Band PracticeMature


As I walked up the stairs to the entrance to my highschool, I glanced down at my watch. 7:26. I was going to be late for band, unless I literally ran the rest of the way. But that was a bad idea; running is against the rules in the hallways. So I decided to just walk as fast as I could and explain to the band director why I was late. 

"Hey, Ry!" Elliot calls. He's standing on the stairs behind me, holding his drum sticks in his left hand and gripping his backpack strap with his right. Mentally, I groan; physically, however, I turn around and smile down at him.

"Hey," I say. Due to the fact I knew that I was going to be late, I glanced at my watch again.

"Oh, do you need to be somewhere?" He asks, looking guilty for holding me back. 

I nod and say, "I've got band at 7:30."

"Oh! I'm sorry. Go on, then. Foust won't like it if you're late," he tells me, motioning for me to continue. "Foust" is what we call the band directer, Mr. Foust. 

"See ya later," I mumble, hurrying through the door and off towards the basement, where band is held. He says something in response, but I don't hear what.


As band lets out and I walk up the stairs with the rest of the group, I realize that I'm late for biology. 8:00 is the time that reads on my watch. I have five minutes to get there before the teacher marks me down as not attending.

"Why the hell do I keep ending up being late for everything on my first damn day here?" I mutter angrily to myself. Only a few kids are still milling around out in the hallways now, so I make it to class without further interruptions. 

8:04 is the time on my watch as I open up the door to the classroom. As I do so, I realize that I've been checking my watch repeatedly all morning and I let out a sigh. 'Why does my OCD have to kick in at the worst of times?' I ask myself as I hurry into the classroom and close the door behind me. One of my worst OCD habits is that I tend to do things repeatedly; especially when it comes to checking my watch.

"Welcome, class, to---" The teacher, a woman, trails off as I walk through the door. I'm breathing slightly hard from walking almost halfway across the school to get here. 

"I'm so sorry I'm late. Band was running a few minutes behind and the hallways were crowded and---" I trail off awkwardly, trying to catch my breath. "And I had troubles finding my way here. You know, first day and all..." I try and come up with as many excuses as I can, even though most of them were lies.

"Just sit down, Ryder. We were about to begin," the teacher says, not seeming to mind my being late. I nod, scanning the room for a seat. After a few moments, I find the only empty one left; and it's next to that girl that ran into me at the icecream shop. She looks a little pale, as if she's worried about something.

As I walk over and slide into the desk, I remember her name. 'Camilla... Yeah. That's it. At least, I hope,' I think to myself.

"Oh hi, Camilla," I say tentatively to her, waiting for her reaction to see if that's actually her name. I smile at her and she smiles back. 'Yes! At least I didn't screw up her name,' I think. "Didn't think you went here."

"No... I didn't. This is my first day," she mumbles quietly in response. I nod in understanding, turning my attention back to the teacher and the first lesson of the year.

The End

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