heard you audition last May, and Iâve heard you practice in sectionals and on your own. Youâre exactly what we look for in the chamber orchestra.â
The idea that all those times heâd been practicing were auditions freaked Giles out. âBut Iâm not a music major.â
âThereâs no such requirement. Did you not know your section leader is pre-med?â
Giles did, but Karen Stacy was her own level of overachievement. âI just donât think Iâm quite what maybe you think I am.â
Allison raised a wooly white eyebrow. âI donât think so. I think youâll start practicing tonight, and when Karen sets up special practice sessions for you, youâll attend. Though if youâre worried, I have a few lesson spots open. I was surprised you hadnât signed up yet.â
Now Giles felt guilty. âIâI meant to. Itâs not that I donât take it seriouslyâ¦â
Giles fully expected Allison to be disappointed in him, but the conductor only continued to appear amused. âNo, youâre simply human. I understand. Of course, itâs perfectly acceptable for you to decline the advanced placement orchestras and continue as you are. I chose you because you strike me as a talented young man who enjoys musicâand perhaps was in the need of a greater challenge.â
âI donât want to decline. Iâmâ¦honored. Thank you. And if thereâs lesson space, yes, Iâd love it.â
He did work his tail off. âCanon in Dâ heâd played so many times he could perform it drunkâthe song was apparently a Saint Timothy staple, and alumni were allowed to join the current members and play along. But the rest of the music he had to learn put him through his paces, and between the two orchestras Giles had eight pieces of music to learn. With his quartet group the total was nine. He practically lived in the music building now, hovering outside his reserved practice room for his chance to rehearse, going over fingerings as he zoned out during Intro to Psychology, tapping out rhythms on his plastic tray in the cafeteria line.
He was so busy he didnât have time to obsess about Aaron Seavers and his adoring throng, though he did occasionally note how nobody hosted parades for violin virtuosos unless they looked like Joshua Bell. The ones with big ears they worked to death.
âItâs going to kill me,â he complained to Brian after returning from a grueling sectional and quartet rehearsal. He collapsed onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling in a daze. âTheyâre all so good. I have no idea what Iâm doing there.â
âI bet youâre fine.â Brian tossed him their communal bag of Twizzlers Nibs.
Giles pulled out a handful of candy and put it mindlessly into his mouth. It tasted like tangy wax, but as soon as the sugar burned into his bloodstream, he didnât care. âThese groups are a lot smaller. I canât drop out and let the others cover me on a rough patch.â
They ate more candy as the main-menu music for Halo 2 played in the background.
Brian broke the silence. âThe weird thing is, as stressed out as you are, I donât think Iâve seen you this happy before.â
Giles thought about that for a minute and laughed. âYouâre right.â
Brian picked up his controller and scrolled mindlessly through the menu options. âItâs too bad you donât want to major in music.â
âThere are no jobs. The three majors are music ed, music therapy and music performance. I donât want to teach, and I donât think Iâm zealous enough for performance. Plus, they all starve or play street corners.â He popped more Nibs. âIâve half-considered music therapy, but Iâm already too late.â
âWhatâs music therapy, and how are you late? Weâre only in the first semester of
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