Chapter 2: September

September 3

Today was the first day of classes. Fortunately, we didn’t have marching band after school today. I guess Mr. J. thinks we’ll be too worn out to concentrate. Not likely after he put us through three weeks of standing on our feet and going over the same music again and again out in the August heat. Sitting in class was easy by comparison.

Being in the band has another perk I hadn’t expected. I discovered that I knew a lot of people. Our high school pulls from four middle schools, so most of the incoming freshman didn’t know that many people. I know my old middle school classmates, plus a lot of the incoming freshman that I met in band camp. Then there’s a bunch of upperclassmen from the band, even about thirty seniors, who already know me and don’t seem to be ashamed of talking to a freshman.

There are a few exceptions, of course, like Abby Kowalski. First chair flutes in the upper band (Wind Symphony) apparently are too good for the likes of a Freshman French Horn from the Concert Band. She’s really pretty, though, and has a nice ass, which I saw a lot of during marching band rehearsals because I was right behind her a lot in the formations we went through. It’s OK if she can’t stand me, though. I have good friends from my section that like me, even the horns from the Wind Symphony. I thought I’d get a swelled head when Anna Jones stopped at my locker and said hello. Anna’s a senior, and is the mellophone section leader for marching band. She has really pretty blue eyes and nice boobs, too!

Best of all was fourth period. That was Concert Band. I spotted Katie right away, to my left and on the front row. She would look at me and grin whenever we had a break.

There’s a hierarchy to band. The flutes are right there in front of the director and every one them are little princesses. There were six of them in Concert Band, all preening to become the next Abby Kowalski. The first row of clarinets can be the same way. Katie was on the front end of the second semicircular row, just behind the flutes, which gave her princess potential, but I already knew she was nice. The bassoon section was next to her. Bassoon players usually have a great sense of humor. You have to when you play an instrument that sounds like a duck call. Most of them were in the pit, and I already knew them from helping Katie move the pit equipment. Nice people.

From there, basically, the lower the pitch of your instrument, and the farther you are from the band director, the more of a cut-up you’re going to be. The trombones are insane, the euphoniums are imbeciles, the tubas are incorrigible and the percussionists are all ADHD. I’m in the middle; serious when I have to be and goofy when we get to relax.

Overall, it was a good first day of school. I sat with some kids from band at lunchtime, endured my PE class and got to know what we were going to be doing in all the academic subjects.

Dad was kind of late picking me up. I was afraid I’d have to call him, or walk home, when two cars came whipping around the corner into the pick-up area. Mrs. K. was in the lead and Dad was right behind her. Climbing into the car, I looked forward and was treated to a nice view of Abby Kowalski’s ass as she climbed into her mom’s car. Abby had been standing near where I was waiting and she did not look happy, probably because she didn’t have her car and couldn’t be the first one out of the parking lot.

“Sorry I was late, John,” Dad apologized. “I got caught up in something and lost track of the time.”

About that time, I looked up and saw Mrs. Kowalski give a little wave over her shoulder at Dad. ‘Uh huh,’ I thought to myself. ‘What you were caught up in, Dad, a something or a someone?’

September 4

Dad wasn’t late picking me up this time, but I could tell he was a little distracted. He was in a great mood, despite whatever was on his mind. I can live with that. We were just leaving the parking lot when Mrs. Kowalski was going in. She waved energetically and gave us a big smile. Gave Dad a big smile was more like it. I was just caught in the wake.

I wonder if Mom has a clue about what’s going on. Is something actually going on? Thinking about it makes me a little sad. I mean, what if Mom and Dad split up and Dad ends up with Mrs. K. She’s a nice lady and I think she’d try to be a good stepmom to me, but the thought of being Abby Kowalski’s step-brother? Eww. Maybe I could stay behind with Mom.

Things were pretty normal when Mom got home. Dad didn’t act any different, and I tried not to look like I suspected that anything was up. We watched TV for a while, but I wasn’t into it. I was tired, Dad’s behavior with Mrs. K. had me wondering what the heck was going on, and it was just giving me a headache.

I went to bed and tried to think of more pleasant things. Things like Katie Schuman’s pretty green eyes. Things like the way Katie smiled at me during band class. Things like the way Katie’s boobs jiggled under her shirt. Yeah. Pleasant things.

September 5

Dad was super mellow and only half there again when he picked me up. He was even humming. It worries me. I think he’s showing all the signs of someone who’s falling in love, and I’m getting more waves of revulsion at the thought of Abby being my stepsister. Please, someone, invent a brain bleach so I can wash that thought out of my head.

That night I was still awake, trying to think pleasant thoughts, playing with my cock and thinking about Katie Schuman, when Mom and Dad came up to bed. There was a little giggling from mom and then a quiet moan. Pretty soon the bedsprings started squeaking. Parents having sex. Bad mental picture. Switch scene to Katie riding my dick. Squeaking bedsprings, quiet moans. Very pleasant thoughts. Very pleasant indeed.

September 6

Tonight was our first home game. We got our uniforms on and everybody started drifting toward the spot we’d march in from. I stayed behind to help with moving The Pit out to the football field before I joined the rest of the band. Yeah, I mostly stayed to see Katie, but that’s no reason not to be helpful. Her mom was there since it takes a few extra people to move them into position at halftime, and Katie introduced us. Mrs. Schuman was an older version of her daughter. Pretty, not too tall, light brown hair and a curvy figure. Her eyes had the same kind of twinkle to them as Katie’s.

“Ah! You’re the boy she keeps raving about,” Mrs. Schuman grinned as she shook my hand.

“Mom!” Katie scolded her as I blushed.

Mrs. Schuman just laughed. “If Katie likes you, then you’re okay in my book.”

Even with the adults there, I still had something to move out to the field. Mrs. Schuman said some other parents would be there to help with halftime. She said that it was going to take one of the bigger rental trucks to get the pit equipment and color guard stuff to our competitions and told me Mr. Williams was going to drive it. Mr. Williams is Ian’s dad. Ian is a senior this year and the only percussionist who didn’t go out for drum line. He never has. He says he prefers to play the marimba, and Pit is his chance to do that.

The football game was fun. I’m not a real big fan of the game, but I had a great time sitting with the band. We played a lot of short pieces we call stand tunes to keep the crowd revved up, played the school fight song whenever we scored and otherwise just hung out together. Most of us sat with our sections. Katie didn’t have an instrument to play, so she sat next to me. I think she likes me.

Near the end of the second quarter, we went down to the end zone and started warming up. The pit and drum line were in separate areas doing their thing, so I didn’t see Katie until after the halftime show. I think most people ignored us and went off to the snack bar, but some folks cheered us when we finished. The performance felt good.

In the third quarter, we all got to take a break. Katie and I went to the snack bar and I bought us both a burger and a coke and we ate them together before we walked back to the stands. At some point along that walk, I discovered that Katie had snaked her hand into mine. It felt really nice. The band played a few more stand tunes and such. In the third quarter, Mr. J. sent The Pit kids and parents off to move their stuff back to the band room.