It’s a printed banner that says:
Glen Vale Color Guard Toilet Cleaners
And on either side of the words is a picture of a toilet bowl…with our faces inside the toilet. A picture of each member of the color guard has been photoshopped so it looks as if we’re floating pieces of poop.
Keira screams, as do Madisyn and Addison. My whole body goes rigid, my hands balling up into fists, and I swing around to take in everyone else’s reactions. The whole band has frozen to read the sign. Some are laughing while others glare at percussion.Everyoneis whispering about it, and already I see crowd members pulling out their phones to take pictures.
“We wanted to make you something special to cheer you on for the rest of the season!” Brody calls in our direction.
I step forward. I’m going to knock this kid unconscious with my flag pole. I don’t care how many witnesses are here.
Devin grabs my arm to pull me back at the same time that Mrs.Lewis, Mr.Jenkins, Faith, and Sire push through the band toward Brody and the other percussion members.
“The entire crowd just saw myfacein a toilet!” Rosa cries in horror.
“All our faces!” Yori adds. “You know everyone’s going to post photos.”
Addison drops her face to her hands. “Just when I think I can’t hate them more, they always prove me wrong.”
All the band instructors look thunderous. Sire rips the paper banner from their hands and gives it to Faith, who crumples it into a ball. I’m still shaky and adrenaline is pouring through me, but Sire’s and Faith’s rage is soothing. I’m too far away to hear what’s being said, but it looks like that group will be suspended from the performance tonight.
I shake myself and turn away from the scene. I will not let Brody get to me. And I’m not letting him get to the rest of the guard either.
“Do you think Max knew about that?” Li whispers from my side.
I shake my head. Brody only had a few kids with him, and Max was nowhere to be seen. It’s much more likely that Brody concocted that show all on his own.
“I don’t think so,” I tell her, then call out to the whole group. “Hey, everyone? Huddle up for a second.”
Reluctantly, the others circle around me. A few, like Li, still look shaken. The others look mutinous.
“We already know Brody is a bully and a jerk,” I say fiercely, “which means the only way we let him win is by letting him get in our heads. I don’t want to give him that power. We’ve done a lot of work over the last few weeks, and it’s time we show everyone just what we can do.”
Rosa and Deja nod and Yori claps her hands. “You already know what Oof would do to Brody.”
I point to her. “Then let’s use that to put all our doubters in their place for once. In fact, I’ve been playing with a newchant of our own, and I think tonight is the right time to use it.” I had been planning on pulling out this new color guard chant for our third competition, but right now is the time to light a fire under us. I whisper the words to them, then take a step back.
I call out:“Show up!”
And they respond:“Show out!”
“All in!”
“No doubt!”
I put my hand in the middle and the others join me.“Glen Vale Guard!”
We scream the last words and lift our hands triumphantly in the air.
Our field commander blows her whistle to call the band to attention. Brody and the others may think they know what we’re capable of, but they have no clue.
Everything about tonight’s performance feels different from the moment we step onto the field. We’re performing the last song of our competition show tonight, since this is mostly a crowd who’s never seen it and we always need the practice. I march to my starting position and see that Brody and several other percussion players are indeed standing on the sidelines. I smile serenely and stare into the faces in the crowd with pride.
The performance begins and energy flows through me as the guard transitions through our choreography, moving from our windmill moves into butterflies. It’s a cool night and quiet enough that I can hear our flags ripple in unison. When we hit the drum break, the guard members run from our various places on the field to line up on the fifty-yardline. Right on cue, we begin one of our hardest pieces of choreography—staggered pop tosses starting from the front of the line and rippling back to the last person. But tonight, I don’t need to call out our musical counts or hold my breath in fear. I know we’re hitting the choreography dead-on, and I’m not sure I’ve ever been prouder of anything.
We get a big round of applause from the crowd when we’re finished, which is impressive since it’s an away game…and they just saw our faces inside of toilets. We high-five and Faith comes running over for hugs.
Sire calls us to attention on the sidelines. “Nicely done to those of you on the field tonight. However, I want to say that while we might not be here in an athletic capacity tonight, any unsportsmanlike conduct isabsolutelyunacceptable. We expect much better of you, and if we see anything again like what we saw before the show”—he cuts his eyes to Brody—“individuals will be removed from this band. Understood?” Sire slowly meets our eyes. “All right. You can grab food during third quarter, but be back at the stands by the time fourth quarter starts. I’m not in the mood to go searching for people. And color guard—”
