Jandy Nelson
She opens her case, starts putting together her instrument. "Joe studied at a conservatory in Fronce. Did he tell you?" Of course she doesn't say France so it rhymes with dance like a normal English-speaking human being. I can feel Sarah bristling beside me. She has zero tolerance for Rachel ever since she got first chair over me, but Sarah doesn‘t know what really happened — no one does.
Rachel's tightening the ligature on her mouthpiece like she's trying to asphyxiate her clarinet. "Joe was a fabulous second in your absence." she says, drawing out the word fabulous from here to the Eiffel Tower.
I don't fire-breathe at her: "Glad everything worked out for you, Rachel." I don't say a word, just wish I could curl into a ball and roll away. Sarah, on the other hand, looks like she wishes there were a battle-ax handy.
The room has become a clamor of random notes and scales. "Finish up tuning, I want to start at the bell today," Mr. James calls from the piano. "And take out your pencils. l’ve made some changes to the arrangement."