Gina, who could easily speak the fastest, quickly filled Lucy in, “So, the bell rings for first period and suddenly there’s like this total line outside Izzo’s office. The late bell rings and all of us in line don’t take our seats. We all keep waiting and it’s seriously like almost everyone in the class. The only people who aren’t in line all want to be Drum major next year, so whatever, and he’s all ‘Can I help you?’ so Mandy says, well, Mandy, tell him what you said.”
Mandy immediately chimed in, so fast that Lucy got the feeling this story had been told a few times during the day already, “So, I tell him ‘You wanted to know who was behind the prank at Homecoming. All of us want to tell you who it is.’”
Gina picked the tale back up, “Only he doesn’t get it that it’s us, which is kind of cute, so the first person in line is Fred.”
Lucy’s eyes went soft. Mandy smiled, “And we were second and third…so, we all go in one at a time and tell him the same thing.”
“What did he do?”
Gina said, “Well, it took up pretty much all of class, I mean, like literally there was still a line of people when the bell rang.”
“And what about second and fourth period?”
Mandy continued, “From what I heard it was a pretty big success.”
“But what do you think he’ll do?”
Lucy chewed nervously on her thumbnail, Gina and Mandy looked at each other, before Gina said, “I don’t know, but I mean we’re doing exactly what he asked for, right?”
Mandy put her arm around Lucy, “He’ll have to let you guys go to Indoor.”
Lucy’s heart thundered in her chest as she walked into 5th period that day. She knew it was her turn to go and talk to her band director. Usually, that was such an easy thing to do, but today it was completely different. Lucy felt for sure that she was going to sound different than everyone else and Mr. Izzo was going to be able to tell that she was actually, unlike everyone else who had been in his office today, telling the truth.
The bell rang, and although it was very important that the Line practice, they decided that it was more important if they actually made it to competition in the first place. Billy took the first spot by Mr. Izzo’s office. The band director seemed to know the drill by now.
One by one the Line went in, starting by order of rank. Lucy was fourth in line behind Billy, Tom, and Molly. Before she walked in, the bass drummer wiped sweaty palms on her jeans and took a deep breath.
He doesn’t know…
“Well, Lucy, I must say that I’m surprised to see you in here.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Izzo, I was the one who convinced everyone to participate in the prank. I apologize for my actions. Please do not let the drumline or any other members of this band suffer for my behavior,” Lucy managed to say all in one breath.
Mr. Izzo sat back in his chair. Quiet for a moment, the band director said, “You know, Lucy, I think you should really reconsider whatever your future plans are. You really had me convinced there. Maybe you should talk to the drama department when the season is over.”
I wasn’t acting…
Instead, she answered with a quavering voice, “Yeah, maybe.”
Mr. Izzo sighed deeply, “Well, you better send in the next candidate.”
There it was. She had went in and told the truth and was being sent on her way.
Don’t think for one second that this is over. Nothing is certain until you step on the court for competition.
At the beginning of Tuesday’s practice, Mr. Izzo had the entire band gather in a half arc to warm up. It was strange because it was rare the each section would be together to warm up like this after competition. Instead of the drum majors conducting, the band director himself led the group. He brought down his hands, but no one broke attention. They stood and looked straight ahead. The band director walked through the group.
Mr. Izzo began speaking, “I have been with this program for fifteen years. I have seen many of your older brothers and sisters come through the school and I know that I will see your younger siblings as well. I have met and worked with your parents. I have seen and will see each of you grow up in wonderful young men and women. I would like to think that I had something to do with the person you will be in the real world. So, in light of recent events and admissions, I offer a solution. I cannot and will not ignore what happened at the Homecoming game, nor can I ignore those of you who stepped forward and admitted to being a part of the prank. However, the overwhelming truth is there. You are working as a group and supporting a section. All of you who have come forward will serve a Saturday school detention to help clean the stadium. Finally,” he paused dramatically, “the drumline will be allowed to play on Saturday. I encourage you all to attend and support the section. On Thursday, I hope they will give us a demonstration of the show.”
Cheers went up through the band. They knew they had done wrong and the “punishment” was kind of perfect – it definitely fit the crime.
As Thursday’s practice came to an end, the Line was let go early to go and change. In the percussion room amidst the cases and music, Molly, Lucy and Bronwyn changed into their Kelly green flapper dresses, which had been purchased on Homecoming evening. Like a page out of Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, the same dress weirdly worked for each of the girls. As they all changed from Chuck Taylors to Steve Madden heels, Bronwyn said simply, “I’m glad we get to compete.”
The happy emotion in the redhead’s voice made all the stress of the past week worth it. Lucy and Molly looked at the younger girl, nodding.
Lucy peeked her head out the door into the band room, she called out, “You guys done changing in there yet?”
“Why don’t you come see for yourself, Luce?”
“No thanks, Mark. I forgot to bring my magnifying glass.”
All was back to normal on the Forrest Hills drumline.
As the Line “took the court for competition” (which was really the back student parking lot), there were plenty of catcalls and whistles from the appreciative marching band. The guys certainly cleaned up nicely. At a local thrift store, the section leaders (minus Molly and Lucy) had managed to find white suits. Many of the guys (with the exception of the cymbal line) sported fedoras and spats.
Bronwyn flushed as she set up the marimba for the opening set. She had noticed more than a few masculine glances her way – one of which came from the very blue eyes of the junior drum major. Without a second thought, she pasted on a smug drumline smile and waited for Billy to start the show.
The drumline captain tapped out counts and the performance started. It was a lot of fun for the gathered marching band to hear the same music from the half time show transposed for a smaller stage and different instruments. As the Line finished the show, everyone was clapping and cheering. As was also tradition, Billy stepped forward to invite the rest of the band to come and cheer the Line on at competition, “I want to let you all know that I couldn’t, we wouldn’t, be going if it wasn’t for your help. If you’ve never been to an Indoor drumline competition before, I think you’d really enjoy yourselves. Look for us at Finals in the evening or come out and support the individual competitors in the morning. On behalf of your entire Forrest Hills drumline, thank you!”
From the football practice field, Wes saw the marching band gathered around and cheering. He watched as they walked away – keeping his eyes peeled for the second bass drummer.
Was that…?
Wes knew he would probably recognize the familiar brown ponytail for the rest of his life.
Why is she dressed like that?
From Wes’s vantage point he could see Lucy in what appeared to be vintage clothing
Very short vintage clothing.
Sean came up beside him and looked where Wes was watching, “I thought you and the band dork weren’t together.”
“We’re not, no thanks to you.”
“Hey, don’t put this on me.”
“Whatever.”
Sean turned away, “Is that why you’ve been sucking recently?”
Wes looked at his teammate and asked gruffly, “What do you mean?”
The British footballer knew that his game had been consistently off since he and Lucy had stopped whatever they had almost started. He was missing field goals that he usually would have no trouble making. It really shouldn’t have been an issue, except the football team was coming up on playoffs, and stupid missed kicks were really going to start making a difference.
Sean shrugged, “When you first came to the team, you were like this awesome guy who never missed. Now, you miss more than you make. I heard Coach is thinking of starting Bennett this week instead of you.”
Wes felt like he had been kicked in the stomach. If it wasn’t enough that Lucy wouldn’t talk to him, let alone look at him, and Tiffany was constantly throwing herself at him, the one thing he had left in his life, American football, might be taken away from him.
To Sean, he responded, “That sucks, but it’s his call.”
“But you have the skills.”
Thinking of the past couple of months, Wes said walking away, “Maybe. Maybe not. I’m not sure if I ever had them to begin with.”
* * *
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: The Last Hurrah
With the pressure of whether or not they were going to compete lifted from the collective shoulders of the Line, the home game on Friday night was a nice distraction before the only Indoor competition of the year. In the world outside the Drumline, the Forrest Hills football game that week was more intense than usual. So far in the season, the Fighting Flyers had only one loss. Logically, the more the football team won the more chance the marching band had to stay together and keep playing – even if it meant suiting up in freezing temperatures – it still was one last time to run through the show.
During her long drum rolls while playing the Star Spangled Banner, Lucy looked over and saw that Wes was not warming up with the rest of the team; instead he was on the sideline.
Why am I even looking over there?
Lucy snapped her head back to attention and stared up at Fred and Drew, but still her green eyes were drawn to the tall football player who was not on the field.
Does this have to do with the whole Homecoming fiasco?
Who are you kidding? Wes’s ability to kick a ball has nothing to do with you or your pranks whatsoever.
He looks so sad over there…
Well, I know you’ve noticed that he’s not been playing well. I’m sure the Coach had every right to pull him from starting.
It had been awhile since Lucy had felt anything remotely like remorse for her former crush, but seeing him in warm up pants and a jersey watching the field was just plain sad.
Put it out of your head until after tomorrow.
Fair enough.
By the end of the evening, the football team barely managed to squeak out a win – and an invitation to the State playoffs. Lucy and her friends were excited that their senior year looked like it could go the distance.
Less than twelve hours later, the mid-November morning dawned cool and clear. When Lucy drove up with Bronwyn, they both let out sighs of relief – the bus was already there waiting for them. Spontaneous singing of the show broke out as the drummers moved their equipment from the percussion room to the truck.
Before they boarded the bus, Henry looked over the group. He stated simply, “Let’s do this thing.”
On the ride over, as Lucy sat next to Tom, her mind started wandering and she thought about past competitions. Riding back tonight was going to be difficult and she forced herself to stop thinking about the fact that this was her last bus ride with the Line — the last time she would seriously pick up her bass drum – the last… Instead of getting all weepy, Lucy distracted herself by talking with her favorite seatmate, “I feel like I haven’t got to talk to you since Homecoming.”
Tom smiled, “Yeah, well…”
“Things going that awesome with Jewel?”
“You could say that.”
“I’m glad.”
“Anything going on with you and Wes?”
Lucy scoffed, “What would I want to do with him? He totally trashed my reputation!”
“Did he?”
Lucy let out a loud “hmph.”
Tom laughed and said, “I’m just saying, Luce, that one weekend I’ve never seen you so happy.”
Lucy made excuses for herself, “Come on. We were second for Sweepstakes? Won the High Percussion caption? Can’t a girl be happy because her band won?”
Tom rolled his eyes and put his hands behind his head, “Yeah, sure, that was the reason.”
“Anyway, even if I did want something with him,” Lucy looked out the window, “It’s too late now.”
Less than an hour later, as always, the individual performers went first. Lucy looked over at Bronwyn during the snare drumming portion of the competition. The redhead’s eyes were glazed over and locked in on the hands and sticking of each competitor.
Lucy leaned over and whispered, “You could do that.”
Bronwyn didn’t say anything; she simply nodded. Lucy smiled at the look of determination in the younger girl’s eyes.
Two hours and a change of clothing later, it was time for one of the last concentrated warm ups Lucy would ever take part in. Over the past four years, she had moved from behind the keyboards to the court and was proud to be a member of the Battery. She had started as an oboe player who was going to try drumming for a season and had morphed into a bass Lieutenant who couldn’t imagine her life without percussion. After a slow and steady warm up, Henry nodded at each section to break.
The basses gathered. Lucy looked at her section, “Alright guys, it’s like Henry said, ‘let’s do this thing.’ I want to extend the best bass trophy win to two years.”
They all nodded.
Using the click plates on her rim, Lucy tapped out counts to start the show, “From the top – let’s run it one last time!”
As the Forrest Hills HS drumline stepped on the modified basketball court for Preliminary competition, Lucy felt chills go up her arms. The seventeen-year-old senior took a mental snapshot of opening set. In a blink, the show was over. The drummers walked off the court, with appropriate cocky statures. Their show had rocked. After Henry flashed them a big thumbs up, they were on their own for the next half hour until Prelim and Individual scores were announced. Lucy and Molly talked Bronwyn into wearing her flapper dress for the rest of the day.
Molly smiled, “Believe me, wearing a dress, especially this dress at a drumline competition is definitely a good thing.”
Bronwyn tilted her head, “Why exactly?”
Lucy stepped forward and said, “Watch and learn.”
Bass Lieutenant Lucy Karate took a deep breath and casually walked past a group of drummers from a smaller school. Bronwyn and Molly had to hold in laughter as the guys blatantly checked out their friend.
Molly said between giggles, “Wait for it…”
The whispers made their way down the hall.
“She’s the bass drummer for Forrest Hills…”
“Did you hear them at Prelims? They were awesome! I couldn’t believe what they were playing.”
“I would give anything to be one of the dudes on that Line…”
Bronwyn looked wide-eyed at Molly, “So, they respect you and your drumming?”
Lucy had come back around the hall, “They certainly do. Plus, for us, it’s like this whole day of cute guys,” she added, “and who knows who might show up from our school.”
Bronwyn flushed and was suddenly made even more nervous that Drew might decide to come to the competition. She told the two older girls, “I’ll be right back.”
Lucy and Molly watched the freshman walk down the hall.
Molly smiled as the same guys checked out the oblivious Bronwyn when she walked by them. She asked, “Do you think we did okay with her?”
Lucy considered a moment, “We
’ve taught her all we can, from here, it’s all up to Bronwyn.”
Molly linked arms with Lucy and said, “She’ll make us proud.”
Lucy looked in the direction Bronwyn had walked, “I was thinking the exact same thing.”
Prelims scores revealed what the crowd already seemed to know, Forrest Hills High School had the best show. It had all the elements to lead up to a winning performance – precise and snappy drill, songs the crowd could recognize and get into, killer licks, and, a reputation of outstanding drumming. As the time for Finals approached, a crowd started trickling into the gymnasium. A predominantly Forrest Hills crowd. Friends from all different sections were there, including both drum majors, plus girlfriends, parents, and siblings. As the Line stood as a group to walk out for their last warm up, Lucy even thought she glimpsed Mr. Izzo.
Like a good Indoor warm up, this one was well attended by those Lines who were not going to Finals. Some stared in awe, others stared bitterly, some had a look of respect, but the Forrest Hills percussionists weren’t aware of those looking on. They were concentrating on Henry and, for the seniors at least, the last warm up that counted. The Forrest Hills Instructor looked around and saw the concentrated stares of the Line glaring back at him.
A Fine Line Page 16