Ted laughed and answered, “No, it’s cool. We go to practically identical schools. As long as you’re not in the marching band, it’s okay.”
Lucy swallowed and asked hopefully, “What’s wrong with being in the band? Isn’t that what you guys are all in? Isn’t it all just one big happy family?”
Ken fielded the question, “Not really. Both schools are in competitive marching bands, just like the football teams are. Also, we’re on the drumline, so we’re not technically in the marching band.”
As a percussionist, Lucy understood the difference he was alluding to. Being a drummer was an interesting paradox. You were part of the marching band…you were the very heartbeat of it, but you were also a unit unto yourselves. Plus, you could look cool playing a drum, which wasn’t always possible say, playing the clarinet. People in the school may not know much about the inner workings of the marching band, but they could recognize the drummers separately. Lucy knew all this, but asked, “I guess I don’t follow. What’s the difference?”
Ken looked puzzled. It was very difficult to explain this dilemma to someone who wasn’t on the Line, so he replied, “Never mind.”
Flip spoke up, “Anyway, we just have some problems with the members the Forrest Hills drumline.”
Lucy cocked her head, this was interesting news. She asked innocently, “Really? Who specifically? Wouldn’t it be funny if I had class with them or something?”
Snoopy answered, “It’s that stupid drumline captain, Jerm, he’s such a tool. Plus, what the hell kind of name is Jerm anyway?”
Lucy almost spit out her chocolate milk. It was entirely true, Jerm could be a total tool sometimes and his name was a little ridiculous, but he was also a great drummer and a loyal captain, so she said, “Hmm, I don’t know a Jerm. Maybe he’s a senior.”
Lucy fiddled with her straw wrapper in front of her. She was getting deeper and deeper in trouble. If (when?!) she ever told Sam she was on the Forrest Hills drumline, this conversation was not going to go over well with him. Lucy decided to play her trump card, and said slyly, “So, I always see the drummers at my school tapping on things constantly. Do you guys do that too?”
Jeff smiled and responded, “They are probably doing cadences and rudiments. That’s the great thing about being a drummer – you can practice all the time.”
Lucy looked at the group, a completely innocent expression on her face. Lucy may not be the best when it came to sight reading or playing a difficult snare lick, but she had been serious about practicing her rudiments. She also knew drummers looked for any excuse to show off their skills. She asked harmlessly, “Can you teach me one? It can’t be that difficult.”
Sam shrugged his shoulders and answered, “Why not? Let’s see – let’s start you off with something easy. Jeff, let Lucy borrow your sticks.” Sam got out his own pair and instructed gently, “Let’s try a paradiddle.”
Lucy pretended to struggle with the words, “Para…diddle?”
Sam laughed and said, “Yeah, I know it sounds funny – most of the rudiments do. You just tap out, left right left left, right left right right.”
Sam began tapping out the rhythm very slowly on the table. Lucy looked at him strangely, but, other than his traditional grip, followed perfectly what he was doing. She kept time and rhythm with Sam who slowly increased the tempo. The guys around the table looked astonished at Lucy’s hands. As Sam finished, she stopped and put her sticks down and smiled, commenting, “That wasn’t so difficult. Maybe I should try out for our drumline next year.”
Snoopy was the only one who could talk; he said quietly, “Maybe you should.”
Lucy decided to push the envelope a little further, and asked, “Do you guys have any girls on your Line?”
Massey replied, “We have a few underclasswomen at the moment.”
“Are they any good?”
Jeff answered, “For girls? They’re okay, I guess.”
Perhaps due to her raging hormones, something in Lucy snapped. Guys everywhere, had this thing about girls on their Line. Why couldn’t they just, for once, say, yeah, she was a great drummer? Period. End of story. No need to mention a gender. There was always going to be that tag line – for a girl. This went further than the South Washington drumline; this went to how she knew the guys on her own Line looked at her. As a girl first, a drummer second, and very proud of both facts, Lucy looked at Sam and said, “Excuse me; I have to get something from my car.”
With her personal power song (Tomoyasu Hotei’s Battle Without Honor or Humanity) roaring in her head, Lucy went out to her car, reached in and quickly pulled out her jacket. She had earned this jacket – not as a girl, but as a member of the Forrest Hills drumline. Lucy ran her fingers over the best Front Ensemble patch she had earned her freshman year. She looked at the Best Percussion Ensemble patches that she had been a part of so far. She imagined the pins and bars she would receive this season. Lucy put it on and walked proudly back into the Krispy Kreme.
The guys saw a young woman walk up that literally stopped their conversation. In front of their table stood a 16-year-old girl with a black and green jacket and an unpleasant expression on her face. Lucy spoke loud enough so the entire restaurant could hear her, “My name is Lucy Karate. I play bass drum on the Forrest Hills drumline. I am a drummer, just like the rest of you. My Line will see yours in November – I hope you guys bring your best licks, ‘cause we’re sounding awesome this year.” As an afterthought, she looked at Sam and added, “I’m sorry, I didn’t want it to be like this.”
She walked out, willing Sam to follow her so she could give him a better explanation. Lucy was more than a little crushed when she didn’t hear the senior come out behind her.
Well, you earned this. What did you think he was going to do?
Didn’t the other night mean anything to him?
Maybe when he thought he was just kissing some nice girl from Forrest Hills and not The Girl on their Battery. If you want to feel better you can always head over to Waho and see Nevada…
Sorry, but no. The only thing that will make me feel better is if Sam comes out and I can explain to him what I was thinking.
Lucy turned around slowly, but didn’t see the dark haired senior anywhere. She got in her car and drove on autopilot towards her house. Getting ready for bed, she still felt terrible about Sam and couldn’t erase his hurt expression from her mind. Motivated by the overwhelming amount of guilt she was feeling, Lucy hesitantly typed out an e-mail to Sam. Knowing she at least owed him a call, she promised herself she would try his phone the following day.
To: [email protected]
Sam,
Ha! Ha! You got Punk’d… I wish you could’ve seen the expression on your face. It was hilarious.
To: [email protected]
Sam,
Look dude – there’s no other way to say this but, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you who I was from the very beginning… Even though we’re kind of a modern day Romeo and Juliet, even though you have no reason to trust me, I still want to see you. Do you ever want to talk to me again?
Check the box that most appropriately defines your emotions:
( ) I hate Lucy.
( ) I hate Lucy, but I understand she did what she had to do.
( ) My feelings about Lucy are mixed, but I still want to see her.
( ) I think Lucy is a young woman who exudes strength and beauty in the face of a male dominated section and would love to escort her on a date sometime in the near future.
To: [email protected]
Sam,
Did I also forget to mention that I’m dating a guy on my own Line and he has no clue about you? Can you tell I’ve never been in a relationship before? Is it obvious?
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: I’m sorry…sort of.
Dear Sam,
I’m not sure exactly what to say to you. I know that I did a horrible thing by not telling you w
ho I really was and I’m very sorry for it. Lying is not a part of who I usually am and everything else you saw was just me. The thing is, I knew you wouldn’t want to see me if I did tell you. So, it was a weird Catch-22, but you know what? I’m glad I did go out with you…you’re a great guy and I’m glad we ran into each other that day at the movies.
I wish we could put aside the fact our Lines can’t stand each other and all the history between them. I’d like to see you again, but I completely understand if you never want to talk to me.
South plays Forrest Hills this year at our school. Then band competitions start. And then in November there is indoor. So, I guess I will see you around.
With all apparent sincerity,
Lucy
Lucy sent the last draft and felt marginally better. She wasn’t sure if Sam would ever respond or even read her message, but hoped he would talk to her before their Lines eventually met.
The next day, Lucy looked at the gorgeous face with hazel eyes in front of her, trying to concentrate, but her entire being was taken up by the overwhelming desire to run home and check her in-box to see if Sam had responded. Her phone was tucked in her bag, because she knew if it was in front of her, she would be checking it every six seconds.
You’re not being fair…
I know.
And must I remind you this is Nevada Petersen sitting in front of you? A guy you’ve crushed on for nearly 2 years?
Lucy cringed, realizing how much she must be seriously pissing off the dating gods. She had begged for Nevada to look in her direction and now he was doing exactly that, she wasn’t giving him her full attention. Or even half her attention. Lucy interrupted the cymbal section leader, “Nevada, I’m not feeling well.”
He looked momentarily taken back and asked, “Really?”
Lucy nodded sheepishly and explained, “I just really wanted to see you, but with everything that’s coming up, I don’t want to risk getting sick. Is that okay?”
Nevada flashed a quick smile and said, “Sure thing, Luce, we’ll get you home.”
As they pulled up to the Karate residence, Lucy quickly kissed Nevada’s cheek and said, “Thanks for understanding.”
“You still owe me a date, Lucy Karate.”
Although she assumed his tone of voice would make other girls jump back in the car, Lucy was more focused on going inside to check and see if Sam responded. She smiled at the cymbal player and answered, “I know.”
As she carefully closed the car door and Nevada watched her walk inside, he mused out loud, “So, she wants to play hard to get?”
As soon as she saw Nevada drive away, Lucy sprinted upstairs to her computer and looked to see if she had any new e-mails. When she saw there were none, tears of frustration began forming and finding their way down her face.
“…in conclusion, I think it would be best if the upperclassmen check them out this Friday. After considering all our options, basically, I just don’t want them to forget we’re around,” said Jerm, addressing the upperclassmen gathered at the lunch table on Monday.
Lucy breathed a huge sigh of relief. After the dramatics of Friday night and a disappointing Saturday, she wasn’t going to be able to follow through with her infiltration plan anyway. Relief quickly turned into anxiety when Lucy realized she was going to see Sam. This Friday.
* * *
CHAPTER SEVEN: LET THE GAMES BEGIN
The week wound down to Friday and Lucy still hadn’t received a response of any kind from Sam – not an e-mail or instant message, phone call or text message. In her room, the Forrest Hills junior grudgingly prepared for the big showdown between the drumlines. She didn’t know exactly what was appropriate to wear to see one’s opposing drumline that also included a guy you had lied to, but still kind of wanted to date. After penning a series of somewhat depressing journal entries, Lucy realized she was having a harder time than she thought getting over a relationship that had really just started. She also struggled over whether or not to come clean with her own Line, including Nevada, about the whole thing. As her first attempt with the truth hadn’t gone so well, Lucy decided against it. Anyway, tonight she planned to hang back and work on being invisible, keeping as low a profile as possible.
Maybe the South drummers have already forgotten I completely betrayed their Captain…
And Chuck Norris might lose a fight. Face it, it’s not going to happen.
After calling Molly to check her wardrobe selection, Lucy opted for black shorts, a green tank top, her drumline jacket, and a visor. It wasn’t dressed up, but no one would mistake her for a guy by the length of her shorts. The brunette smiled at her reflection – she had a great pair of legs and was proud to use them when the situation called for it.
At Jerm’s scheduled timing, Lucy drove over to the school. With everyone wearing their drumline jackets, the group looked like some sort of weird gang. Finally, the last person pulled up and Jerm gave the okay to head over to the South Washington stadium. Although Nevada had urged her to ride to the rival school in his car, Lucy chose to ride with Molly in Tom’s minivan. Even though they had arrived early, like Forrest Hills, South Washington’s football team was very competitive and usually filled the stands to a capacity crowd.
As they made their way through the packed bleachers, Lucy noted it was a warm evening early in the fall, the perfect night for a football game, or a halftime show. Jerm had decided the Line was going to make their move when the South Washington percussionists warmed up at the end of the second quarter. Until then, everyone waited on the opposing side benches. South’s stands were full, and wearing a rival Forrest Hills jacket in the middle of them wasn’t exactly the smartest move.
As the buzzer sounded to end the first quarter, it was time to go. Lucy looked across the field and saw the South drummers making their way down through the stands to warm up, zeroing in on Sam, who was one of the few people who could actually pull off looking good in a band uniform. South Washington was also fortunate to have decent colors – their uniforms were a smart dark grey with accents in navy blue and white. Nevada grabbed Lucy’s hand as they walked over to the South percussionists. Usually, Lucy wouldn’t mind this display of affection, but she was quick to drop Nevada’s hand as they neared South’s side.
The South drumline warmed up like every other percussion ensemble, in a half circle with quints on one end, snares in the middle, and basses on the other end. The cymbals hung out in back and stretched out their arms. This setup left optimum room for an instructor to stand in the middle and hear the Line altogether or for another drumline to stare down the opposing drummers. Jerm had chosen the latter of the two. As the Forrest Hills percussionists glared, the South drumline stoically kept their composure through the warm up.
The night would have gone on in this drama-free standoff if not for one particular event. At the end of the drum solo, the South snares attempted a stick toss from one side of the section to the other. The action was unsuccessful and somehow the missing drumstick landed directly in front of Lucy’s flip flopped feet. She had a quick, but important decision to make: a) not to do anything b) throw the stick even further away c) try the patented “bend and snap” move from Legally Blonde, or d) return the stick to Sam, who was apparently missing one.
Lucy knew she had to do the right thing. It was as if time stood still. Both lines were waiting for her reaction. Lucy calmly bent over, retrieved the ProMark “Fitz Stick” and walked over to Sam. She handed the piece of wood across to him, but not before catching his eye and mouthing the words, “I’m sorry,” hoping he would recognize her apology.
Sam gave her a curt nod. Relieved he had actually acknowledged her, Lucy turned to walk back to her Line. She was almost back to her original spot when one of the South drummers said in a low voice, “Bitch.”
With Molly standing off to the side and no other young women present, Lucy knew the epithet was meant for her. She understood perfectly what the “bitch” meant, but the rest of her Line didn’t know
the reference. In rage, Nevada began turning as red as his hair. The rest of the guys looked like they wanted to kill someone. It was one thing to insult the guys on the line or sloppy playing; it was another thing entirely to verbally abuse one of their girls.
Nevada said loudly, “That’s my girlfriend you’re calling a bitch, punk.”
This was news for everyone, including one very surprised Lucy. Most of the Forrest Hills guys had known Lucy and Nevada had been flirting a little more than usual, but they weren’t aware it actually had progressed to a label just yet. Lucy was happy with Nevada, but as they actually had only been on one official (and interrupted) date, she thought it was a little pre-emptive to be throwing out the big “G” word. Sam’s blue eyes locked on Lucy’s green ones. She shook her head briefly and shrugged at the same time, trying to send the message, I am sort of seeing him, but still interested in you too and I’m still really sorry for what happened on Friday.
At this point, things could go either way. The competition between the Lines was a powder keg that had been looking for a catalyst to set it off. Lucy had a vision of an all out brawl, which would be difficult considering the South line were wearing their carriers, uniforms, and drums. Fortunately, cooler minds prevailed. This scenario was all Jerm really wanted anyway – something to charge his Line for the upcoming competitions. Sam, while in uniform, didn’t feel like getting almost forty people in a fight. He’d have detention for the rest of his life, not to mention, significantly reduce the chances that his Line would get to go to the indoor competitions in November.
The Line Page 6
