Page 100 of Rolls and Rivalry

“Next up are the ratings for Glen Vale High School. Ranking for musicality: Superior. For percussion: Superior.”

The five of us fly out of our seats.

“For auxiliary: Superior.”

Now we’re a jumping, shrieking mass of hysteria.

“Overall ranking: Superior!”

There’s definitely going to be permanent hearing loss in my future given the cacophony of screams around me.

The next thirty minutes are filled with hugs, more screaming, and lots of picture-taking because Mom and Melanie want to document every second. Dad hugs me for a long time when he gets his turn, and Mom hugs me even longer. She and I are both teary-eyed, and we don’t say much sincewe’ve already said it all, but I’m never going to forget how tightly she squeezes me or how I squeeze her back just as hard. Even Kelsey hugs both Max and me and tells us congratulations. She’s definitely more enthusiastic about Max’s hug than mine, but honestly, I can’t argue with her logic.

Finally we’re calm enough to talk in complete sentences again.

“It sounds like a lot of color guard families are going to celebrate at a new Italian restaurant close to here,” I tell my family.

“Then we’ll go there too,” Mom says immediately. “I’d love to catch up with their parents.”

I turn to Max. “Do you think you can convince your section to go?”

“I’m not sure I could stop them.”

“So guard and percussion are going to celebrate together?”

“It’s kind of fitting, actually,” he says. “I don’t think percussion would be half as good if we weren’t competing with you this season.”

“But what are you and I going to compete over now?” Iask.

“Settlers of Catan, finally?”

“Absolutely, but we already know who’ll win that one.” I tap my chin. “Maybe who gets to play most with Zoinks during D&D?”

“I’ve got the perfect one. Which of us gets the first kiss of the day.”

“Nope. It’s who gets the last kiss.” I kiss his cheek and dash away toward my parents’ car.

I hear footsteps, and then Max’s arms wrap around my waist from behind and pull me into his chest. “You’ll have a fight on your hands for that title.” His voice is low, and it sends a cascade of goose bumps down my arms.

I twist around and kiss him again. I’m happy to lose this particular competition to him every time.