“Five, six, seven, eight!” Faith calls.
We’re warming up at Twin Valley High School, and Faith is drilling us on a super difficult piece of choreography in our show. Not only does it have two flat tosses, but also a backhand spin series that’s really tricky. I’ve done it so many times now that it’s as easy as walking for me, which means I can rehearse while also letting my eyes wander back toward Max.
He looks so cute with his plumed hat on. I can’t hear what he’s saying to the rest of his section, but I think he’s giving them a pep talk. Unfortunately, this week has been just as hectic as last week, so we haven’t spent much more time together. I’m anxious for today to be over for many reasons, but one of them is that I’ve decided we need to come clean with our sections after today. I won’t say anything to Max now, but—barring another horrible competition like last time—I plan to tell him this evening. I know he was hesitant before, but it’s been two weeks now and I want to spend the rest of our time in marching band together. I’m sick of trying to pretend he doesn’t exist when all I really want to do is run over and give him a good-luck kiss on the cheek.
“Stop, hold up.” Faith waves her hands. “Not everyone was on count. Let’s try that again.”
I glance around, wondering who was off this time. Maybe Yori? She struggles with this part.
“Hazel, are you ready?” Faith says and lifts an eyebrow.
“Of course, I’m always ready.”
Callie snorts. “Then try being on count this time.”
I open my mouth to argue before realizing that Faith is nodding subtly. Oh my god. I squeeze my eyes shut and push everything else from my mind. I can think about Maxaftertoday’s performance, not before.
The rest of warm-ups goes smoothly, but I can feel Faith’s eyes lingering on me. When we take a break, she comes over to me directly.
“Is everything okay? You don’t seem like your usual self.”
“I’m fine. Ready for this afternoon.”
“Good. I need everyone to be on task today.” She nods her head and her blond ponytail flips around her neck.
“Seriously?” I mutter.
I know Faith is my color guard director, but right now all I can see is a girl barely older than me who blew off more rehearsals than she attended. I don’t think she’s in the position to be lecturing me on taking this seriously.
“What?” she asks with a frown.
“Nothing.”
“It seems like you have something you’d like to say.”
I huff out a breath. “Faith, you’ve barely been around. I know you come for our games and competitions, but for the most part it’s just me. And when you do come by, more often than not you’re bribing everyone to love you with treats andunearned compliments. I’m sorry I was off count earlier, but I don’t think I deserve a lecture when I’ve been the one holding this group together.”
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I freeze in shock. I can’t believe I just said that. Yes, I’ve been frustrated, but I meant to stuff those emotions inside me, not spew them all over my color guard director right before the biggest competition to date.
Her face pales and I’m positive she’s about to tell me I’ll be standing on the sidelines rather than performing today. Instead, she slumps.
“You’re right,” she says quietly. “I know I haven’t been there for you like you needed.”
I shake my head. “No, Faith, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. You’ve been great.”
She laughs sarcastically. “I haven’t been great. I thought I could balance it all, but getting to the rehearsals with my job has been way harder than I expected. Even when Sire asked me, I knew it was a bad idea, but I didn’t want to let everyone down. The idea of Glen Vale without a guard…” She shakes her head sadly.
Her words throw me. “What are you talking about?”
“I was Sire’s last resort, and I meanlast.He knew it was a bad fit, but neither of us wanted to take guard away from you all, so I tried to do my best. I’m sorry that you feel like I failed you.”
It takes me another few moments to fully process what she’s saying. We were that close to losing color guard altogether? I try to imagine it, but my heart lurches and I pushthe thoughts away. Instead, I throw my arms around her and pull her into a hug.
“I had no idea, Faith. And you didn’t fail us! We’re here and we’re going to kill it today, I promise.”
She hugs me back. “I know you will. Now go get the rest of your guard as pumped up as you are.”
I jog away, still in shock that there was a very real version of my life where I didn’t get to be in color guard at all this year. I debate telling the others, but I don’t want to distract them right before we’re about to go on. There will be time to do something for Faith later. Now is the time to prove that it was worth keeping color guard around this year.
