The band room is quieter the next day, not as much laughter, and everyone is moving slowly. It"s not the tired aimlessness of last Friday, but a distracted, despondent "we must carry on" attitude. Our drum major looks lost.
I put my flute together and run my hands over the cool, smooth metal before playing a couple of warm-up scales. I want to be here, but I"m not focused.
"Announcements." Ms. Cortez is at the podium and appears more tired than I"ve ever seen her. She"s always been a ball of energy. "I didn’t say anything last night because the situation was constantly changing, but there was a car accident yesterday afternoon involving four of our band members."
There are gasps and a few rumbles of conversation. I"m so deep in it; I forgot that people who aren"t close to those inv
