doesn’t exist anymore. But I still play! I play the guitar, too, at home. And I write some stuff. I write some of my own music.”
“Okay, that’s good,” Ms. Duff says, nodding. But she doesn’t write anything down. “Is there anything you can do with music? Any way to show your leadership skills?”
“Leadership skills?” I ask. “Like, uh, conducting an orchestra or something?”
“Maybe organizing a concert for senior citizens at a nursing home? Fund-raising to buy instruments for underprivileged kids?” Ms. Duff says. “You need to connect to other people. You need to show colleges that you’re involved with your community. You must care about something, Hunter.”
“Well, I care about music. I do.”
“It’s time to prove it,” Ms. Duff says. Then she stands up behind her desk and extends her hand. I don’t think a teacher has ever tried to shake my hand before, but I try to hide my surprise and give her a firm handshake, because Eugene’s always lecturing me about how important it is to give a firm handshake.
As I push open the double doors to the hallway and breathe in the normal, bad-smelling hallway air, I seeKelly and Chung’s sister Kristin coming out of the nurse’s office.
“Here you go,” Kelly says, handing Kristin a coat and two books. “This is what was in your locker. Is there anything else?”
Kristin is coughing up a lung, and Kelly reaches out and touches her back and says, “Feel better, okay? Lemme know if you need anything.”
Suddenly a lightbulb goes on in my head. This is exactly who I need right now. Kelly and I have been in band together since freshman year, and we have a bunch of other classes together, too. She’s always showing up to class on time and lending people pencils. I sprint down the hallway toward Kelly and stop short right in front of her.
“Hunter!” she says, surprised to look up and have me panting right in her face. “Are you okay? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you… run… before.”
“I’m good,” I say. “I’m really good. I was just thinking… I’ve been thinking about the music program. Ya know, the kids not learning music. Remember? In the band room?”
“Yeah, of course, the third-graders,” Kelly says.
“I want to do it,” I tell her. “Let’s do the thing, the peer thing. Let’s teach them. You and me.”
“We should!” Kelly says. “We should start figuring it out. Maybe for next year? We’d have to get permission, and find a teacher who would—”
“No! Let’s do it this year. Let’s get some instruments, get some kids, and get going.”
Kelly smiles, and her eyes crinkle up at the edges. That sounds weird, or not cute, but it’s actually really cute.
“Okay, I don’t know how long it will take to get going,” she says, laughing a little bit. “But we can get going.”
CHAPTER 8: KELLY
“Opposites Attract: What Makes Unlikely Couples Tick”
“The Boy Recession©” by Aviva Roth,
The Julius Journal
, October
“ W hich one of you is flam tap?” Hunter asks. “And which one is paradiddle?”
It’s third period on a Thursday in mid-October, and Hunter is holding a drumstick in each hand and pacing the bandstand behind three of our third-graders, who are sitting in chairs with drum pads on their laps. One is this tiny girl with two pigtails that stick straight out of her head, and the other two are boys—one calm and one with no front teeth.
“I’m flam tap!” No-Teeth Kid says, raising his hand and drumstick really high in the air.
Hunter takes his sticks and poises them over No-Teeth Kid’s head. Gently, he taps the kid’s head with each stick in rapid succession, saying, “flam,” and then with only the right stick, saying, “tap.”
No-Teeth Kid loves getting hit in the head—even really, really lightly. When Hunter is done, the third-grader tilts his head back and gives Hunter a gummy smile.
“Now you guys try it,” Hunter says. “All of you.
Flam
“Okay, that’s good,” Ms. Duff says, nodding. But she doesn’t write anything down. “Is there anything you can do with music? Any way to show your leadership skills?”
“Leadership skills?” I ask. “Like, uh, conducting an orchestra or something?”
“Maybe organizing a concert for senior citizens at a nursing home? Fund-raising to buy instruments for underprivileged kids?” Ms. Duff says. “You need to connect to other people. You need to show colleges that you’re involved with your community. You must care about something, Hunter.”
“Well, I care about music. I do.”
“It’s time to prove it,” Ms. Duff says. Then she stands up behind her desk and extends her hand. I don’t think a teacher has ever tried to shake my hand before, but I try to hide my surprise and give her a firm handshake, because Eugene’s always lecturing me about how important it is to give a firm handshake.
As I push open the double doors to the hallway and breathe in the normal, bad-smelling hallway air, I seeKelly and Chung’s sister Kristin coming out of the nurse’s office.
“Here you go,” Kelly says, handing Kristin a coat and two books. “This is what was in your locker. Is there anything else?”
Kristin is coughing up a lung, and Kelly reaches out and touches her back and says, “Feel better, okay? Lemme know if you need anything.”
Suddenly a lightbulb goes on in my head. This is exactly who I need right now. Kelly and I have been in band together since freshman year, and we have a bunch of other classes together, too. She’s always showing up to class on time and lending people pencils. I sprint down the hallway toward Kelly and stop short right in front of her.
“Hunter!” she says, surprised to look up and have me panting right in her face. “Are you okay? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you… run… before.”
“I’m good,” I say. “I’m really good. I was just thinking… I’ve been thinking about the music program. Ya know, the kids not learning music. Remember? In the band room?”
“Yeah, of course, the third-graders,” Kelly says.
“I want to do it,” I tell her. “Let’s do the thing, the peer thing. Let’s teach them. You and me.”
“We should!” Kelly says. “We should start figuring it out. Maybe for next year? We’d have to get permission, and find a teacher who would—”
“No! Let’s do it this year. Let’s get some instruments, get some kids, and get going.”
Kelly smiles, and her eyes crinkle up at the edges. That sounds weird, or not cute, but it’s actually really cute.
“Okay, I don’t know how long it will take to get going,” she says, laughing a little bit. “But we can get going.”
CHAPTER 8: KELLY
“Opposites Attract: What Makes Unlikely Couples Tick”
“The Boy Recession©” by Aviva Roth,
The Julius Journal
, October
“ W hich one of you is flam tap?” Hunter asks. “And which one is paradiddle?”
It’s third period on a Thursday in mid-October, and Hunter is holding a drumstick in each hand and pacing the bandstand behind three of our third-graders, who are sitting in chairs with drum pads on their laps. One is this tiny girl with two pigtails that stick straight out of her head, and the other two are boys—one calm and one with no front teeth.
“I’m flam tap!” No-Teeth Kid says, raising his hand and drumstick really high in the air.
Hunter takes his sticks and poises them over No-Teeth Kid’s head. Gently, he taps the kid’s head with each stick in rapid succession, saying, “flam,” and then with only the right stick, saying, “tap.”
No-Teeth Kid loves getting hit in the head—even really, really lightly. When Hunter is done, the third-grader tilts his head back and gives Hunter a gummy smile.
“Now you guys try it,” Hunter says. “All of you.
Flam
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