The Line
Authors: Courtney Brandt
Tags: #marching band courtney brandt, #band nerd drumline, #high school, #band geek, #drum line
A novel
By
Courtney Brandt
Published by Courtney Brandt at Smashwords
Copyright December 2010 Courtney Brandt
* * *
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Smashwords Edition License Notes
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
* * *
Dedicated to…
The Brookwood HS drumline,
Past, present, and future.
Other books in The Line Series:
A Fine Line (available in print and digital release)
Keeping in Line (available in print and digital release)
The Line Up (available in print and digital release)
* * *
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE: THE SEASON BEGINS
CHAPTER SIX: MEETING THE ENEMY
CHAPTER SEVEN: LET THE GAMES BEGIN
CHAPTER TEN: BEST PERCUSSION ENSEMBLE
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: BASES LOADED
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: ANY GIVEN SATURDAY
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: HOMECOMING (PART I)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: THE WAY YOU LOOK TONIGHT
CHAPTER NINETEEN: (RE)PERCUSSIONS
CHAPTER TWENTY: HOMECOMING (PART II)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: STORMY WEATHER
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: LIGHTS OUT!
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: AMERICAN IDIOTS
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: DON’T LOOK BACK IN ANGER
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: SHE’S GOING THE DISTANCE
* * *
PROLOGUE: TEN MINUTES
Sophomore Lucy Karate took a deep breath and concentrated her moss green eyes on the black squiggles in front of her. The sheet music on the page was exactly the same it had been for the past ten months. The difference wasn’t the music; it was the day. This was the day before auditions – her last opportunity to practice before her fate for the next school year was ultimately decided.
Recently turned sixteen Lucy Karate had been a member of the 250 strong Forrest Hills Flyers marching band for the past two seasons. Not as a clarinet player, or a trombonist, or one of the prissy Dance Line girls; Lucy had been a member of the Front Ensemble, the “Pit” in the drumline. She liked learning all the different mallet instruments the section had to offer, but was more than ready to join the Battery. The Battery was made up of instruments who marched on the field – snare, bass, cymbal and tenor drums. Earning a spot on the Battery had been a dream for the past year.
Back in middle school when she joined the band, Lucy had chosen to play the oboe. It was just her luck she has picked the one instrument incapable of marching. Most oboists learned to play the flute or piccolo, but not Lucy. There was some call; some deep pull of the drumline that had made her chose the section. Given she could already read music and mallets weren’t the most difficult instruments to learn, the band directors had placed the young woman into the predominantly male section, hoping she would have a calming influence. Entering high school, Lucy would have never guessed she would become borderline obsessive with all things percussion.
Cymbals…maybe, or possibly bass…
Lucy thought to herself when she started picturing her junior year. She wasn’t going to kid herself about tenors or snare. The Forrest Hills drumline was an unbelievably talented group. They had a number of percussionists make All State Band every year. Lucy knew she would be happy just to get on the field. She wanted her junior year to be worth something. Lots of great things were going to happen during 11th grade – making use of her month old drivers license, becoming an upperclassman, hopefully going to Prom, finally getting a job, her first AP classes, starting to worry about which college she was going to attend…
She forced her concentration back onto the memorized exercise. She knew this particular selection was the one that would make or break her audition. Unlike the rest of the guys on the Line, Lucy preferred to practice by herself. Ever since the previous season had ended, Lucy had taken her practice pad and sticks into the garage and practiced an hour or more every day. She downloaded reams of music from the Internet, listened to cadences, and watched DCI shows almost weekly. She had never been more committed to anything in her entire life. Lucy finally put the music away, realizing it was going to be difficult to get any sleep.
Like a metronome at 140 beats per minute, the next day passed quickly. Uncharacteristically, Lucy didn’t bother trying to concentrate in her classes – choosing instead to going over the audition pieces, trying to visualize herself playing them perfectly. After school, the potential drummers gathered outside the band room. With only five seniors graduating there wasn’t a lot of room for movement on the Line. The Battery, while larger than many high school percussion sections, was made up of six snares, four tenors, five basses, and seven cymbals with another eight or so in the Pit. Lucy nervously went around the corner and began warming up on her practice pad. Far too soon, she heard her name called.
With more confidence than she felt, Lucy walked proudly into the spacious band room with her hands behind her back. She was trying to calm herself, willing her hands to stop shaking. In front of her stood a practice table, and in front of that, the judges. The drumline judiciary committee included: the two band directors, Mr. Izzo and Mr. Beard, Henry the percussion instructor, and one of the local percussion teachers, Mr. DiBonaventura. Lucy looked at the table, noting the stand was far too tall for her 5 feet 4 inches. Henry grinned and stood up on Lucy’s behalf, moving the director’s podium for Lucy to stand on. Taking a step up, it was more than enough, and Lucy now towered over the judges.
Henry said politely, “If you would please play the two prepared pieces. You will then be asked to sight read a short selection.”
Since I’ve probably already blown this, then I guess I have nothing to lose.
Hey now – you did not waste weeks of your life practicing to have an attitude like that!
And you would be?
Just consider me your inner percussionist – make me proud – go out there and kick some ass!
No arguments there. Let’s show ‘em what this oboist can do.
As if in a trance, Lucy played the two prepared pieces. After six months of practicing every day, the rhythms poured neatly out of her hands. Lucy stopped. The judges noted her scores.
Henry continued, “Please turn over the piece in front of you. You will have ninety seconds to review the music.”
The ninety seconds passed in a blur. If there was one thing Lucy needed practice at, it was sight-reading. She had dreaded this part of the audition.
“You may begin.”
She persevered through the piece as best she could, then it was over and Mr. Izzo said, “Thanks for coming in, Lucy. Positions will be posted tomorrow after school.”
Lucy managed to stammer, “Thanks.”
She stumbled out of the room. The whole thing had taken less than ten minutes. It didn’t matter that she had spent weeks of her life practicing in the past year. All that mattered were the past ten minutes. However, reflecting on what had happened, Lucy was not discouraged. Even if only with matched grip, she had solidly played both of the audition pieces. The sophomore tried to convince herself the sight-reading didn’t really matter and it was mainly for the placement of the quints and snares.
Listening to her iPod, Lucy tried her best to concentrate on her history homework as she waited for her mom to pick her up at the front of the school. She had the sound up so loud that she jumped when someone tapped her on the shoulder. Lucy looked next to her and saw the ginger haired cymbal player with mesmerizing hazel eyes, Nevada Petersen, looking over her shoulder. She took off her headphones, willing herself not to blush or say something awkward.
“How’d you do, Luce?” Nevada asked.
“Good, I think. You?” As a member of the Pit, Lucy didn’t get to interact with the cymbalist much last season and was surprised the cute upcoming senior remembered her name.
“Not sure. As much as I want quints, I think they’re going to stick me in charge of the cymbals.”
“Would that be so bad?” Lucy gave him a hopeful smile.
“I guess not.”
Glimpsing a familiar car approaching, Lucy wanted to curse under breath as her Mom pulled up. Sighing, Lucy collected her homework and headed to the car, “Well… I’ll guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”
“I hope you make the Battery, Lucy – we’re definitely going to need something of a female influence next season.”
Lucy hoped her crush was correct, and answered, “Thanks. See you at Warm-up Week.”
Hoping her conversation with Nevada was some sort of good omen for the results tomorrow, she got in the car. Her mom asked, “Who was that?”
“Oh…Nevada?” Lucy tried to downplay her feelings and said, “He’s on the Line.”
