She’s the band director’s aid. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of her through the small rectangular window in Mr. Brandt’s band room door as I pass by on my way to football. Today I’m feeling brave. I peek in the door and see Sophie sitting at the piano. She’s playing a soft, hypnotic melody. I stand for just a moment getting lost in the piece with her. I sure don’t want to appear to be a creeper, so I crack the creaky band room door open further. She is all alone. "Hey, Forrest!" Sophie senses the door opening, stops playing and greets me cheerfully. I grin widely as I enter, casually surveying the room. It’s filled with shiny brass instruments, bongos, drums, xylophones, bells, and black, mottled music stands. She smiles back and gushes enthusiastically, "I heard about your trip to Sweden. Wow, Forrest!! You’re opening for KISS!" Her friendly face is all lit up. "I also heard "Rocket" on the radio this morning. The song is soooo catchy! It’s really great. I know you’ve got to be beyond excited,”
