“Not forever. Maybe high school marching band, but tons of colleges have marching bands too. And they’ll need incredibly talented color guard specialists and percussion players just like you and me. Next year could be just like this…except no parents.”
I warm at the casual way he talks about us being together next year at college. I hope that happens. And I’m not completely done with high school guard either. I got the idea last night to try bringing back winter guard, which could be even more fun than color guard. Winter guards perform a routine to prerecorded music and compete by themselves indoors, rather than with the larger band. We’d have the freedom to choose our own show theme, flags, everything. Back at band camp I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but we have enough dedicated people now that I think we should try. Of course, we’ll also need Sire and Faith to buy into the idea, and our parents, but I’m feeling optimistic.
Max and I are forced to separate after that so we can warm up with our sections.
“You look so happy,” Callie says. “I was kinda worried you’d be mad about yesterday.”
“Mad? Yesterday was the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Li nods smugly. “See, I told you,” she says to the others. “I could tell from our dinner that you weren’t over him.”
“I still can’t believe you all voluntarily chose to do morecolor guard rehearsals,” I say. “Andhung out with percussion?”
“They’re not that bad once you get them away from Brody,” Deja says.
“So…are we going to count that as their performance for our bet, then?” I ask. I’m fine with that, but it needs to be a group decision.
The others exchange glances.
“We could,” Addison says. “They definitely put a lot of time into it.”
“But we never forced Brody to perform,” Callie argues.
“True. Although he looks miserable enough to make me satisfied,” Madisyn says and nods subtly to the left.
Brody and Kyle are huddled together, muttering and throwing angry looks at the rest of the percussion, who are chatting together a few yards away. It looks like Brody’s popularity has finally taken a nosedive. Max had mentioned last night how annoyed the others were that Brody wouldn’t learn the guard routine with them. He always was a sore loser.
“There’s one other thing to consider,” I say. “If we force Brody to go through with the stakes, we’ll have to spend more time with him.”
The others laugh and throw their hands up in the air like they’re surrendering.
“Very good point. I don’t want any more guard memories tainted by him,” Rosa says. “Especially now that our season is over.”
“Almost over,” I correct. “We have this last performance to nail. And I have another idea for spring that I want to runpast—”
But I’m interrupted by Sire calling the entire band to come together. It’s almost time for our performance.
We’re the quietest we’ve ever been as we wait to march onto the field. I’ve never known nerves like the ones I’m feeling right now. I can’t talk and I can barely move. Everything comes down to these next few minutes. No more rehearsals or time to prepare.
We’re given the signal to come onto the field. I head to my first mark and place my lightning bolt flag on the ground. An announcer booms, “Glen Vale Marching Knights, you may begin your preplacement and/or warm-up.”
This short reprieve gives me enough time to take a calming breath, nod reassuringly to Li, and glance up at the stands. Even from this distance, I can see Mom, Dad, and my extended family. I know Max’s mom is with them as well. They’re standing in their matching shirts, waving pom-poms and signs. The people seated around them are probably annoyed, but I’m grateful. The sight of them gives me courage. We’ve worked long and hard for this, and we’re coming for that Superior rating.
As soon as we hit our first pose, I let the choreography and training take over, just like Mom told me to. Adrenaline keeps me smiling and moving and it feels like we’re performing at warp speed. It’s almost like an out-of-body experience, and soon we’re off the field again. There are hugs and tears, excitement for things that went well and lamenting over any mistakes.
I care about the ratings, there’s no denying that, but whatever the rating is, it won’t take away from how much I love all these people.
Because we’re the last to perform in our section, the judges’ ratings will be ready soon. Nova finds me as we wait.
“Did you and Max have fun last night?” she asks with a knowing smile.
I beam at her. “We had thebesttime. Thank you again for what you did. I wasn’t sure if you really approved of us together.”
“I approve of anyone who can make you smile like you are right now. He definitely needed to redeem himself to me, but it’s obvious how he feels about you. He was a bigger perfectionist during those secret rehearsals than Sire ever was.”
I laugh, imagining it.
The announcer begins to read off the ratings for the earlier bands. Nova and I join Felix, Li, and Max, who are sitting a few rows above us. We link arms to form a human chain of support and anxiety.
