambunctious, on that familiar after-concert high.
But the room was eerily silent as they stepped in, and it didn’t take much for Shelly to figure out why.
The inside of the room was filled to the brim with red heart balloons.
Shelly sighed. “All right, joke’s over. Happy Valentine’s Day to us all. Now who did this?”
She scanned the crowd, waiting for someone to step forward, or at least giggle conspicuously enough to give themselves away.
Yet none of the students budged, their eyes on the shiny red balloons, some of them reaching up to poke them with trumpets and clarinets, sending other balloons ricocheting across the room.
