I can hear the whoosh of air as hundreds of heads turn toward the man who has just walked through the gym doors. He’s dressed up, with brown, almost mirror-polished dress shoes and a dapper collared shirt. As he struts across the wooden floor, littered with backpacks, coats, folders, and musical instruments, a line of teenage boys begins to grow behind him. He crosses midcourt, and the calm act I’ve been trying to put on for the past six hours begins to erode.

 

My hands have been clammy for as long as I can remember, and my aching body can hardly stand waiting a minute longer. All-state auditions have been stressful, with hundreds of band and choir kids gathered under one roof for almost twelve hours. I’ve never auditioned for all-state before, and while I walked into my audition confident, my sense of pride has begun to fall apart. I started practicing during the summer and went to an all-state choir camp for three days, where I learned and nearly memorized the five all-state pieces that were selected. Three months of hard work had all come down to a five-minute audition on a chilly Saturday in October.

 

The man reaches the three-point line. A rambunctious crowd of tenor singers is growing rapidly around the baseline, waiting for the list to be taped to the wall. This list will reveal the 29 tenors out of the hundred or so who auditioned and will make it to all-state. While I might look calm on the outside, my head is exploding with thoughts. As I slowly stand up to make my way toward the wall, my mind argues with itself. I’ve worked harder than anyone; I’ll definitely make it! There are so many talented people here; I don’t have a chance. I can feel my heart accelerate and my muscles tense in anticipation.

 

As the man reaches the free-throw line, I slowly begin to walk. My body shivers, not only from the cold in the gym but from the nervousness coursing through my veins. The crowd grows larger as shouts and screams echo around the gymnasium. The sound of bleachers creaking pierces through the noise, and it sounds as if a herd of elephants has burst onto the court. Items on the ground are knocked aside and stepped on, the only care being whose name is on the list.

 

The man reaches the baseline. My thoughts become a whirlwind, with ideas of success and failure clattering around inside, driving my anxiety through the roof as I inch ever closer to the crowd, wondering if I really belong with them. This is my first year; can I really make it? I’ve worked for so long; I’ve got to have a chance! The crowd continues to grow at an alarming rate, but my fear keeps me from joining in. I continue to slowly walk forward like a shy kid on the playground looking for a friend.

 

The man reaches the padded wall under the hoop and sticks the list onto the wall, letting it unfurl like a servant opening a scroll for a king. My heart feels like it’s been running a marathon, with the sounds of the gym starting to seem far away and faint. The nap I took earlier in the day doesn’t have any effect on me now as I feel far from rested. I merge into the crowd and try to make my way toward the front. Images of my audition flash through my head as I look back on every mistake I could have possibly made. My doubts begin to creep in. I push through the sea of teenage boys and get closer to the front. I can begin to make out names, and I don’t see my name at the top. Fear begins to show, and I anxiously push even closer so I can see. My eyes dart down the paper and panic at the sight of anything even remotely resembling my name. I’ve got to be here somewhere. My gaze reaches the bottom.

 

My name isn’t there.

 

My head pounds, and the gym seems to go almost quiet. It can’t end like this, can it? I scan the list again, hoping I made a mistake and simply missed my name the first time. Once I reach the bottom, I start from the top again. And again. And again. Finally, I accept the fact that my name isn’t there. Hiding my disappointment, I turn around and push my way out of the crowd.

 

The months of hard work echo throughout my head, now seeming like a massive waste of time. What was this all for? My mind reaches for something to ease the pain. I think about what I could have done differently, the small things I could have improved upon. I think of all the hours of hard work. I think of all the people who supported me. I think of how far I’ve come. And the cloudy sky that is my mind begins to turn blue. I grab my scattered belongings and walk out of the gym, the mob still gathered around the list.