How Do You Like The First Three Chapters Of A Short Teen Book I’m Writing?

Chapter 1: Simply Lucy
The hot summer sun shone through the windows in the family room as I sat waiting for something to happen. No matter how high I turned up air conditioning, the rays of heat beat across my body. But I imagine that no matter how high I blasted the a/c I’d still be hot with excitement. I was waiting.
Every summer day spent at home was the same. Some down time is always good, but my least favorite part of the summer is always those weeks and weeks of nothing before school begins. Usually, the weeks aren’t as bad because I have something to look forward to, but the international band was done and the next big event was marching band. I’d say that I hate it if I didn’t love playing my trumpet, but nine hours a day of marching back and forth a parking lot under blazing heat breaking only for ten minutes every few hours? Not exactly my idea of fun. However, the people in the band are wonderful enough to make this experience glorious. So why am I dreading it this year? Because of something I learned last year, band is about to become a whole lot more challenging.
I consider myself a musician in training, so I’m not dreading the music. I absolutely love playing my trumpet and I really would like to turn this hobby into a career. So I practice religiously and I’ve auditioned for and made a number of bands outside of the school upperclassmen band. This year I made an orchestra hosted by the local music school and that will be my first real orchestra. I’m super excited especially because I’m one of the only sophomore trumpet players to make the orchestra at the local music school ever, except of course for him.
He is one of the best trumpet players I have ever heard or at least for a person my age. So naturally, he’s easily found sitting at the top of the section of the most prestige bands and orchestras. To top it off, he goes to my school, lucky me, forever shadowing a prodigy. What this means is no matter how good I get, after he’s graduated, I still get to live in his shadow. Also, no matter how hard I work, I will always be overshadowed by him and never receive the respect I deserve. Oh how I long to cream him! I wish I could challenge him in an epic battle in front of the whole band and take his title from him. Unfortunately, I’m not quite ready to do that yet and even if I could I wouldn’t. Why? For some reason I have fallen head over heels for him.
He’s really sweet and sensitive, but most importantly shares my passion for music and trumpet. Being around him makes me feel so empowered and he encourages me every step of the way. I also deeply admire his trumpet playing, his time management ability, and how in his heart he seems to really know why he is here. He has all these wondrous qualities and yet doesn’t boast about it. I suppose one flaw that will make that other girls turn away is that he’s not exactly that good looking. But I still have a strong attraction to him. So I guess because of his personality, it’s no doubt that I like him.
Looking at all the time we spend together, one would think, “Hey, Lucy, you have a really good chance with this boy!” but I know better; I don’t stand a chance. For one thing, to him I’m a little girl. He’ll be a senior and I’ll be a sophomore. I know that that is only two years, but last year I was introduced to him as the freshman who will be in his band with him, and I have a reputation for being the young trumpet player. One of my nicknames is “Little Zach” or “Future Zach”, so the young girl is what he will know me as.
Another is that I am not attractive either. I’m very fat. I look like I swallowed a whale whole one morning and was too lazy (and too addicted to chocolate) to digest it all. My hair is crazy; mid-length goldish brown hair with bangs that never go the way I want them too. It’s usually in a sloppy mess. I suppose in my defense I have a charismatic smile and people say that my deep blue eyes are pretty. But even they are covered by big glasses. I truly believe that I have the power to fix this, but I suppose I’m just too lazy to get around and start.
But I’m not sure if I’m ready for everyone to know about how I like him or that I like him at all. Only three people in this world know about it, myself, one of my best friends and a girl who guessed it out of me and I’ve regretted telling her ever since. I scared and excited for the drama this will bring to the school year between me and Zach and between my best friend and hers (who is a whole new bowl of wax). Not to mention the extremely hard classes I elected to take. But no matter what life will bring for me, I will survive and remain simply Lucy. So this is the story of my sophomore year.
Chapter 2: Mary
“He responded, he responded!” she circled my chair and plopped on my bed. Her blue eyes were wild with anticipation and excitement. “Maybe this is the start to something! Maybe he’ll finally notice me!”
I grinned, entertained with her joy. “Well, what did he say?”
“He asked me how my summer was!”
I breathed in to reply but then held my breath sharp in my mouth. That’s all? That little comment was what was exciting her so? “Oh,” I said a little melodramatically, “And what did you say?”
“I…” she paused sensing how unimpressed I was. She sloughed back a little and sighed. “Do you really think that this means nothing?”
“No, no, no, no, no! For your situation right now any form of communication is very good. It just wasn’t much”
“Is that bad?”
I sighed, “Well, it definitely could be worse.”
At this Mary beamed. “Perhaps this could be the start of something!” However her big smile faded away quickly. I didn’t need to ask her what was wrong; I could tell that she knew that nothing would happen. Jumping off the bed, she dragged herself over to my mirror. She played with her short fire-red, bouncy hair and took off her glasses exposing her big, deep blue eyes; comparable to my own. Sighing she breathed, “I suppose he would never love someone as terribly ugly as me.”
I shot her a frustrated look. I hate it when she does this. Mary is so pretty but never gives herself any credit for it. I suppose she doesn’t care if the whole world thinks she is gorgeous as long as John doesn’t notice.
John is completely different from Zach. Unlike Zach, John is an attractive boy. He has a wonderful smile and dark brown hair which is never consistently the same length. His shoulders are strong and his skin is quite tan. John towers over Mary and Zach as well. However, he also plays trumpet, not very well, but I suppose he’s decent.
The main problem with John is he has a dead personality. He’s polite sure, but he says nothing and sits through life as if someone has a gun up to his head. He also barely knows that Mary exists which could prove to be potentially problematic.
“You know very well that you’re pretty, you don’t need me to remind you!”
“Yes, but then why doesn’t he love me?”
“John doesn’t know you!”
She paused, clearly contemplating what I had said. “Well maybe, but if I were beautiful he’d want to know me!”
“Mary” I turned and faced her, giving her a serious look, “do you honestly think that he is brave enough to walk up to a pretty girl and say ‘hey, you look gorgeous, wanna go out?’ No he’s not. Remember that just because you don’t know him doesn’t mean that I don’t either. But, this year when you sit next to each other in band…”
“Oh stop it! You know that I’m not good enough to sit next to him on either side.”
“And you also know that you purposely say that stuff so you won’t let yourself down when it doesn’t happen”
“I most certainly do not!” She looked a way with an air of discomfort. Mary isn’t a confident girl. She has so many talents and good in her but she can’t see it because she views herself narrowly and one-sided. This is a reason why most people want her to give up on John because he’s blinding her. I suppose you could call me a pro- Mary/John person, I know that she does, but in reality, I’m really just a pro-Mary’s happiness person. I’ll never tell her that because I’m worried about how she’d take knowing that I don’t really care whether she goes out with him or not. That could come off as something it isn’t and ruin our friendship.
“I honestly believe that I’m not good enough. I mean listen to yourself, listen to Zach! You guys are AMAZING! And then listen to John, he’s really good! And then listen to me. You’re ears would just… die”
“Stop that! You’re not bad! John isn’t all that good and I’m not amazing.”
“Come on, you made the orchestra at the U, you’re obviously amazing! Cathy could beat me easy!”
“No she couldn’t!” Cathy is another sophomore trumpet player. The band director, Mr. Beirbell, put all of the first chairs of the freshman band into the upperclassmen band. I was already there for my freshman year so that means that Cathy was first chair. I’ll always have a spot in my heart that fears her because she used to be real competition for me until I had a huge trumpet growth spurt. Actually, I owe most of the sudden improvement to her because I wanted to beat her so I practiced and I did. If it weren’t for Cathy I wouldn’t be were I am today. She’s really is no threat to me now and I like her, but I will always keep one eye on her. It’s also important to the dirty part of my soul to be better than her so I never allow myself to think that she’s any good. But I will give her this: Cathy is a good to average sophomore trumpet player. Why Mary thinks that that could beat her, a good to average junior trumpet player, remains a mystery to me. Mary’s only problem is that she is a touch under-practiced and very unconfident. I know that if Mary gave herself some credit and stopped worrying about looking conceited I would have to start watching her! “As much as I like Mr. Beirbell, he’s not that intelligent about chair placements. But he’s honestly not that stupid!”
“I want to be good so much!”
“Don’t worry about it. You’re fine”
“But I’m not amazing! I know I’ll never be anything like you…”
“Please don’t. I’m not amazing. I’m just a student.”
“Not long. Soon you’ll be a famous professional trumpeter! I know it!”
I gave her a weak smile. Yes, I love hearing people say that because it makes me feel like maybe everything wasn’t stolen by Zach. But it really doesn’t mean as much to hear her say it as much as it would from Mr. Beirbell. As sweet as she is, she doesn’t understand how competitive music is. She doesn’t understand that America only needs so many of us and that it’s a dog eat dog world out there. Now, to hear that from someone like Mr. Beirbell who really understands that would be the best thing ever. However, he will never notice me because of Zach. He gave my parents a lecture on how wonderful it would be if I learned from him and how amazing Zach is during my parent-teacher conference. I don’t think he knows how badly that hurts someone who wants to become a professional more than anything else she’s ever wanted.
A car horn sounded and Mary was dumped into her mother’s car. This would be the last I would see of her until marching band. I told her I’m looking forward to it, but as I said it a knot formed in my stomach. I’m not sure if it was an excitement knot or a nervous knot. But marching band, like Zach, was a reality I’d have to face sooner or later.
Chapter 3: Little Girls and Big Boys
“Lucy, hurry you don’t want to be late!”
“I’m working on it Mom”
The day had come; the first day of marching camp. I cleaned out my trumpet the previous day although cleaning it just to dirty it again was a little pointless. I found my lire, bought sunscreen almost adequate enough for this, found the old marching charts and now all I had to do was fix myself.
My hair was crazy. I must not have combed it very well after my shower because my bangs were sticking up in all directions. The round glasses on my face weren’t helping either. I would completely pass as twelve if I weren’t so fat and so freakishly tall. My goal with band is to always look like serious competition; reminding Zach and Mr. Beirbell that I’m a little kid is not desired. However, being late would make a worse impression so I took a comb and dashed it with water. If water could make it crazy maybe it can flatten it also. My mom was pulling out of the driveway when I finally caught up with her and jumped in the car.
I think what a lot of people don’t realize about me is how I want to be pretty. People see me as the innocent girl that doesn’t really care about boys or anything. My parents do too and part of my brain wants me to be sweet and innocent. But I have this huge part that longs to be beautiful. I secretly want to be that beautiful girl that all the boys want but no one can touch. The one that makes the boys drool and then plays with them. Reel them in and then push them away without any second thoughts. But the reality is I don’t have that power. I’ve never had a boyfriend before and I don’t think that will change this year.
Maybe I can change my image this year. Maybe I can make people see me as a young women and not a freakishly tall two year old. Life would be so much better if people saw that I’m not the little girl I used to be. My trumpet teacher would give me real music, Mr. Beirbell would take me seriously, and maybe Zach would give me the time of day. But these are all just dreams that mean nothing until I work for them.
The car screeched to a stop and I half-heartily walked into the busy band room of people talking and playing their instruments. Everyone was rushing to the table to retrieve their marching charts and their nametags.
“Hey, you don’t need to get tangled in that swarm” a familiar voice says behind me.
“Lizzy!” I turned around and to face one of my closest friends.
“Yeah, I took the liberty of grabbing you a chart and your nametag. But I don’t see why you’d need it. Everyone knows who you are!” Liz smiled up at me with loving brown eyes. Liz is completely different from Megan. For one thing, she really doesn’t care or notice the guys at all. Liz keeps herself completely shut out of the real world by obsessing over school work and cramming her schedule with clubs. She is a big geek; a member of the Robotics Team, Science Olympiad, oceanography, the Mathletes and band. She doesn’t realize that by doing this she doesn’t make more friends, she loses them. She’s always running back and forth between these groups and her homework that no one gets to really meet her. I’ve been her only consistent friend for a while now. Liz is so nice and caring that being around her makes me feel guilty but no one else knows that because of her stressed out façade. But the conversation with Liz didn’t last long because we were interrupted by Mary. She ran up looking pale and flabbergasted.
“Lucy, you got to see this!”
“What, are you okay?”
“Oh yeah, but oh my gosh!”
“What?”
I found myself being pulled over to the leadership board. Mary was a fabulous conductor and she has auditioned for the role of assistant drum major. I knew she’d make it, but she as usual doubted herself. She pushed past her way through the crowd and placed me in front of the board. I quickly scanned for her name under assistant and I sure enough found it. I turned to congratulate her but she shook her head and pointed to the drum major list. I scrolled down the list until my eyes caught a name.
“John A. Sysleton” I breathed.
“Yeah”
We knew that he’d get it and yet we still stood in awe for a couple seconds.
“You do know what this means, Mary?”
“Shhhh! Not here!”
We relocated to band storage room. It’s a place that most people aren’t allowed in but because she’s a member of leadership and I’m Mr. Beirbell’s favorite sophomore, we have access.
“You will be spending a whole lot more time with him. He’ll ask you to perform petty tasks and you know just…”
“Lucy, I can’t do this.”
“What are you talking about? You’ll be great!”
“I’m gonna have to drop out”
“No Mary! This is exactly what you need!”
“Hm?”
“Time to get to know him. So he can meet the remarkable girl I know”
“But what if he doesn’t think so?”
“Then he’s an idiot. Just go out there and show him! I mean it’s his senior year, what could happen?”
“Ha! Right after you go show Zach!”
“I was planning to!”
“Well, then me too!”
We exchanged confident glances. But at the sound of a whistle, they fell. It was time for us to report to the band room. These promises were much easier said than done and marching band had officially started.