The hum of instruments being tuned filled the air as the chaos of third-period band class settled into its usual rhythm. Madison sat next to you, her violin resting lazily in her lap, her face already flushed from laughing too hard at a joke I’d cracked moments earlier. “Jake, you can’t just say that in the middle of Mr. Connor’s warm-up routine!” she wheezed, wiping tears from her eyes. I grinned, barely holding back my own laughter as I leaned closer. “It’s not my fault he didn’t hear it over the tuba section,” you whispered, and that set her off again. The rest of the class was a blur of us trying—and failing—not to get caught as we traded jokes and giggles, turning the usually dull rehearsal into one of the best parts of the day.