Now that it finally feels AND looks like fall around here in upstate SC, I thought I’d share what I always end up remembering this time of year: band competitions.
I was in the colorguard in high school, which meant my Saturdays during the fall were spent marching around the football field while twirling a flag and then waiting around for three hours as the judges deccided our fate. I remember the anxiety of those award ceremonies, huddling with my friends for warmth because the first cool snaps had arrived while my heart pounded in my chest, hoping we’d performed better than everyone else.
At one of these events, I sat next to the guy I was crushing on. He was in the drumline. (What, you didn’t know? All guard girls fall for drummers.) He knew I like him, and I think he felt the same, but he was beyond shy.
As we sat there that evening, one of the band parents handed out blankets, and he and I shared one. The relentless teasing did nothing to relieve his shyness, but I had all sorts of emotions running through me, including a thrilling rush of elation from being able to just sit so close to him that I felt the warmth of his leg against mine. With all those hormones present, it’s a wonder that I didn’t just jump up, throw the blanket over us, straddle his lap, and start making out with him. Would that have been a bit too forceful?
In the end, it didn’t work out between me and this guy, which as I learned later, was for the best. But ten years later, I married a drummer.