I pull the studio door open and exit before Reid finishes his sentence, unable to stop my brain from looping back to my dad praising Reid. Especially after how I reacted to the songs. It makes me regret letting my guard down, even for a moment. I’m not going to let his musical talent overrule my vision. It’s a necessary reality check, a reminder that codirecting with Reid is absolutely a problem with no real solution.

Because when it comes to Reid and music, it will always be a competition.

Even when we’re supposed to be on the same team.

Outplayed

At the start of seventh grade, I, Natalie Jacobson, was the best clarinetist at Lincoln Middle School.

First chair was validation. The hours I spent practicing every day, the battle blisters I’d overcome—it was all worth it. According to Mrs. Sullivan, I was the best. Me. First chair proved that I was a talented musician, proved that my dad was investing his energy into the wrong student.

“Congratulations!” Madeline’s arms wrapped around me in a surprise hug from behind, since alto saxophones sat in the second row.

“Good job,” Reid said, disassembling his clarinet with a shrug. “You outplayed me.”

I raised my eyebrows, suspicious, but decided to play nice. I mean, we’d have to sit next to each other all year, so might as well try to be civil. Plus, I won.

There was no point in being a jerk.

Except that ended up not being the case. Because of course, his sportsmanship was temporary. Within a week, it became clear that Reid was on a mission to make my band life as miserable as possible.

After class ended, Reid walked right up to Madeline as she was breaking down her saxophone. “Hey, Madeline—” Reid swallowed, nervous “—I was wondering if, um, maybe you… wanted to see the new Captain America movie this weekend?”

I hid my smirk as I was unscrewing the ligature on my clarinet to remove my reed, anticipating the look on Reid’s face when he got turned down for the second time in two weeks.

“Sure. Okay,” Madeline answered simply.

My reed snapped in half.

I turned around in my chair, first chair, so fast to see Madeline was grinning nervously at Reid and he was smiling back—not smirking, smiling.

Nothing made sense.

Madeline’s eyes met mine after Reid walked away, wide with a hint of guilt.

“Are you mad?”

“I’m confused. We hate Reid. But you’re going on a movie date with him?”

Madeline closed her saxophone case. “I know you have history. But I think Reid is cool. I… don’t think I want to be a part of that.”