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around these guys, but I don’t have to be. I scrape my chair back and stand. “See you later,” I tell him before stomping off. I leave my tray, not even bothering to dump it. I wasn’t hungry anyway.
    Only one day left till my audition. I can hardly stand it. I’m not about to sit there and let them badger me. They torment me enough when there’s a huge gap of space between us. I should have figured they’d still do it with me right in front of them.
    Why did he have to make the team at all? Things were perfect before. Me and Todd. Todd and me. I still got made fun of like an awful circus act all through junior high and freshman year, but at least Todd was there so I wasn’t alone.
    “Piper!” Todd calls. “Hey. Piper, wait!”
    I weave through the tables, ignoring him, ignoring the lunchroom monitor and the other students in their own worlds. Stupidly, I peer over and find Jordan following my progress, and then Todd catches up to me just outside the bathrooms at the mouth of the cafeteria.
    “Hey, what’s going on?” he asks. Curls cover the creases on his forehead, but I can tell he’s bothered just the same. “Come sit with me.”
    If I’m going to tell him about the coughing it has to be now. But there’s no point. It will only make me sound pouty.
    Behind us, Jordan stands and opens his arms to Todd as if saying,
You coming or what?
    “I—I just…it’s my audition. I just don’t feel good.”
    “Piper.”
    “Go. Sit with your new friends, since they’re obviously who you want to be around. I’m gonna go practice.” Even though I already did this morning. Like I do every morning.
    “Piper,” Todd says again, in that same disbelieving tone.
    I stalk off, not looking behind this time because I don’t want to see what I already know. Todd, in total confusion, going back to his new pals. I head down the hallway, past the other bathrooms and offices, until I punch through the band room door at the other end of the school.
    I’m greeted by a lonely setup of chairs. Empty music stands sprout from the floor like huge black flowers. A smattering of
You Can Do It
and
Why Settle for Good When Better is Possible?
posters mock me. I weave around the drum set and the three timpani drums and other percussion equipment until I reach the practice room door.
    The same abandonment I felt when I realized Mom was never coming home caves in now, reeling and frothing like undulating waves. I long for my clarinet—to get lost in the escape music provides. I remember the first time I played,
really
played. It had been like a salve for my soul, supplementing the company I craved when Dad and Joel were trying to deal with Mom in their own ways. Joel had been a moody teenager, and Dad had coped by turning surlier than ever and never leaving his study. Leaving me alone instead.
    The practice room is so small my fingertips would touch both sides if I stood with my arms outstretched. I don’t even bother turning on the light, but sink to the floor, hugging my knees, and stick to a technique I don’t need any more practice in. Hiding.
    A soft knock taps at the door, and the hinges squeak as he opens it. “You okay in here?”
    I can’t help the warmth building in my chest. I should have known I couldn’t hide from Todd in here. He knows me too well.
    “How can you be friends with such jerks?” The question slips out, and I manage to swallow back the one I really want an answer to: How he can not only be friends with them, but have a gigantic crush on Sierra while he’s at it? I know he doesn’t like to talk about it. But it’s still there, making me despise her all the more.
    Todd sinks down. A slice of light sneaks in, displaying the worried look on his face. I stare at my knees and the bits of notebook paper shreddies on the carpet because this room never gets vacuumed. If he expects me to speak, he’ll be disappointed.
    “I’ve been training and practicing with the guys since the summer. You know that.