Being in the Band's Odd Like That

Marching band is Kadence's life. The only downfall? Rocky Billings. But when Kadence breaks up with her abusive boyfriend, she finds herself oddly attracted (?!) to Rocky. Why? Well, because being in the band's odd like that.


3. 3

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Hearing my alarm clock go off, I groaned and sat up. I rubbed my eyes, hitting the ‘off’ button. I looked around, rolled out of the bed--literally, I hit the floor--and went over to my closet. Today was the day: contest. And our school was hosting.

I loved band contest; no one gives a shit about the band on Friday nights, but when contest rolled around, people came to see us. Just as I pulled out my Big Time Rush shirt, I heard my door crack open. I looked over. “Oh, hey Ruby.”

My younger sister of a year entered my room. “Goody, you’re up. Hey, I was wondering if you could help me with my homework.”

I rolled my eyes. She was in all AP classes and knew damn well I wasn’t that advanced. Actually, she was the family favorite and could be as annoying as she wanted. It’s so irritating. “No.”

Her eyes lit up the moment she saw what I was holding. “Are you wearing that into school?”

I stared down at she logoed shirt, thinking. “No.” I handed it to her. “You can have it.” She gasped as I explained. “It’s too small for me--my boobs grew.” Which was a complete lie. I just didn’t want Michel to see me in it. It would be useless to own if I couldn’t wear it myself.

Suddenly the phone rang. Leaving Ruby to awe at her newest treasure, I went to pick up the cord less.

“Hello?” I asked, slightly disguising my voice. I hadn’t checked the caller ID, so it very well could have been a telemarketer.

“Kadence, it’s me.”

“Oh. M-Michel. Hold on. Ruby, I need to get ready, sis. Are you gonna watch the band?”

“I’m not watching you losers. Later.”

She left and I huffed. “’Kay, I’m back.”

“So there’s a contest today?”

“Yeah, I told you that Thursday. Why?”

“Don’t get snappy, God. Maybe I’d planned us a day together.” That I highly doubted. “Hey Kadence, about yesterday: did I hurt you?”

I frowned, unable to believe he’d just asked me that. See, this is where his personalities changed. He’d hurt me then be sorry about it. Every time it was the same; everytime I wanted to hate myself. “A bit.” Standing, I went over to my mirror. I noticed a large purple bruise that would show through the keyhole of my shirt.

“I’m sorry.”

“Just leave it Michel,” I requested, feeling to weak to argue. “Did you seriously have a day planned?”

“Eh, no. Just--It’s fine. I can do something else. Come by my house after contest and tell me how things go? Please? I promise my mother’s here. You like my mom, right?”


“She’s want to know how it went. Well, good luck baby.”

“Hmm.” I wasn’t listening. I was running my hand over my bruise and wincing slightly in pain.

“Love you.”

“Same. Bye.” I hung up, still focusing on my back. This wasn’t going to work, especially if we wore our hair up. Everyone could see it. ‘Why can’t he just be normal and give me a hickey instead?’ I thought, chuckling pathetically.

Shaking my head, I began packing my contest bag. Why did I have a strange feeling this was going to be a long day?

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