Keeping in Line (2 page)

More later,

B

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CHAPTER ONE: Summertime and the Livin’s…

From beneath her stylish tan straw fedora (a congratulations-you-made-the-snare-line gift from one Lucy Karate who wanted to protect her friend’s fair skin), Bronwyn Flueger lifted her cat eye tortoiseshell frames and wiped the sweat from her face. It was nearing the end of July and she was outside, drumming. Her Captain, J.D. Strauss, was either too macho or too insane to go inside or consider moving his section into the shade, so the entire snare line was sweating through their last chop busting session of the summer. Were any other members of the band practicing this early in the season? The youngest snare drummer seriously doubted it. At least the guys were lucky – they could take off their shirts. Bronwyn, however, was not yet at the comfort level where she was going to take off her shirt in front of a bunch of upperclassmen. Her own tan lines were tank top specific and she was quite comfortable with that fact.

Zoning out of the endless rudiment exercise, the sophomore focused on happier thoughts. As much as she loved drumming, pre-band camp was the following week and she couldn’t wait. Bronwyn would be glad to see anyone besides another snare drummer. While she had earned the basic respect of the guys she had spent long hours under the sun with, she still didn’t hang out with them socially. Although Bronwyn wouldn’t admit it to the jealous members of her class who wanted a place in the section, J.D. had kind of beaten the fun out of being a snare drummer.

Bronwyn hadn’t known what exactly to expect for her summer practices, but remembering her season last year, she certainly expected more inside jokes. More laughing. More inappropriateness. More…everything. Instead, it had been drumming, plain and simple. No friendships, no laughing, no inclusion of any kind. There were moments of fun now and then, but Bronwyn was worried about what would happen when they joined the rest of the drumline. She needed to be a part of something, needed the acceptance of the upperclassman to help her face her tormentors in the sophomore class.

She knew the unspoken rule – it was fine to be a girl…as long as you didn’t take someone else’s slot on the Line. There was one guy in particular who Bronwyn wasn’t looking forward to seeing again. Tony Clarke. Tony was completely bitter Bronwyn had made the snare line and had no problem sharing his feelings with any one who would listen. She knew the underlying reason he was so upset – the earlier you are picked to be on the snare line, the better shot you have of being Captain in your senior year. It was no secret that Tony wanted to be Captain, and had considered it his birthright since they had all picked up sticks in middle school. He was irritating, but also smart enough to limit his bullying to when the section leaders weren’t around.

Forcing herself to think about more positive subjects, Bronwyn looked around at the rest of the snares while they finished the exercise. There was tall Lance, a senior who had marched snare last season and two years on bass before that. Since she had had her own issues to worry about, Bronwyn hadn’t got caught up in the politics of the fierce battle for the drumline Captain title. Lance, a veteran with three years on the Line was livid that J.D., who had transferred to Forrest Hills only last season, was named Captain instead of him. The seniors had worked out some of their differences over the summer, but Bronwyn knew there was still some unresolved tension between them. Lance was always the first to comment if J.D. did something wrong, the first to come up with an alternative way to do something, and the first to point out if any of the other snares weren’t doing their best. Almost everyone on the Line thought J.D. would do a good job, except for Lance’s loyal friends, Mark (now on quints) and Jared (the bass Lieutenant) who were also unhappy with the selection of J.D. as Captain. Bronwyn decided it was probably in her best interest to stay under the radar, which had been easy so far, as she didn’t march next to either Lance or J.D.

With six snares in total, Lance and J.D. were in the middle with Adam and Bronwyn on one end (dubbing themselves the West Side) and Kevin and Scott on the other end (representing the East Side). Adam was the sanest person on the snare line to march next to, and she felt grateful for her placement.

Holding his stick up, J.D. signaled for the end of the exercise. The snares smartly tucked their sticks away. For whatever reason, J.D. was in a bad mood, which meant they had to be at attention and on top of their game or risk doing countless push-ups. In the absence of Henry, who was touring during the summer as a caption head with DCI, J.D. was the law. As Bronwyn gritted her teeth, aching to relax her shoulders, she maintained her fixed stance. They had been fortunate their Captain had been in a good mood at the start of practice and allowed them to practice on their stands, rather than use their carriers. As a particularly annoying bead of sweat dripped down her back, she struggled to maintain her composure. They couldn’t break attention until J.D. released them, which was at least one thing Lance and J.D. agreed on.

J.D. finally said, “Okay, we’re done for today. I’m going on vacation tomorrow, so the next time I see all of you will be at band camp.”

Adam made a motion to leave.

“Did I tell you to break attention?”

Adam frowned, “No.”

“Twenty ought to do it.”

Adam balanced his wrapped sticks on his snare drum and began doing push-ups. Bronwyn had to control herself from staring at his defined back and shoulder muscles. J.D. continued talking, “When we get to band camp I expect the concentration we had at these practices will remain. We are the most talented section in the drumline and have to set an example for the rest of the Battery. You’re free to go.”

Bronwyn secretly suspected a lot of J.D.’s insane militaristic tendencies were due to his past. Before joining the Forrest Hills drumline (and the high school that went with it), he had attended military school and marched a summer with Drum Corps International (among band geeks, more commonly known as DCI). He had taken off from marching DCI this summer to concentrate on being Captain and applying for college. Still, it was J.D.’s way or the highway and Bronwyn was too young and inexperienced on the Battery to question anyone’s leadership styles.

Pre-band camp finally arrived. Bronwyn said goodbye to her dad as they pulled into the Forrest Hills high school’s familiar parking lot. She couldn’t wait for the day she was able to drive herself to school. Although she knew Ben, a junior in the tenor section, lived close to her house, Bronwyn hadn’t quite built up the confidence to ask him for a ride just yet.

“Have a good practice, honey!”

“I’ll call you when I need to be picked up,” Bronwyn answered as she slung her snare over one shoulder and walked towards the school. Usually not overly concerned with her appearance, the redhead had put a lot of consideration into what she was wearing today. She wanted to define herself and move away from the shy, naïve persona she had been known for during her ninth grade year. Over the summer, she had searched thrift stores until she found the perfect T-shirt (emblazoned with “Arizona is for Lovers” across a faded yellow background) and paired it with olive colored corduroy shorts to wear for her first official practice. She had observed how the other snares dressed and wanted to look, at least on the surface, like she belonged. Interestingly enough, her Captain was the one who looked like he didn’t belong. J.D. was preppy with a capital P and Bronwyn wasn’t about to be caught dead in pressed khaki shorts and a polo shirt with the collar flipped up. The redhead knew everyone on the Battery wore Oakley (or Oakley inspired) sunglasses, but decided to put her own spin on things and stuck with her retro shades. The final and most obvious difference from her shyer ninth grade self, was her new walk. Maybe it was the months of wearing the drum, but somehow, she had finally developed a walk that had attitude.

As she approached the school, she caught the whispers that trailed in her wake.

“Who is she?”

“Is that a snare she’s carrying?”

“Who let her carry their drum?”

Bronwyn was amazed at how quickly everyone had forgotten her Battery designation. She turned a corner to find Tony and the rest of the sophomore drummers. She had almost passed the group when her arch nemesis snidely called out, “I still think they mixed up the results of our auditions, Flueger.”

The redhead looked straight ahead. She and Stewie (late one night over the summer she had decided that her drum had a name, and that name was Stewie) kept walking, choosing not to acknowledge the insult.

Angered by her lack of response, Tony called after her, “You might as well just put down the drum now before Henry or J.D. has to publicly embarrass you by removing you from the Line.”

Bronwyn was about to respond when Drew unexpectedly came to her rescue. As a member of the Pit, Bronwyn had a bit of an unorthodox relationship with the drum major from the previous season. As much as her daydreams said otherwise, she would classify them as ‘friendly,’ but not ‘friends.’

Drew replied on her behalf, “From what I hear, Bronwyn is kicking ass and taking names.”

While blushing slightly, Bronwyn stuck out her tongue from behind Drew and followed him into the band room. She watched the blonde senior approach some of the Brass players and desperately wished she had said ‘thank you’, or something flirty, instead of doing or saying absolutely nothing. Still grumbling to herself, she left Stewie in the percussion room and sat down next to her best friends: Meredith (a sax player) and Megan (a flautist) and high-fived the rest of her band friends, Tyler (a Sousaphone) and Pete (a trumpet).

Bronwyn asked, “What did I miss?”

Meredith answered, “We’re discussing which bus we’re going to sign up for this season.”

“I think I have to sign up for the drumline bus,” Bronwyn replied glumly, not wanting to admit how nervous she was to have to ride the percussion bus. The sophomore snare remembered the previous season when the Line was headed to one of the Indoor competitions. Lucy was sitting with Tom and Bronwyn was sitting by herself in the front of the bus. It seemed everyone else had easily found a seat mate, leaving the redhead (again) on her own.

Would this season be any different?

It was a silly question, but she wasn’t sure where she would fit in. She didn’t have a ‘Tom’ in her life like Lucy did, and she knew a lot the members of the Line would have their girlfriends on the bus anyway. Bronwyn looked across the room at Drew and wondered what bus he was going to be on.

Megan said, “Bummer.”

Bronwyn agreed, “I know. J.D. is running a really tight ship this year and I don’t want to risk anything, you know?”

At the name J.D., both Meredith and Megan’s eyes glazed over. Bronwyn rolled her eyes, “You guys, I keep telling you – he’s not that cool.”

Meredith smiled broadly and replied, “Tell me the part again how you practiced with the guys and they took their shirts off…”

Sensing the topic of conversation was heading in a direction she didn’t want to elaborate on, Bronwyn stood up, intent on heading to warm ups. Rolling her eyes in frustration, she commented, “Ab City. I’m sure you’ll all get a glimpse at band camp. I swear, any excuse they have – those shirts come off. If you find carrier tans sexy, then you’re in luck. See you girls later!”

Bronwyn walked over to the percussion room where she saw Beth and Valerie standing awkwardly. The redhead remembered a year ago almost exactly to the day, when she had shown up to her first band practice. Lucy had immediately and without question taken the freshman under her wing. Bronwyn had vowed to be a cool drumline girl and attempt to do what Lucy had done for her. She forced a happy tone and asked, “Hey gals – how was your summer?”

They both mumbled generic answers.

Taking a deep breath, Bronwyn smiled and brightly said, “Do you have any questions? We drumline girls have to stick together, after all.”

At that moment Tony came in and interrupted their conversation, “Don’t listen to her. Bronwyn doesn’t know the first thing about drumline.” He then learned on one of the tall racks that held the bass drums and added flirtatiously, “If you have any questions, I’d be more than happy to show you around.”

Valerie and Beth were obviously unsure of what to do, but at that moment J.D. joined everyone in the percussion room and announced, “Enough bullshitting. Everyone get their drums and get outside.”

Bronwyn glared at Tony, flashed a smile at the young Pit members, grabbed a stand for her music and walked outside silently, thinking about her fellow sophomores. For whatever reason, her particular grade had produced a bumper crop of drummers who had all decided to keep playing after middle school. Tony was their ringleader and the pair had exchanged insults since their first introduction to one another. Bronwyn had quickly moved into the ‘prodigy’ category and Tony had not been able to get over the fact that a girl was better than he was. Worst of all, he was joined by Steve, his best friend and lackey, who was on the tenor line. Unfortunately, Bronwyn didn’t have anyone like that on her side in the Line. It was a lonely existence, missing out on something everyone else seemed to have. She wasn’t sure if it was because of her former shyness or maybe due to her talent as a drummer, but she had never found a close friendship in the section.