lot in school, so I’ve always assumed he’d get bored with me and move on. As soon as the solo competition between Rio and Sophie heated up, he brought Rio into our group and started to ignore the rest of us. But even if he gets distracted by shiny new friends, he always comes back to me, so perhaps he deserves more credit.”
We’re into the park now, and the hand that’s holding my oboe case starts to sweat. I grip the case harder as I keep an eye out for this group of people.
“That’s good to know, I guess. But he seemed to like me a lot? And I’m not going to that school, so maybe you’re reading into it some?”
“Yeah, that’s probably it. I don’t want to let my weirdness with Pierce affect your feelings about him.”
I laugh, despite the growing anxiety that comes when I know I’m about to meet new people. “Well, you’re doing a bad job. So tell me something good about him.”
“He’s mad passionate. He’s fun; he’s got a wicked sense of humor.” We must be getting close, since he slows down and turns to me. “A couple weeks ago, he convinced the people at the London Eye—that big Ferris wheel on the river—he was a social media influencer, and he got the whole group of us on a private ride.”
Shane nudges my shoulder. “He can be very charming.”
“That sounds more like the guy I met,” I say as a smile lifts my face. “Thanks.”
We approach the group. They’re mostly hidden behind trees, so I hear them before I see them. Trumpets blaring scales, up and down and up until the players run out of breath. A trombone blurting out notes like it was trying to be the loudest. Clarinets trilling faster and faster, with the flutes lagging slightly behind them.
For one bright moment, the vise loosens its hold on my insides, and I feel myself becoming calmer and more ready than I was mere seconds ago. This is my element, my world.
I come into the clearing, where a clarinet player—maybe Rio, maybe Sophie—warms up with a low trill that builds into a powerful glissando. Her hands fly over the keys until she’s able to push the pitch higher with just her lips. It leads into the iconic riff for Rhapsody in Blue, and it’s a little show-offy, but I find myself drawn to her anyway. Her tight braids fall neatly down her back, but her dark skin glistens with sweat. She pauses to wipe her brow with her forearm.
Shane’s ducked off to the side to set his instrument up and take a call from his mom, who I assume just arrived in Italy. I’m alone, but I’ve come so close that Sophie’s looking at me now, so I force myself to keep moving.
“That was fantastic,” I say, beaming a let’s-be-friends smile. “I’m Marty. Shane’s cousin. I don’t know if you know him. I play the oboe. Just moved here.”
“Sophie,” she says. “Nice to meet you, Marty. And yeah, I may have been showing off. I’m in a bit of a standoff for principal chair with this other girl here. It’s really annoying—I feel like I always have to prove myself, even when we’re not in class.”
“Rio?” I ask.
“Oh right, of course you know her. You’re part of her crew or whatever.”
She turns away from me slightly and starts adjusting the neck of her clarinet. I piece together my oboe—which isn’t hard: there’s the bell, two pieces of the main body, and the reed. And I watch her attitude fall.
“I just got here yesterday. I haven’t met her. Only Pierce, and now you.”
“Well, I’m glad you broke the clique to come say hi,” she offers bluntly. “Sorry, I’m being a bit direct. I like your friends, but once Rio got caught up with your crew, I’ve felt this tension. Between all of them. Like Rio’s talking shit and they all think I’m this monster.”
“Huh,” I say. Not adding a ton to the conversation, but noting how we all have our own insecurities here. “If it makes you feel better, no one’s said anything bad about you to me. I got the impression that you and Rio were not the best of pals, but that you were a really good clarinetist. Which you’ve already shown.”
I follow Sophie’s gaze to find a girl who’s fake punching Pierce across the lawn, her red hair bouncing with every punch. I feel her intense energy all the way from over