A Fine Line

by Courtney Brandt

  You don’t even think you are partially to blame? Some part of you let them think that you were a total stud.

  Wes cringed. He hadn’t been super forthcoming about denying what they thought had happened, nor had he done a lot of damage control when he had heard the rumors the next day, but that still didn’t change his feelings for Lucy or what had happened between them that night. He had never felt more entirely perfect than when he went to sleep with Lucy cradled against him.

  And now you’ve gone and wrecked that entirely…

  There’s got to be a way to get her back.

  Good luck with that.

  That night at the game, Lucy looked down at the field, rubbing her hands together, trying to get warm. It was an Away game this week, for which she was grateful – there was something entirely too personal about the home field for now. Lucy turned away, trying not to remind herself that next week the marching band would be playing a lame song while the Forrest Hills High School Homecoming Court was paraded down the field. Then, a brilliant idea dawning on her, for the first time in a week, Lucy’s green eyes sparkled and she made her way over the Auxiliary sections.

  There was no way Wes could see what was going on in the stands, but it was bad enough that he knew Lucy was up there. He tried to concentrate on the game which actually turning out to be a close one, but his heart wasn’t in it.

  “How’re you feeling?” a distinctively female voice asked.

  Wes looked away while he rolled his eyes. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with the lead cheerleader’s blatant come-ons. He answered, “Fine,” hoping she would take the hint and get back to her pom poms.

  “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to make you feel better,” she said, whispering in his ear in a tone that made Wes’s skin crawl.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t,” the kicker said sarcastically as soon as she was out of earshot. Turning his attention back to the game, Wes felt butterflies in his stomach when he glanced at the scoreboard. The Forrest Hills team was down by two and the offense was only just within field goal range. With ten seconds left, no time outs, Wes knew it was his time. He had been loosening up, dreading this moment. Usually he had utmost confidence in his athletic ability, but tonight…

  Wes joined the huddle, not surprised when everyone was staring at him expectantly. Suddenly his throat was so dry, and he could barely swallow. As the team broke into formation, the transfer student had a bad feeling.

  “Hut!”

  The ball was snapped, the center snatched it out of the air and set it up. Wes ran up and kicked the ball as hard as he could. The football hung in the air for a few seconds and then went…wide right of the goal posts. The umpires crossed their arms in unison. The buzzer sounded loudly and Forrest Hills lost by two points.

  Wes watched in disbelief. He couldn’t remember the last time he had missed a kick. He could blame a lot of things – kicking from the 40 yard line, the weather, the pressure – but the reality was that he missed.

  From the stands, Lucy couldn’t take her eyes off of Wes. A small part of her wondered how he was feeling.

  Don’t give him another thought.

  But that has to be rough…

  Then, as if she hadn’t been through enough this week, Lucy watched Tiffany walk over and put her arm around Wes to console him as he walked off the field.

  Forget him.

  * * *

  CHAPTER TWENTY: The Smallest What?

  At Waffle House that night over scattered, smothered, and covered hash browns, Lucy explained her idea to the upperclassmen of the Line, who were immediately on board. The bass drummer looked around the table and said, “You know, if Izzo finds out that the idea came from me and was executed by our section, there’s a chance he won't let us go to Indoor, right?”

  No one said anything before Billy announced, “C’mon Luce, we already have enough wins and trophies in the case, so what if we don’t go?”

  Lucy’s heart soared that she, the one-time outsider and still oboist, would be so accepted unflinchingly. When she finally found her voice, she replied, “I know we feel that way, but what about the underclassmen and all their hard work?”

  On behalf of said underclassmen, J.D. spoke up, “I think it’s more important the future of the Line understands we look after our own before we worry about some cheap pieces of plastic.”

  With the emotional roller coaster she had been on over the past two weeks, Lucy wanted to burst into tears, but instead smiled and said, “Alright then, next stop, Drum majors.”

  At Tuesday’s practice, Lucy walked down to the field, placed her bass drum near the sidelines and then walked over to the Pit. Winking at Molly, she asked, “Can I borrow Bronwyn for a few?”

  Molly shrugged and nodded. The redheaded freshman was the only one in her section that did not need to work on the Indoor show, “Go ahead.”

  Bronwyn looked at Lucy, “What’s up?”

  “I need some help.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “To talk to the Drum majors.”

  Bronwyn stopped in her tracks and shook her head.

  Lucy pleaded, “I need you.”

  “What for? You’re better friends with Fred and D-Drew than I’ll ever be.”

  Lucy shook her head and put a hand on her hip, “That is definitely not true. Don’t think I haven’t seen you and Drew talking all the time. What I’m going to ask for is going to take both of our combined efforts.”

  Bronwyn reluctantly agreed to be drug over to where the Drum majors were going over the new Homecoming music, which was a compilation of Sinatra songs.

  Lucy punched Fred lightly on the shoulder, “What’s up, buddy?”

  Bronwyn, this close to Drew, simply froze up. Looking at her now mute friend, Lucy continued, “So, I’m sure both of you have heard the rumors regarding myself and a certain member of the football team?”

  Drew and Fred were smart enough not to say a single word.

  “Anyways, I have some plans and they all start with you…” Lucy looked at the underclassman next to her for help, and not sensing any, began explaining. As Lucy detailed her idea, Bronwyn’s blue grey eyes grew big.

  When Lucy was done talking, Fred looked at Drew who looked at Bronwyn who asked quietly, “Please?”

  In that moment, Drew wanted nothing more than to help the little redhead he had befriended during the season. The junior Drum major nodded to the senior Drum major and Fred shrugged his shoulders, “I’m guessing we’ll deny any knowledge of ever having this conversation?”

  Lucy shrieked and threw her arms around her friend. Bronwyn looked down, but summoned enough courage to flash a shy smile in Drew’s direction.

  Throughout practice, the plans spread like wildfire. Sections were making special arrangements for “extra rehearsals” before Friday. During one of the water breaks, Gina and Mandy came over, with matching devious grins on their faces.

  Lucy asked warily, “What do you girls have in mind?”

  Mandy smiled, “Let’s just say, that if I were Wes, I would probably be hoping that I got sick before the game on Friday night.”

  After English on Friday, a nervous Lucy found herself walking out of the classroom at the same time Jewel did. In all her bitterness, Lucy was happy to see that at least someone on the Forrest Hills Homecoming Court deserved to be there.

  You know, she probably has insider information…

  Concerning?

  Maybe you can see how Wes is doing. He must be feeling bad after last Friday’s loss.

  “Hey Jewel, I don’t think I’ve got to tell you, but congratulations on making Court – that’s awesome!”

  “Thanks! Tom told me about the competition – I think congrats are in order for you as well.”

  Lucy tried to control the stormy look that settled in over her features. The weekend that so many people in the band would remember as a complete triumph only held dark memories for her now.

  Jewel, perceptive girl that s
he was, noticed Lucy’s face and asked, “Did I say something wrong?”

  As the girls walked down the hall, Lucy confided in her classmate, “It’s just with Wes and everything that happened that weekend…”

  Jewel opened her mouth and shut it quickly, “Oh Lucy, I just assumed that it was all a lie. You know how guys can get.”

  “That’s the thing – it is a lie. I’m just not sure why Wes would do something like that.” Lucy was beyond embarrassed to find that tears were rising in her eyes.

  Jewel patted her arm gently, “Well, believe me; I definitely don’t think what he did was cool, but if it’s any consolation, I’ve heard that Coach is thinking of replacing him as the starting kicker.”

  While a small part of the bass drummer was instantly glad for Wes’s loss, another part of her wondered how he would take the news…or what the cause was of his recent terrible playing. More than anything, she had to know that after tonight, it would all be done. She half grinned and responded, “You know, Jewel, for a cheerleader, you’re not so bad.”

  Jewel smiled back, “I’d like to consider myself an adopted band geek.”

  Lucy grinned in anticipation as she drove to the school on Friday evening. Her plans were set and now she hoped that the night's events for Wes would teach the jocks not to mess with the band kids ever again. A small part of her felt guilty for what she was about to unleash, but it was only a very small part.

  Traditionally, the Homecoming game performance was a chance for everyone in the band to kick back and enjoy being on the field. There was no drill and the arrangement was usually ridiculously easy. In a show of solidarity (and as part of her plan for the evening), Lucy had decided to forgo her “new” uniform and revert to the traditional polyester ensemble that everyone else in the marching band wore. Tom was still wearing his modified uniform on the off chance that Jewel’s father somehow went missing in the next hour and he was called to step up as his girlfriend’s official escort. The quint player was ecstatic that his girlfriend was a member of the Homecoming Court and most everyone in the band was excited for him.

  As Lucy walked into the percussion room, there was a hum of energy circulating in the adjacent band room. Everyone was looking at everyone else, wondering if they were going to actually go through with the mystery performance. There would be no time to practice, no second chances – just one shot to get everyone the school’s attention and retribution for the horrible rumors.

  Lucy was a mess during the first half of the game. She nodded at Mark halfway through the first quarter, “There’s just one last thing I have to do. Take care of the basses while I’m gone?”

  The brunette didn’t wait for a response – she said a silent prayer and climbed her way up to the announcer’s booth, embarking on the most difficult and risky part of the entire plan.

  No going back now…

  Taking a deep breath, she peeked in the door. A number of media people looked at her strangely. She dug in her pockets and pulled out her “press pass” from her broadcasting class and flashing it to the group announced, “I’m meeting some people from my class up here. We’re doing a package on Homecoming and wanted to get some B-roll from this vantage point.”

  Lucy used such an authoritative voice that no one gave her much notice. Her green eyes glanced wildly around the room until she saw the folder she had come for – it was labeled “Homecoming Announcements.”

  In case anyone was paying attention, she murmured, “Research,” then opened the folder and looked quickly around the room. She made a quick switch of papers, then looked at her watch, and walked out of the room with her heart beating much faster than when she went in.

  What are you even worried about? How are they going to find out it was you? ‘She was the one in the band uniform?’ That describes A LOT of people at the stadium tonight.

  Lucy tried to rationalize her actions and how she was definitely NOT going to get caught as she made her way back to the band section.

  Ten minutes later, the buzzer finally sounded and the first half of the game was over. Instead of joining his teammates to go back to the locker room, the coordinators of the Homecoming half time show grabbed Wes and stuck an ugly corsage on his uniform. After last week’s abysmal performance and unsure what his commitments for being nominated for the Court involved, the British transfer student had strongly encouraged his parents to stay away from the game, promising he would show them pictures later.

  One of the coordinators asked worriedly, “Who are you escorting down the field tonight?”

  Wes began to say ‘not bloody anyone,’ when a voice from behind him answered sweetly, “Me.”

  Wes turned around and saw Tiffany, no longer in her cheerleader uniform, but instead a tightly cut short pink suit. She walked up and clasped his arm tightly. Wes sighed. He was long past the point for caring about anything related to Homecoming. He had no intention of going to the formal dance tomorrow night and was already looking forward to when the season would be over and he could once again concentrate on real football.

  “Fine.”

  The actual moment was closing in. Lucy watched as the marching band walked out on the field in their traditional “Homecoming” block. The Guard made two pretty lines down the center of the field on either sides of the fifty-yard line so that they could do the twirly flag thing as the Court walked by. The first nominee walked out and the announcer started.

  He has no idea what’s coming…

  Lucy had watched the oblivious Wes play the first half and still felt a little sorry for what she was about to do to him.

  Why should you feel bad? Your reputation is in the crapper and he helped put it there.

  Lucy had spent the week fighting off lewd proposals from the jocks of the school. It was one thing when her section harassed her (somehow that behavior came under the category of “fun and games”), but it was another thing entirely when JV football players were coming up to her asking if she wanted to have some “fun.” She had resisted the urge to slap more than a few guys in the face and had come close to kneeing one particular jerk in the crotch. Although her prank wouldn’t stop the insults and cheesy pick up lines, she thought that it would make her feel marginally better. From her place in the set, Lucy, the rest of the basses and the quints were split up from the cymbals and snares. Molly had sweet talked one of the cymbal players into letting her hold the ride cymbal for Billy so that they would get to be on the field together. Lucy was glad for her friend’s presence on the field. Finally, and fortuitous for Lucy and her plans, there was Wes – with Tiffany on his arm. Any last traces of feeling guilty evaporated when Lucy saw the two of them together.

  But he doesn’t look happy…

  It was true. Wes had a vaguely bored and uncomfortable expression on his face. Tiffany, on the other hand, was doing her best impersonation of a Miss Teen USA finalist. Her perfect white teeth were glowing and she waving to the stands. Lucy rolled her eyes.

  Over the entire stadium, the announcer’s voice boomed, “Here’s Wesley Mallinson, a senior and a recent transfer from Great Britain. He’s been a wonderful addition to our very own Forrest Hills football team. He’s an Honors student and sources tell me that he wears the smallest cup on the team!”

  The words “smallest cup on the team” seemed to resonate in the cool October evening. When they finished echoing, everyone in the entire stadium began laughing.

  On the drum major stand, Fred brought his hands down and the band began playing a mostly recognizable version of Beck’s “Loser.”

  In the middle of the field, Wes turned around and silently walked towards the locker room.

  At the same time, the Guard simply dropped their flags, turned around, and did not do the twirly thing as a now enraged Tiffany made her way, now alone and totally confused, down the fifty-yard line.

  The announcer, who was trying to somehow recover from his obvious gaffe and simultaneously give Tiffany’s bio, said in a flustered voice, “Sorry, folks, it a
ppears as though we’re having some technical difficulties this evening.” The many students in the stands who were already singing along with the band drowned out his voice.

  Gina, who had been doing a basic twirling routine up until this point, began busting out some amazing and high flying skills with her batons, one of which came down dangerously close to the cheerleader. Gina smiled sweetly and said, “Oops.”

  Fred brought down his hands ending the song and concluding the Forrest Hills marching band's memorable half time performance. On the field, loud enough to reach across the yards, Billy barked, “Jeffy's Cadence!”

  With a few clicks and duts, the marching band was quickly walked off the field with cheers and clapping from the audience. With a lopsided score in favor of the home team, no one really had any interest in the game. The audience was already buzzing about what had happened on the field. It was sure to be the talk of the school on Monday morning. As the band climbed into their section of the stands, Mr. Izzo did not have a pleasant expression on his face. Lucy knew it was only a matter of time until he actually exploded.

  The third and fourth quarters were subdued as people tried to judge what sort of disciplinary actions might be taken. Trying to hide her guilty expression, Lucy focused her attention on the field and was intrigued when Wes did not return to the game.

  When the marching band returned to the school that night, there was literally steam coming out of Mr. Izzo’s ears. He called everyone to attention and then began pacing through the band room, yelling, “Never! I mean NEVER in my ten years of teaching and instructing at this school have I seen anything like what happened on the field tonight. Two weeks ago, you were some of the best performers and musicians I have ever seen and now?! Does anyone want to volunteer who put this little ‘performance’ together tonight?”