| So it began: marching on a lumpy, wet field under a blazing sun with instructors calling attention every five minutes because of talking. Why did I do it? I didn't really know but I had to keep reminding myself that, 'you put the elective down'. But as they say on WWF, business began to pick up as night fell and we got through more pages of new drill in an hour than we did during the entire first half of practice. Happy but tired, I jogged off the field with my fellow band mates to grab a drink. I chugged and mingled. I considered myself the underclassmen ambassador and enforced my position every practice by trying to calm down the high level of tension that rose every time we met on this field due to some over blown egos. Turning, I began to talk to the drummers. "So see, Killer Instinct was always better than Mortal Kombat," I replied after a heated debate. "No way, man!" Josh, a snare drummer replied. "The classics are always better." "True but the graphics are ten times better on KI than on Mortal," Bass drummer Chris, answered. I nodded and said, "Yeah, and since now it's on N64--" I stopped. 'Who said my name?' I scanned the band practice field and found the source. 'Oh no. She's gonna die.' "Excuse me, boys. I have something to take care of." Hopping the wall, I got into a position where I was directly above the conversation. Who was talking? Well, Will for one but whom he was talking to always made my blood burn. Jessica, French horn player, wanna be trumpet player, and a royal pain in the butt. She had this idea that since she was a Senior, she was right about everything and that underclassmen are just stupid. 'I at least know not to wear about eight pounds of makeup to practice,' I thought smugly as I tuned in. "Jes, what are you talking about?" Will asked with a placid look I knew was one of barely controlled annoyance. "I'm talking about how you let a freshmen control the entire section," the blonde girl scoffed. "I mean, she practically runs things!" Rolling his eyes, the returning senior folded his arms. "I'm in control of my own section. I let Tasha have control because I expect her to become section leader at the end of the year." "You're kidding!?" "He didn't stutter," I replied, hopping down from wall. Sneering, she faced me, throwing a curl of hair behind her. "Who invited you, freshmen?" Jessica asked. "I invited myself, upperclassmen who's acting like a four-year-old," I sneered in return. "If you have a problem with me, you take it up with me, not with Will." "I'm afraid the structure of the band doesn't work that way." "Well, then I'm afraid I'm gonna have to put my Nike in your--" "Hey!" Will replied, trying to stop a fight before it started. "Jes, stop messing with her. Tasha, keep you're feet on the ground. But she's right, if you have a problem, see her before you see me. See if you can work out the problem between yourselves before you involve another person." "I can't believe you're taking her side!" she shrieked. Will shrugged. "She's still right. Age doesn't make up for wisdom." After that, well, things became a blur. Because more words were said. Then she hit Will. Then she slapped me. And that's when all hell broke lose in a flash. |