After I tied my shoes, I grabbed my backpack and sprinted out the door. The morning was still a bit dark, but I paid no attention to it. I raced down the sidewalk while pulling up Peter's address on my cruddy flip phone.
I made it to his house in record time.
Gasping for air, I knocked on the front door. The door opened there stood a grinning Peter.
"Wow, that was quick," Peter said as he let me inside.
I stared at him. "I'm fast when I don't get enough sleep."
Peter stared back at me, unable to tell if I was joking or not. I gave him a rather smug smile. He led me to the kitchen, where there were a few other people I hadn't met. They were gathered around the stove, as if they were in a hypnotic state.
"Woah, what happened?" Peter rushed over to the stove.
One of the boys giggled immaturely. "That piece of bread looks like a wiener."
The rest of the group began laughing, which I couldn't help but smile. Peter looked over his shoulder and signaled me to come over. I peered over the shoulders to look at the wiener bread.
Sure enough, the piece of bread was deformed to look like a part of the male anatomy.
"I'm not eating the dick toast," a girl said.
"Nah, me neither," said the boy who spoke earlier.
"The new girl should eat it."
"Yooo, new right of passage for the band?"
"Hell yeah."
Everyone turned to me with wicked grins. I backed up a bit, chuckling nervously. Peter stopped me and looked at me with a deadpan expression.
"Eat the french toast dick, (Y/N)."
"What?" I groaned. "Why me?"
"Because," said another boy, "it's gay if any of the guys eat it. And Valeria wouldn't do it because she is gay."
"Bisexual," the girl, Veleria, corrected.
"C'mon, it's funny," Peter told me.
I rolled my eyes at the immature teenagers. Why am I doing this? I asked myself.
Reluctantly, I agreed to eat the french toast. I made sure to cut it in small pieces, glaring at Peter as I did so.
I think I got my message across.
After everyone ate, we followed Peter into the basement. I was awestruck from the multitude of instruments that hung on the walls.
"Okay, here's what we're going to do," one of the boys, whose name I was told was Ezra, said. "We're going to run through the song so Miss (Y/N) can get a feel for the vibe we're going for. Derek, can you give her the sheet music? Thanks bossman."
Derek handed me a paper. It had lyrics for what I assumed to be a sad love song.
"So, just follow along?" I asked.
"Yes ma'am."
The band members got in their places, and Valeria tapped her drum sticks. After the fourth tap, music broke out in a loud volume. Everyone looked so passionate as they played the song, which was more upbeat than I had expected.
I followed along with the lyrics as Ezra told me to.
Am I going to be able to sing this?
The song continued, and I felt my confidence deflate. Maybe it was the sad lyrics. Maybe it was something else swimming in the back of my mind.
Just focus on the words, I told myself.
Peter finished the song with a riff. I applauded and gave everyone an awkward high five. Thankfully, no one else seemed to think it was awkward.
Just me.
"That sounded really good," I told the group.
"Shucks, you're making us blush," Valeria said.
Ezra sighed. "It'll sound a lot better with some extra vocals. You can sing, right?"
I looked down at my shoes.
"A bit, yeah."
Ezra looked over at Peter, who shrugged in response. Ezra sighed and sat down.
"Okay, give it your best shot."
***
How.
Embarrassing.
When is it ever a good idea to sing first thing in the morning?
Ezra had me sing the first verse and the chorus to test my vocal skills. The first run I completely froze. The second run my voice cracked because of stupid morning voice. The third was a lot better, but Ezra kept a very straight face.
He told me 'you're better than nothing' and ended practice right there.
What a stoic dude.
Though, Ezra did invite me to practice after school.
I'll take that as a good sign.
The band walked with me to school. They all joked and laughed about something, I wasn't listening. Instead, I tuned out as the deflating feeling came back to my chest. Once again, there was a thought floating in the back of my mind. I didn't know what it was, or why it was making me feel this way.
The deflating feeling wasn't necessarily dreadful, though.
Maybe deflate wasn't the right word.
The feeling was more bubbly, actually.
Why was I feeling all bubbly inside?
_____________________________
Yes yes, I know this is a very short chapter and it's very boring. I've been lacking motivation and my mental health is not where it should be. Don't worry! I'm still working on the story. But forgive me if I go on hiatus again.
Also, 1.1k views??! You guys are awesome!! Big thank you to those who comment and vote. You guys truly make my day. Love y'all so much!! <3
(also, if you want to contact me by any chance *cough cough* my Discord tag is ahnabee#5365)
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