As promised, here's the rest of the Summer of 1996. **Some names have been changed for sake of the other person.
There it was, the line in the sand. The fractions were split. It was Michelle and grade school Katie vs. Katie and myself. Katie and I did everything together that summer. It seemed like our number one favorite activity to do was walk. We would walk miles and miles each day, talking about everything from boys to the up comming school year.
I was excited to finally be in high school, but Katie had a pit in her stomach about the whole situation, and I could understand why. Her father got a job transfer and she was moving to North Carolina. I think she was both excited and nervous at the same time. She got to leave crummy Ohio behind for a new, beautiful state with great weather, but then again, Ohio was all she new. All we knew that she was excited for a new change in her 15 year old life.
That summer I quit the cross country team. My band director made me choose between the two, and since I showed some talent in music, I chose band. That meant......Marching Band.....
I showed up the first day of band camp kicking and screaming. Here I was, a (french) horn player, and they gave me this crummy instrument that looked like an oversized trumped called a mellophone. (Still to this day, I shudder thinking about playing the damned thing. It was the most impossible to tune, smelly instrument ever).
Anyways, I found my assigned seat in the mellophone row, sat there, and began to look around. The first people I saw were Katie and Michelle. They walked up to me, and immediately we started talking as if nothing happened. We instantly started fixing the seats and moving nametags around so we could sit by each other. I took the tag beside me, not paying attention to the fact that there was actually stuff by the seat, then I heard his voice:
"Hey what in the heck are you doing?"
I don't even know how to describe what I saw, but will try none the less. He was about 5`10 and skinny, with long sandy blonde hair. He was wearing a nirvana t shirt, a chain wallet, and reeked of cigarette smoke. His name was Luke Mitchell**. Katie and Michelle were so in shock that he actually said something they ran back to their seats. However, I was stuck there, sitting beside grungy boy.
We exchanged plesantries and then began to try and warm up our instruments. Shortly after, the band director gave a "welcome to marching band speech," and then we began to sight read "Eye of the Tiger." I began to doodle on some paper. This entertained Luke. He began to do the same. We then decided to play hang man. Looking back on it, two years of hang man always seemed to make band camp fly by.
Before I knew it, band camp was over for the day. My grandpa picked me up, drove me back to my house, and I was instantly on the phone with Katie telling her about Luke. I told her every single detail. We discussed the repulsive clothes he was wearing, the stupid chain wallet, and his long icky hair. She couldn't believe I actually talked to him afterwards.
That evening I had a (french) horn lesson. I arrived at Mr. Hall's house and we started to play through Kopprasch studies. about 10 minutes into my lesson, he recieved a knock on his door.
"Sorry I'm early," mummbled a voice from the studio door.
"That's fine, come have a seat, you guys are actually working on the same thing this evening," Said Mr. Hall
They both started up the stairs. I saw him first, who could mistake that sandy blonde hair? It was Luke. I didn't even realize that he took lessons too! For some reason, I was very excited to see him. I began going on and on about some passage in the music and was asking him if he was having the same problems. We then began to discuss alternate fingerings for some of the notes and different ways to practice the piece.
Next thing I knew, 15 minutes flew by and Mr. Hall said that my mom was parked outside. "How could this be," I thought to myself. I just got there! I then paid Mr. Hall and wished Luke good luck on playing the exercise.
He smiled and said, "See you tomorrow, motormouth."
"Motormouth?!" I thought to myself. "I don't talk a lot! What an ass!"
The second I arrived back at my house, I called Katie.
"Do I talk a lot?" I asked.
"Well, kinda," She replied.
I then tried to explain myself. Explain what Luke said and explain how I hated him even more than before. I was now severely annoyed with Luke Mitchell.
I was so annoyed with him that for the next three days I basically told him my whole life story. I was so annoyed with him, yet I told everyone I knew about him. I would bring him up at the dinner table, at my grandma's house, to all of my friends, then my friend Paul hit it on the nose.
Paul was a saxophone player that I had known for years. I recall asking him if he wanted to hang out with Katie and myself after band camp. He oblidged and we went for a walk. Of course, I started to talk about Luke.
Paul then said, "I think someone likes someone else."
"What in the world are you talking about?" I questioned.
Katie then pipped up, "Alison admit it, you like him."
"Like who?"
They both yelled, "LUKE!"
"No way...He's a jerk."
"You talk about him all the time, infact, you've seemed to not even bring up Jeremy once. All you talk about is Luke. Luke this, Luke that..."
"Okay Katie, I get your point, but I still don't like him!"
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. How could I even be attracted to the fact that he is a musician, with sandy blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes, and those freckles on his nose?
Okay...this might need a part three.......