Chương 10: Music to My Ears

The band room was thankfully not too far from the gym—a fact that Olivia would prove incredibly grateful for in the coming months. As it was, she'd be pressed for time getting out of her gym clothes, so following that up with a trip halfway across campus would've had her sprinting through between-period traffic. Pushing open the heavy double doors revealed a room already abuzz with students seated loosely around the central podium. Most of them were about her age—this was the freshman band class, after all.

Yet there were a handful of exceptions she recognized, older students who ended up here due to scheduling conflicts with their other classes or simply to offer a guiding hand. They weren't hard to pick out, even though the entire class was full of youngsters to her eye.

"Come in, come in!" A tall, hook-nosed figure loomed tall atop the podium, her gray hair bound up in a tight bun. Round amber-rimmed glasses hung from a long beaded lanyard about her neck. Combined with her orange cardigan and a paisley blouse that belonged on the racks of an antique shop, the woman was an almost comical caricature of a stern librarian. An impression disrupted by the warm smile she turned upon Olivia. This was Mrs. Villanueva, colloquially known as Mrs.

V—a fixture of RHS and the band instructor since the school's founding. She was thin enough that a slight breeze might carry her away unexpectedly, not unlike Olivia herself. Yet she also radiated confidence and an energy that belied her age.

"Have a seat, dear! We have a few things to cover before we begin." Olivia nodded and stepped toward the gathered kids. The clustered arrangements of students made it clear that cliques had already begun to form, which was unsurprising. They'd had a couple of weeks to get a head start, after all. Most without preexisting social connections sat among those who played the same instruments by default.

Olivia moved toward the area where the flutes had loosely gathered, selecting a spot close enough to suggest an association while far enough away to remain apart. Yet her efforts were quickly rendered moot as additional students filtered in. An excitable freshman settled down next to her, curly brunette hair bouncing enthusiastically.

"Hey! What's up? How've your classes been?"

"... Hey." Olivia gave the girl a reserved smile. One of her fellow flutes, she recalled.

"Good. Yours?"

"Good? Ugh, lucky! I wish mine were good. All of my teachers seem super boring. I just hope they're not too hard. Do you think classes will be hard? Everyone says high school is way harder than middle school. Oh, who do you have for English? I have Meyers…" The girl was as bright-eyed and eager for conversation as anyone Olivia had ever seen. Well, "conversation" might have been a generous term.

She hardly paused for breath even when posing a question, more interested in the sound of her own voice than actually getting an answer. Of course, that wasn't a problem for Olivia. It also meant that the girl was perfectly content with the short one-word answers or polite nods offered in return. At least, until another girl sat down nearby and became the new subject of her attention. The reverberating tones of the bell sounded to signal the start of class. Mrs.

V raised one hand to gather everyone's attention, the last conversations quickly dying out.

"Wonderful. Now then! Welcome to the first day of Introductory Music." She smiled.

"At least, the first official day. I do see some new faces among us, so it does seem that introductions are in order. But first! Let us see to attendance and ensure that everyone is in the correct place." The class remained silent as Mrs. V called out each name in turn and was subsequently answered by a brief "here". A couple of the older or more gregarious students changed up their answers, altering the tone or opting for a more casual "sup", which elicited a few chuckles or grins from their friends.

But otherwise, the proceedings mostly helped Olivia put a few names to faces that she hadn't quite recalled. The flute that had insisted on talking her ear off earlier was apparently named Emma, for one.

"Olivia Miller?" She blinked. It took her a long moment of stunned silence before she stammered out a reply.

"H-here!"

"April Montoya?" The music teacher continued on, heedless of the existential crisis she'd unwittingly unleashed upon her student. Olivia Miller. Not Olivia Wright. Not anymore. Hoo, boy. That is going to take some getting used to…

"Well!" Mrs. V snapped her attendance folder shut.

"That's that. Now. Most of you are already well acquainted with both myself and what participation in this class will entail. However, for those of you who were unable to attend our summer marching sessions these past few weeks, allow me to review.

"This first semester will consist of almost entirely marching-related activities. As such, we will be primarily focusing on that genre of music during this time. Our focus will switch to more traditional concert band music and performances during the second semester. I expect that the vast majority of our students already have some semblance of experience with their instruments, either due to middle school music courses or individual study.

However, if you have enrolled in this course as a complete beginner, worry not. Your lack of prior experience will not be held against you.

"Of course, the actual marching aspect of this semester will be relegated to afterschool practices on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays—which are mandatory. Here in class, our primary concern will be the music itself. Speaking of which…" Mrs. V's eyes glinted.

"Given the amount of time remaining, I believe it would be remiss to waste such an opportunity. Retrieve your instruments, everyone." The room burst into motion. All at once, the band kids rose and began pulling open lockers and unlatching cases. Instruments of shining brass and silver and ebony slid out of their cases and came together with practiced motions. When the first brassy blast of a trumpet rang out, it opened the floodgates and soon the air filled with music. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road.

If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Saxophones stumbled up and down scales while clarinets blared their reedy tones. Beneath them ran a bassline of tubas and baritones contributing their own brassy belches. Snippets of songs that ranged from old cultural touchstones to the current era's popular tunes occasionally popped to the forefront of the noisy tapestry like bright threads, only to be obscured by others as they constantly weaved in and out. Olivia simply took a moment to take it in.

The sound quality was overall clearly amateurish, with breathy undertones that ate into its purity, and she heard more than a few flubbed notes as everyone warmed up. But that only made it feel more nostalgic. I missed this. So many good times… Olivia pulled her flute off of the others in her locker and stepped away to assemble it. Her fingers found the keys without issue. But that was only the start.

She hadn't truly played since college, only breaking out the instrument occasionally to entertain the boys on a rainy day. Even then, it had been simple tunes, nothing resembling practice or requiring actual skill. Just how much had she forgotten in that time? How rusty was she? A little hesitantly, Olivia tightened her lips into what she thought was the right shape. Then, she blew. Hesitantly at first, then with more confidence.

A clear tone reverberated through the air, surprising her with just how good it sounded. And with a few quick adjustments, she managed to get it even better. Pulling back, she eyed the instrument approvingly. Not bad. Not bad at all. I don't think it's as good as it was before, obviously, but it's way better than I feared. Nodding with satisfaction, Olivia lay the instrument against her shoulder and moved to retrieve a music stand.

The other kids were already setting up in a loose arc around the central podium, grouped together by section. The chairs remained more or less forgotten in the corner, as they all would stand for the duration of marching season. She set up at one end of the formation with the other flutes before warming up in earnest. Soon, her own slow and methodical renditions of various musical scales joined the cacophony as she worked to remember how to play.

It felt a bit awkward at first, but before long her fingers were dancing along the keys in familiar patterns. She looked over after a set of quick arpeggios to see Emma looking at her with eyebrows raised.

"Hey! You sound really good! You must've spent the whole weekend practicing or something!" Olivia froze. Did she overdo it without realizing? She had more experience than the others, obviously, but her lack of recent practice should far outweigh that. Especially considering how she still felt rusty beyond belief. Then again, she honestly didn't have a great benchmark for her skill level as a freshman. But if Emma took notice enough to say something, then maybe this was still outperforming her old self? Then again…

Looking back on it, I was always at least a little above average. Maybe more than that, if I'm being perfectly honest. So maybe it's fine? As before, the girl didn't wait for a response before turning to her other neighbor, her flute forgotten in one hand. It saved Olivia from having to explain the apparent discrepancy with her skill. Still, it did leave her with a bit of a dilemma. Without a better idea of what skill level she should play at, she had no idea how to scale it back.

I don't even know if I can fake being worse. Not convincingly, at least. The social stuff is one thing, but this… I could flub notes intentionally or maybe drop out during difficult passages? Maybe? Play a little out of tune? She shook her head. No way she wanted to do that. The idea of not just underperforming, but intentionally flubbing when she didn't have to, especially in a group setting like this? It didn't just go against every fiber of her being.

Sandbagging like that would be an active detriment to her bandmates. No, the best choice was simply to play at whatever her current level was. Even if it wouldn't be quite consistent with her past self, trying to kneecap herself would only raise other questions and risk her going even further off the mark in a negative direction. She'd have to bank on the idea that she'd historically been a bit of a standout and work with that. Mrs. V clapped, the impossibly sharp sound slicing effortlessly through the din.

It took a moment for the last reedy notes to fall silent under her evaluating gaze.

"Hmm, we certainly took our time," She said primly.

"I'm certain I saw you all move faster this past week. No matter. Let's begin, shall we?" The woman stepped back from the podium, gesturing for another figure to take her place. A diminutive girl with dimpled cheeks and freckles stepped forward, nodding gratefully to the music instructor, her smile warm and open. A red band shirt from the previous year layered atop a long-sleeved white tee, making it clear that she was no freshman. This girl Olivia had no trouble remembering.

This was Hannah, one of the band's two drum majors and de facto leaders, especially at this time of the year. The girl would have only been a sophomore this year and thus new to her position at this point. However, despite her youth and generally affable demeanor, she was no pushover.

"Set!" Hannah's authoritative tone brooked no argument. Even Olivia found herself instinctually following the command to hold her flute in front of her—not in a playing position, but vertically. She quickly checked over her posture, trying to remember those old rules and guidelines for how she was supposed to stand. No matter. Even if it wasn't perfect, what was anyone going to expect? She was a freshman.

Hannah raised her hands with a brief flourish that had to be practiced, and with them the entire band's instruments rose to playing positions. Then, the drum major began to count off a tempo and they began to warm up as a group. The formerly disjointed whirlwind of notes coalesced into a singular whole. It was fairly out of tune, the slight dissonance of the notes warbling in Olivia's ears.

A lot of the kids were also clearly trying to avoid standing out, hiding beneath the din and accomplishing little more than hurting their sound quality. Even with all of that, however, Olivia couldn't help but feel elated. She'd forgotten just how good it felt to play as part of an ensemble. Playing alone was one thing, but as a small part of a greater whole? There was a certain feeling of belonging, of oneness that simply couldn't be matched. One that she hadn't even realized she'd been missing all this time.

Sure, there was still plenty of rust to shake off. But it was all coming back to her far more easily than expected. Soon, she found herself simply enjoying herself, settling easily back into the music as though it were a well-worn armchair. One with its fair share of rough patches, given the inexperience of the group. But even that had its charm. I kind of fell out of music once I got to college, if only because I got so busy with everything else… But maybe I should have joined a community band or something.

Smiling, Olivia resolved to look into the idea once she caught back up to her present. Well, eventually. Once she had time. The demands of little baby Hazel and the boys would probably push it off even further into the future. But that was all right. The group transitioned from warmups into practicing actual pieces of music, which only increased Olivia's enjoyment. Even with the frequent stops for feedback from Mrs.

V, she found herself honestly getting into it a bit, quickly getting the hang of the fingerings and working to make everything sound as good as she could manage. Soon, her flute was signing as though she'd never stopped playing at all. Yet every once in a while, in the middle of a particularly difficult passage, she glanced over to notice the music teacher throwing her strange glances from the back of the room.

The woman didn't say anything overtly, but it was behavior that Olivia didn't recall ever having seen before. It was probably nothing. Probably.