I Heart Band by Michelle Schusterman

Author:Michelle Schusterman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2013-12-02T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter

Fifteen

By the time Mom dropped me off at Spins for the band party, it was already pretty crowded. I hovered in the entrance, looking for familiar faces. Spins was part pizza buffet, part arcade, and it was kind of dimly lit. There were definitely a lot of advanced-band members here already, and I recognized a bunch of seventh-graders who were in symphonic band. There were several kids I didn’t recognize, but judging from their height, I figured they were in beginner band. (Seriously, was I that short in sixth grade?)

Mr. Dante was in a booth chatting with the parent chaperones. For, like, the millionth time, I thought about Julia sitting at home and tried to push the image out of my mind. I couldn’t believe I’d yelled at her like that after band. At the same time, I was still a little too hurt by what she’d said to call her (although I’d picked up the phone without dialing about a dozen times before leaving for Spins).

Ignoring yet another wave of guilt, I spotted Gabby and a few girls by the drinks. I started heading their way, then stopped.

By the time I’d gotten home from school, I’d convinced myself that what happened during band wasn’t that big of a deal. But now . . . Half the kids in this room had been there to witness my humiliation. I edged back toward the doors, a blush heating my cheeks. I couldn’t face everyone. Maybe I should just quit band and join the choir or something. My singing voice wasn’t bad.

Then I shook my head. I was being ridiculous. Like I would ever do choir.

“Hey, Holly!” Gabby waved, holding a plate piled high with cinnamon breadsticks from the buffet in her other hand. Next to her, Victoria Rios, a trumpet player, and Leah Collins, a percussionist, were eating slices of pizza. Taking a deep breath, I headed over.

“Hey,” I said nervously. Gabby smiled at me.

“Love your dress.”

Inwardly, I sighed in relief. She wasn’t going to mention the spit-valve thing.

“Thanks!” I couldn’t help but stare at Gabby’s plate. “Seriously, do you ever eat anything but sweet stuff?”

“Nope,” Victoria answered immediately. “One time in fifth grade I dared her to eat a pickle at lunch because she’d never had one.”

“You were in fifth grade the first time you ate a pickle?” Leah exclaimed, picking the olives off her pizza.

Gabby nodded, swallowing. “Yup. Vic bet me a week’s worth of chocolate pudding that I couldn’t eat the whole thing. So I did. Then I puked. Totally worth it.”

We laughed. “You can’t blame her for all the candy, though,” Victoria added. “You should see the food situation at her house.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, and Gabby’s eyes widened.

“My mom is insane,” she said emphatically. “There is, like, zero sugar in our kitchen. And, oh my God, the stuff I have to eat for dinner. You would die.”

I giggled. “It can’t be that bad.” But she and Victoria both shook their heads.

“Holly, you know what my mom made for dinner last night?” Gabby paused, wrinkling her nose.

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