# Mindy Vega and the Stadium Echo
Mindy Vega lived with a quiet, stubborn thought that followed her like a shadow: *If I don’t do it myself, it won’t be good.*
She didn’t say it out loud. It showed in how she double-checked every group project and always volunteered to “just handle it.” Mindy didn’t even notice she was doing it—until the day she tried to build a band.
It happened on a windy Friday after school. A thump-thump of drums floated down the hallway, accompanied by a guitar squeal that sounded brave. Rock music didn’t ask permission. It kicked the door open.
Mindy paused outside the music room. She didn’t have a band or an instrument, but she had ideas—rhythms tapped on her desk and song titles scribbled in math homework. If she could just find the right people…
“Are you going in or just haunting the doorway?”
Mindy turned. Esther Park stood there with a violin case on her back.
“I’m not haunting,” Mindy said. “I’m… listening.”
Esther nodded toward the noise. “Sounds like a garage door fighting a lawnmower.”
“That’s rock,” Mindy said. She stepped inside.
The music room smelled of old wood and floor cleaner. The older kids were packing up, leaving the space open. Mindy spotted a battered red electric guitar on a stand. She reached out, mesmerized.
“Careful,” said the music teacher, Ms. Dima, appearing suddenly. “That’s a school instrument. You can try it during club time, but it’s not a toy.”
Behind Mindy, Devin Ortiz burst into the room, hair wild. He carried drumsticks and a lunchbox. “Ms. Dima! Sorry I’m late. Are we forming a secret club?”
“Not yet,” Esther said, drifting in behind them.
Mindy’s brain clicked. Devin played drums in the jazz band. Esther played violin. And then there was Felicia Grange, who walked in quietly carrying an acoustic guitar with a sticker that said *READ MORE*.
