KwaS
Synopsis
A spoonful of comedy and a pinch of tragedy make for an unmistakeable dose of middle school in epic, end-of-the-world, life-ruining proportions. This story is about three friends just trying to survive the eighth grade, and each other.
Excerpt
"I can't believe you aren't dropping it," said Abrianna.
"I told you that it sounds like a good opportunity."
"Really are you going to become some famous performer if offered the chance, because I don't think you would be able to hack it up there with Yo Yo Ma."
"Oh, really? How would you know?"
"Because you didn't know about it until I told you." The two girls stopped walking for a few moments while they waited for the stoplight to turn from red to green. Caroline was slightly out of breath from carrying her new package underneath her arm. She was going to enjoy her new hobby even if it meant hiding her true feelings from Abrianna.
"The light is green now." Abrianna yelled over her shoulder. Caroline started and stepped quickly to catch up with her best friend of three years. "Wait for me. This thing is heavy!"
"You could turn it back in to get rid of it. Then they would give it to me so you wouldn't have that problem anymore." Caroline rolled her eyes and hefted the large case which contained a tuba to her other arm. They had one more long mile to go.
"It's not my fault I fit the height requirement for the last sousaphone. I am sorry but I don't want to wear that thing. I'd rather play the tuba."
"I'd rather be able to take band class, but you are not making that any easier." They stepped onto the curb at the same time and Abrianna kept walking at her same brisk pace, leaving Caroline a little more out of breath.
"Why can you just play the drums or piano? Those were still available."
"No one in my house would dare to buy me a drum set or be willing to let me play one, and we don't have a piano that I could practice on. It's not like the school has the money to have good quality instruments. They don't have portable keyboards that can play more than one note at a time. Why don't you play the drums or piano?" She spat back.
"The drums are really not my thing and I don't want to play the piano. That requires reading both parts of music. The bass and the trouble clef."
"Treble."
"Huh?"
"It's called a treble clef not a trouble clef."
"Whatever, that's what I said. Treble."
"When you said it the first time it sounded like trouble."
"Which is exactly why I would rather not play the piano." Her attempt at a joke fell flat. One reason being that she was very much out of breath and had at least two blocks to go and two, Abrianna was far enough ahead of her that she almost had to shout to be heard which she didn't want to do even if she could. Caroline was able to catch up at the next corner and finally took a few breaths while not moving.
"I can't believe you'd do this to me. We were supposed to hang out this year together. How are we supposed to do that if you're at band practice all the time?"
"I won't be there all the time. It's just on Wednesdays and Thursdays. And besides," she said, "I won't even be practicing that much. There aren't many tuba solos in popular music these days."
Abrianna had to admit that she was right. The focus of the course was to learn to play some popular music so that the students would stay interested in the instruments they chose to play. She had a valid point that they could still hang out together, but she wanted to spend more time that they weren't hanging out together, hanging out together, though it didn't make much sense when she thought about verbalizing it. All she knew was that she needed Caroline to be there for her this year and with Caroline in the band it was not likely going to end up that way.
"Well, we're coming up to my stop," Caroline said to no one in particular. Abrianna had already stormed ahead again and didn't acknowledge the block where they normally said goodbye for the day before heading inside to log into their respective computers where they would continue chatting.
"See you tomorrow!" she said with a chipper voice. A grunt and a hand was all she got in return. Sighing, she heaved the instrument into the other arm and made her way up to her door. Putting it down on the ground she fumbled for her key and found it in the bottom of her bag. Looking around quickly she inserted it into the door and walked inside her house and closed the door. She deftly put the instrument down and shook out her numb fingers. The best way to get rid of that numb feeling was to practice. Practice carrying the instrument, practice opening the case, practice admiring the shiny brass, yet figuring out a time to practice playing would wait, as she had a lot of other stuff to do first.
