Marking Time by Tasha Christensen

Author:Tasha Christensen [Christensen, Tasha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Da Vinci Adventures LLC

CHAPTER TWELVE

Spoiler alert: I can’t find them. Five minutes later I’m still wandering the labyrinthine passages of the fieldhouse basement. I pass an empty weight training room, multiple locker rooms—locked, of course—and a space with a massage bed and an ice bath. Nice. Wish we had that.

But no bathrooms.

I turn a corner to a jump scare—the two Itaska High mascots, hawk and velociraptor. They’re only wearing the body parts of their costumes, animal heads abandoned on the ground, and their tongues are 100% in each other’s mouths.

I clap a hand over my own mouth so I don’t gasp at the sight of my new school’s two weird mascots hooking up in a basement hallway. They’re so wrapped around each other I can barely make out distinct features on either. I think it’s a guy with long, brown hair and a girl with short, blond hair. Or is it the opposite? I duck back behind the corner and press my back against the wall, wheezing with silent laughter.

My first thought is how I can’t wait to tell Jaz about this. My second thought is to berate myself for the first. Have I let myself get to the point where I want to share everything funny that happens with her? I roll my eyes and peek around the wall. The mascots are still going at it, and I notice now that the sign for a bathroom is directly above them. Because of course it is.

Only way out is through, I tell myself. Be brave.

My anxiety is unfounded. The two raptors are so wrapped up in each other that I’m basically invisible as I sneak around them and into the bathroom. I pee and hustle back to the band room, where Miss Alvarez is leading everyone through a quick warm-up. Even if I wanted to tell Jaz anything, the battery is already outside doing its own thing in the lot next to the dumpster. I can hear the tap-tap-tap of their drills through the exterior door, which has been wedged open with a marimba mallet.

After warm-ups, Michael leads us outside to march, four people wide, with Gavin at the front and the drumline at the back.

“Remember, folks, this is your first public performance of the show music!” Michael keeps up by shuffling sideways, like the drills Jackson does at basketball practice. “I want to see that pride in your eyes. Show ’em what the Itaska Marching Band is about!”

We arrive at our football field and file in through a gate behind the bleachers. Itaska’s team, decked out in navy blue jerseys and gold helmets, is huddled near our sideline with some coaches. The opposing team is warming up in white jerseys on the other side of the field. The stands are speckled with attendees. The band has a reserved section at the far end. I end up between Adam and Madison, right in front of the freshman trumpet players. There go my eardrums.

Attendees trickle in with their hands full of nachos and popcorn

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