Read the next two selections. Then choose the best answer to each question.

Finally Home

¹ “If you can’t make friends in a small high school, how do you think you’ll make friends once you go to college?” my father had asked. I sighed and picked up my drumsticks as I pondered yesterday’s conversation with my father. “Maybe Dad is right,” I thought. “Maybe there is something wrong with me, and I’ll never have real friends.”

² I closed my eyes and began playing a steady rhythm, calming the turmoil in my brain. I loved that vacant garage. It was the perfect place to practice my drumming without anyone bothering me or judging me.

³ The year before, my parents had relocated our family to the minuscule town of De Monde, where my sophomore class contained exactly 15 students. Most of the other girls were already paired off as best friends, and I was uncertain about how to begin making a friend. This was because I had never been part of any particular group. I simply wasn’t that interested in fashion, gossip, or reality television shows, although I occasionally wished I would get invited to parties and other social activities.

⁴ Thinking about my social life made me irritated and restless. I hopped off my drum stool and headed over to Dot’s Restaurant for a snack.

⁵ On the walk over I heard the sharp twang of an electric guitar that halted abruptly.

⁶ “I think we should begin the song with the chorus chords,” a male voice said, and then someone counted off, “One, two, three, four!” The music started again.

⁷ Overwhelmed with curiosity, I followed the sound down a narrow cobblestone walkway. A green wooden door was slightly ajar, and I peeked inside. Two boys and a girl sat on metal folding chairs. One boy was strumming his guitar and singing, while the other played bass. The girl was playing keyboards, and a trumpet rested beside her. I recognized the guitar player.

⁸ “Hey, I recognize you—you’re Cassie from my class!” The guitarist’s voice startled me.

⁹ “I’m sorry,” I apologized quickly. “I just haven’t heard any live music in this town before! You sound terrific—did you guys write that song?”

¹⁰ “Yeah—well, we’re still working on it. I’m Matt.” The guitarist hopped up and held out his hand. “We’ve been practicing for three months, and now we’re getting ready for our first performance next Friday night at the park.”

¹¹ I shook Matt’s hand and then met Jorge, the bass player. I said hello to Janis, the keyboardist. She smiled but seemed a little distant. “Maybe I’m too young,” I thought. “Maybe my clothes are lame.” I slid my hands into my pockets and attempted to smile confidently.

¹² “Mind if I listen in?” I asked.

¹³ “Not at all,” Matt said, grinning. “Maybe you can offer some feedback!”

¹⁴ I sat against the wall and listened. The song was actually pretty good. In my head I could hear drum rhythms that would probably improve the song, but I felt hesitant to mention my drumming skills. Behind my drum set was the one place I felt completely like myself. I wasn’t sure I wanted to open that door to the world.

¹⁵ “Hey, do you play drums?” Matt inquired suddenly.

¹⁶ My mouth gaped open. How did he know? And then I followed his eyes to my hands, which had been beating a rhythm on the floor beside me. I attempted to shrug nonchalantly, but my heart was jackhammering. Finally I said, “Sure, I’ve been playing for a few years.”

¹⁷ “Oh, wow! You’ve got to join us!” Jorge exclaimed. “I have some drums over here.”

¹⁸ I glanced at Janis, who was quietly studying me. Suddenly she smiled shyly and asked, “Will you play? That would be fantastic.”

¹⁹ I exhaled slowly. Janis had seemed so confident, but she was just as self-conscious as me. I wasn’t too young, too unfashionable, or too weird. “Absolutely. I would love to play!” I said, hopping to my feet.

²⁰ “One, two, three, four!” Jorge counted, and I set a solid rhythm as the band joined in. Matt winked at me and began singing, and I knew I was finally home.