Keeping in Line
Page 1
Keeping in Line
A Novel
By
Courtney Brandt
Published by Courtney Brandt at Smashwords
Copyright December 2010 Courtney Brandt
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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.
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Dedicated to B and Rae…
and the many fun times we’ve had around the world.
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Other books in The Line Series
The Line (available in print and digital release)
A Fine Line (available in print and digital release)
The Line Up (available in print and digital release)
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Room 631.
Always crowded.
Always open.
Double doors into a new world.
The best Coke machine in the school.
The best "toys,"
Nearly the size of a closet.
Barely enough room to function, but we make do.
The best groups come out of this room.
The most dedicated and motivated.
Nothing can compare to the things this room can do.
We don't need nice tv sets, video gaming systems or couches.
We have our instruments.
These walls have absorbed the sounds of thousands of kids.
The music stands have held hours of music.
This room will feel empty without me.
But it will soon be full of new kids, starting their adventures in room 631.
by Krissi Banks (used with permission)
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CONTENTS
PROLOGUE: Can I Graduate?
CHAPTER ONE: Summertime and the Livin’s…
CHAPTER TWO: Boot Camp
CHAPTER THREE: A Simple Plan
CHAPTER FOUR: Strategery
CHAPTER FIVE: Operation Tattletale
CHAPTER SIX: Boys Will Be Boys
CHAPTER SEVEN: Facing the Music
CHAPTER EIGHT: Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps
CHAPTER NINE: Rumors
CHAPTER TEN: Discussions
CHAPTER ELEVEN: How Do You Talk To A Drummer?
CHAPTER TWELVE: Drumline Idol
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: This Means War!
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: If You’re On Time (You’re Five Minutes Late)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Hollaback…Boy?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: With A Little Help From My Friends
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Accelerando
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: I’ll Never Fall in Love, Again
CHAPTER NINETEEN: The Minor Fall, The Major Lift
CHAPTER TWENTY: Crossing the Line
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: Battery Operated
Acknowledgements
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PROLOGUE: Can I Graduate?
Dear Journal,
I can’t believe Lucy’s class has graduated. It seems like only yesterday I was meeting all of them for the first time as a little naïve freshman. Not that much has changed on that front…but I’m getting ahead of myself. Where are my manners? As I’m starting a new journal, I’d better reintroduce myself although nothing really exciting or revolutionary has changed in the four days since I ended my last journal and began this one. My name is Bronwyn Margaret Flueger. I am a (recently turned) fifteen year old and officially (school got out today) in between the summer of my freshman and sophomore year, so I’m not sure if that makes me froshmore or a sophoman. Of course, there’s one thing that pretty much sets me apart from most girls my age:
I’m a drummer.
So, how would I describe myself? (Or, more honestly, how do I want to remember myself when I look back and read this one day?) Well, I’m on the short side of 5’2” with red hair. I wish it was a prettier red, because in reality it’s kind of a warm scarlet color that clashes with everything. It is my own natural color which is cool, but it is a wild curly mess and some days I’d rather I didn’t have any hair at all. My eyes are a blueish gray and I struggle to fill a B cup.
Introductory sidebar over, what’s the big deal about graduation? Firstly, I had to go and see my friends on their big night. The seniors of the Forrest Hills drumline are some pretty important people to this froshmore/sophoman. They were all members of a group that is pretty much my reason for living – the drumline.
And I’ll go ahead and brag here because I am marching SNARE this season! Every time I write it or read it or hear other people talk about it, I still can’t believe it’s actually real. I keep expecting to wake up, get a call from Henry (our Instructor) and have him tell me it’s all some huge mistake and I’m actually lucky to be playing the triangle. This is something Lucy (more on her later) tells me I need to work on. Generally, percussionists are gifted with a healthy dose of attitude and confidence. As you might be able to guess, I missed that class. I know I’m good; I just sometimes have problems projecting that image. Not helping the scenario are some very intense upperclassmen that make up the rest of my section. On paper, I know I can keep up with them, but reality is a different matter. I’m going to have to be my best this year because I know everyone’s going to be watching and waiting for me to mess up. I was the only freshman to make the jump to the snare line and of course, there’s the whole “only” girl thing to go with it. I’m the first girl in five generations of the Forrest Hills Line to make snare. There’s a lot of pressure, but I’m not going to let it get to me. Fortunately, I do get a bit of time to build myself up to a place where I feel a comfortable and confident member of the section. We’re having a number of practices – snares only – during the summer. That should give me enough time to figure out that I actually belong with them.
Okay, okay…so, back to graduation. Remember those seniors I was mentioning? There was one very important person among them – Lucy Karate. So, who is Lucy and why is she my hero? Well, you’d have to consult journals 7-9 for those stories, but I’ll give you the short version – she’s basically everything a drumline girl could hope to be…except maybe Captain, which is totally what I want to be thanks to Lucy. Remember that naïve little freshman I was telling you about? Well, I would be even more socially awkward had it not been for Lucy. She took me under her wing last season and literally transformed me into a different person. Without getting all Lifetime Original story, I can assure you that when I started at Forrest Hills, I was this shy dork who didn’t know how to flirt, let alone talk to boys my age (kind of a problem considering my chosen section). Now, I will admit I still have a long way to go, but I have a lot more confidence on that front. I fully believe the confidence Lucy gave me allowed me to ‘man up’ and have the proverbial cajones to audition for (and make) snare.
In addition to Lucy, I’m also very sad to see Tom go. I’ll admit, next to my weird infatuation on Drew (more on that later), I had a bit of a crush on the former quint section leader…but watching him with Jewel, well, it’s not like he and I were ever going to be anything, so he should be happy with someone. He always made me laugh and paid attention to me, which, when
you’re a freshman is sometimes the best you’re going to get.
I’m definitely going to miss them, but with all the ways to keep in touch these days, I know they won’t be too far away. Don’t ask me why, but I have a feeling I’ll need Lucy in my life if I’m going to make it through this season alive. Fortunately, she’s going to State which isn’t that far and she promised to try and come back for a game or two.
Well, I’d better go and practice. In fact, I’m surprised J.D. hasn’t already called me to see if I’m drumming. As I’m sure I’ve mentioned in previous journals, J.D. is going to be a senior and was recently chosen as this year’s captain. Oh, I mean Captain with a capital C. And actually, if I wrote his name like all the Guard girls say it I would be writing Jay Deeeeeeeeeeee while going all googly eyed. Now, I’ll admit he is cute, but Lucy warned me to stay away from dating in the Line, making my life ‘unnecessarily complicated.’ It’s no big deal for me – when I’m with the rest of the Line after summer, I’m planning on concentrating on the music and drill only. Plus, I've got my eye on someone else.
Yes, even though I was very slow to admit it – I have major feelings for one of our three drum majors. His name is Drew O’Malley. He’s a senior and last year when I was in Pit, we talked a lot. Well, it’s not like we had deep and meaningful conversations, but we did interact on a usual basis. Anyway, once the season ended, I didn’t see him that much, which was kind of sad. Furthermore, he’s going to be all kinds of busy this season, so it’s not like he would even have time to see me. He’s the senior drum major, plus, this year Mr. Izzo decided to add an additional person to help lead the band. This is a first for us, so we’ll have to see how it all works out.
I guess I’ll just have to crush from across the field. Or, maybe this is the year things are different…
Oh, one more thing, back to what else? Drumline. Even though Lucy and my old section leader Molly are graduating, it’s not like I’m the singular “girl” on the Line. Beth and Valerie are girls in Pit and are both freshmen this year. I met them at the Warm-up Week we had for all the incoming 8th graders. They seem cool enough, but that means, like Lucy was last year, I am the only girl on the Battery. I’m cool with it. I just hope I can get to the point Lucy was at. Everyone respected her, but they also totally knew she was a girl too. I wonder how she did that.
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.