Everyday she moans about going to band and grumbles about it,
all through first bell.
She winces when she looks at her French horn,
and doesn’t mind the least bit when she drops it.
She rolls her eyes at the band director,
and his random and quirky moods.
She shakes her head at the marching band kids
and wonders why the kids stay after school in the band room.
She grinds her teeth when she needs to play in front of the whole band.
She makes faces at the cocky sophomores when they aren’t looking.
She’s always on the verge of pulling her hair out
when the director won’t stop working with the trumpets.
She hates going to mandatory concerts and contests
and detests being in the pep band.
She says that she won’t play the flute anymore after this year, because six years are enough.
But even if she won’t be there tomorrow, she’s still in band today.

She’s still in band because of the pep band.
She loves the liveliness around her and loves the energy in the gym.
She doesn’t even watch the game,
but that doesn’t matter,
because she’s so glad to be a part of something so fun and energized.

She’s still in band because of that dreamy senior,
the one with those chocolate-brown eyes.
The one who has that shaggy brown hair
and is kinda loud and obnoxious
and plays the alto sax.
The junior who’s too good for her,
but she loves to dream about the what-ifs.

She’s still in band because there’s the director who believes.
She loves how dedicated and energized the he is.
Even if he’s weird, he knows that she can play it right,
even when she doesn’t.

She’s still in band because of the first-chair French horn,
who is modest and sweet.
The girl with the white-blond hair and a bright smile.

She’s still in band because of the satisfaction she gets out of being in a team.
She’s still in band because she really,
secretly,
loves it.