I Heart Band by Michelle Schusterman Page B

too.”
    I stared at the cards. “Owen, that is really . . . cool.”
    He turned a little red. “Yeah, right.”
    â€œNo, it really is!” I meant it, too. Sure, making an elaborate card game to study ranked Owen pretty high on the dork-o-meter. But hey—I finally knew what an organelle was. “Thanks for doing this.”
    â€œYou’re welcome.”
    I glanced at the TV. “
Prophet Wars
. So . . . is this more warlocks?”
    â€œNope.” Owen picked up his controller. “Aliens.”
    â€œNice.”
    It didn’t take long to realize I was a spectacular failure at this game. In five minutes I’d gotten blown to bits, like, eight times. I ground my teeth, thumbs flying over my controller.
    Make that nine.
    â€œWow, you’re really bad at this.”
    I glanced up in surprise and crashed my tank into the side of a building. A bunch of aliens crawled out and dragged me away from the wreckage. Trevor flopped down on the sofa between me and Owen, and I glared at him.
    â€œThat one was your fault.”
    He snorted. “Yeah, because you were doing so awesome before.”
    â€œShut up, Trevor.” Owen got up and grabbed a third controller, but I handed Trevor mine.
    â€œIt’s okay, I’ve got to go. My mom said she’d be here at five.” I definitely was not in the mood to get my butt kicked again, and especially not by Trevor. “Thanks, Owen.”
    â€œSure.” He followed me downstairs. “So we just studied the first chapter today, but I think the test will cover three.”
    â€œRight.” I smiled as Worf came bounding out of the kitchen. “Um, so . . . can I come over again next week? To study?”
    â€œYeah! I’ll make more cards.”
    I knelt down to scratch Worf one more time. “I can’t believe I’m so nervous about this stupid test. I’m actually more worried about it than I was about the chair test in band.”
    Owen looked surprised. “Were you nervous today? I couldn’t tell.”
    â€œReally?” I laughed. “I was. I was
really
nervous.”
    â€œWell, you sounded great.” Owen grabbed a piece of rope and started a tug-of-war with Worf.
    â€œThanks!” I hesitated, watching him. “I . . . I really want first chair.”
    He dangled the rope in the air, and Worf danced around on his hind legs. “I bet you get it.”
    I smiled, fiddling with the straps of my backpack. “You don’t think . . . you don’t think Natasha will get it?” I asked, trying to keep my voice as casual as possible.
    Owen just shrugged. “Well, maybe. She’s really good, too.”
    Ugh.
    I stayed quiet a little bit too long, and he gave me a curious look. “I mean, you’re both good. It doesn’t really matter who’s first and who’s second, does it?”
    I smiled tightly. “Nah, I guess not.” Shouldering my backpack, I opened the front door. “See you Monday, Owen.”
    â€œSee you.”
    On the ride home, Mom turned on the radio. But in my head I heard myself play the chair test, and then Natasha, over and over. I’d sounded better. I
had
. I wondered if she was obsessing over it, too. I wondered if she was asking Julia who sounded better right now over fajitas.
    Everyone’s a loser at some point
. I stared at the window and made a face at my reflection.
    Maybe everyone had to lose every once in a while. But when it came to band and best friends, I was so not losing to Natasha.

Chapter Ten

    O n Monday, I got to school early and went straight to the band hall. No chair test results yet. I spent the next three class periods quietly stressing to death. When Gabby shook her box of Red Hots under my nose, I almost puked in my
cubby.
    â€œYou okay?” she asked, and I nodded. “You look kind of—oh, hey, check it out!”
    Gabby pointed, and