Page 21 of Okay, Cupid

“Fine.” She nudges me.

“Thank you,” Mr. Lawson says with relief in his voice. “Show Jude the ropes. It’ll be easy.”

Alice nods toward the chairs where kids are putting their things away and readying their instruments. “Come with me.”

“What’s an alternate?” I ask her as I follow her toward the large drum set tucked off to the side.

“Normally, we’d have two drum players, in case something goes wrong,” Alice tells me. “But also, I need someone to turn my sheet music. I can’t exactly do it myself.” She picks up the drumsticks.

It’s embarrassing to admit that’s when I realize that, yeah, a drummer can’t exactly turn their own sheet music. I guess I just never thought of it before.

“So that’s your job now.”

“Do orchestras usually have drum sets?” I ask her. I feel like my impressions of orchestras usually have that one huge drum with the big sticks. But Alice takes a seat in front of a full set, like one a band might use.

“It’s a jazz orchestra, so yeah, we have a drum set.” Alice pulls a stool around and points. “You’ll sit here and read the sheet music.” Then she pauses. “You can read sheet music, right?”

“Oh, totally, yep!” I nod.

“Okay, good.”

Except I absolutely cannot read sheet music. I can’t even make it through one full round of practice without revealing myself either. The song comes to an end and Alice grabs on to her cymbals to stop them.

“What was that?” she asks.

“I thought that … I don’t—”

“You were all over the place, dude.” At least she keeps her voice down to limit the shame I feel.

“I’m sorry. I thought I knew what I was doing.”

“Yeah, clearly you don’t.”

“I’m sorry,” I repeat.

“Just turn when I tell you to turn, okay?”

I don’t say another word for fear of making the situation worse. I hate to admit that I feel like crying, but the way she talks to me stings. For the first time I consider going to Richard and begging him for a different assignment, a new couple to help. Because I have zero clue how I’m supposed to help this girl fall back in love.

No wonder Huy dumped her.

At least, I’m assuming he was the dumper.

I close my eyes, breathing carefully. No, this isn’t fair to her. I did fuck up, and I did lie. I just have to try harder next time.

And I guess learn how to read sheet music.

• • •

Next comes the class that I’ve been dreading the most. I can fake it in English, and try my best in math. I’ve even already bookmarked YouTube videos about learning to read sheet music and various kitchen safety techniques I was told to learn in culinary arts.

But PE?

Weight lifting?

Yeah, no.

Coach Thompson calls me toward him when I walk in, picking me right out of the students as the unfamiliar face. He gives me a whole speech, assuring me that I’m not the only nonbinary or trans student in the period, and that the locker rooms are coed with privacy curtains for those who prefer to use them. And he seems genuinely proud of the steps the school takes to ensure inclusion, which is honestly pretty admirable.