Disclaimer: None of these characters are based upon people I know. They are all made up and straight from my head. I'm so creative.

There's No People Like Band People
Chapter One

"Shayla, we're gonna be late!"

I groaned as I quicked my strokes as I brushed my teeth. "I'm coming!" I shouted back to my little sister, Gabby, before I spit the toothpaste out into the sink. I whipped my face, gave myself a quick once-over in the mirror, and decided I needed a pony-tail.

"Shayla, Dad already left!" Gabby shouted again.

I stuck my head out the bathroom door and looked at Gabby, who was at the bottom of the stairs. "I'm coming, all right?"

"You're not coming, you're primping," Gabby said, crossing her arms in defiance.

"Don't make me come down there," I growled, pulling my wavy, golden blonde hair into a pony-tail holder and then grabbing my visor and sunglasses from on the sink.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you," Gabby said.

"I am so going to kill you later," I mumbled under my breath as I quickly ran into my room and threw on a pair of flip-flops. My dad was going to kill me for wearing sandals, but he'd get over it. I checked myself over in the mirror in my room. I had this thing with looking at my reflection - I wasn't sure why. It's not that I really cared about my vanity; I just didn't want to look like total crap. I was wearing a pair of khaki-green shorts and a white tank top that read "Six Flags Lifeguard" on it and a red cross on it.

"Good enough," I sighed, picking up my keys from my dresser as I ran down the stairs.

"About time," Gabby muttered as I pushed her out the door. I glanced at my watch. I had ten minutes to get to school. It took about fifteen when I went the speed limit and since speed limits don't apply to me, I'd get there in about five.

My name is Shayla Jazinski. I'm 16 and a junior at Phillips High School. I was also Drum Major in the school marching band and my sister and I were going to get it if we didn't get to the school on time, mainly because our dad was the band director. Nothing like having your father being a teacher. My sister, the proud Gabrielle Jazinski, is 14 and a freshman and PHS. She's a newbie at marching band and thought it was the greatest thing ever. Ah, to be young and impressionable.

"I get to pick the station," Gabby said, getting into my car.

"Ha," I said, opening the car door. "That's what you think."

"No, that's what I know," Gabby said, flipping through the stations the second that I started the car.

"Fine," I said, not wanting to argue with her anymore.

As soon as I had pulled out of the driveway, my cell phone rang. "For crying out loud... hello?" I said, flipping the cell on.

"You're not supposed to use those while driving," Gabby said, still searching for a radio station.

"Shut up, Gabby," I muttered. "Hello?" I said again.

"Hey, Shay, it's Brian," came a hushed voice.

"Brian, what's going on?" I asked, confused. Brian Walters was the other Drum Major. He was a year older than me, but acted as though he was a year younger. He was also one of my good friends.

"Where are you?" he asked.

"Where are you?" I countered. "I just left my house. I have about eight minutes."

"Your dad is getting restless," Brian said. "I'm in his office right now, but I think he's about ready to kill you the second you walk into the band room."

"Crimony," I said, pushing a little harder on the accelerator. "I'm not late, though."

"You know your dad," Brian said, sighing. "'To be on time is to be late, to be early is to be on time, to be late is to never be,'" he quoted.

"Jeez," I said. "You'd think he'd ease up on his kids."

"You know better than that," Gabby said, scoffing.

"Oh, crap, here he comes," Brian said, panicking. "Um, it's my mom, Mr Jazinski...Sure, Mom, I'll pick up some bread...Uh, Mom, Mr Jazinski wants to talk to you."

"Brian, no!" I said before I heard my dad say, "Hello, Mrs Walters?"

"Uh, yes, why, hello Tom," I said, trying to sound like Brian's mom.

"Shayla, if you don't get your butt in this school in five seconds or less, you're grounded," my dad said, recognizing my voice.

"Dad, that's racist against your family members," I said. "Besides, it's Gabby's fault we're late."

"Is not!" Gabby protested.

"Oh, look at this, Dad, we're pulling into the school parking lot right now," I said. "See you in a few!" I quickly hung up.

"You're in trouble," Gabby said, taunting me.

"Don't make me kill you," I said, pulling into a parking space.

"Empty threat," Gabby said, grabbing her flute from the backseat as she jumped out of the car and ran into the school.

"That's what you think," I said, turning the key in the ignition and leaning my head against the car seat.

I looked at the school. Good old Phillips High. Home of the Phillips Titans. Now we just had to win a game once in a while. Our football team was, well, lacking. Don't get me wrong; they won a game once in a while. Once in a great while, true, but they still won. But you always knew something was wrong when there were more cheers for the marching band than the football team. Not that I'm complaining.

I decided that I'd might as well accept my fate and got out of the car. It was a hot, humid, and sticky Wisconsin afternoon. The day was just made for marching band. Yes, you read that right. Hot, humid, and sticky Wisconsin afternoon. Believe it or not, Wisconsin isn't always the "frozen tundra" that we're made out to be. Sure, it is nine months out of the year, but still. We have three months of unbearably hot weather followed by nine months of unbearably cold weather. Quite the trade-off.

I walked into the school, preparing to be chewed out by my father. I turned down the music hallway. I waved a hello to a couple of band parents that were working on sizing some freshmen into their uniforms.

"Nice of you to join us, Shayla," I was greeted with by my father.

I rolled my eyes. "I am on time," I said, looking at the clock. "If I was any more on time, I'd be early."

"Whatever," my dad said, waving a dismissive hand. "Now that our other Drum Major has decided to arive, we can go out to the field. Don't bother bringing your instruments yet; just the field charts. If we get far enough before break, we'll come and get our instruments."

The band started to file out in sections. You could always tell one section from another. We did have many band-section prejudices in our band, but people always seemed to hang around those in their family - especially the freshmen.

"Just in time," Brian said, giving me his goofy grin and his green eyes were twinkling.

"Dur," I said, going to my band locker and grabbing my whistle. "You know, I think that the biggest perk of being Drum Major has to be the whistle," I said, twirling the whistle around my finger.

"And why might that be?" Brian asked, giving me a questioning look.

"Come on - the whistle, when blown properly, has to be the loudest instrument next to the trumpets," I said.

"Gee, why don't they have them in concert season?" Brian asked, pretending to be thinking hard.

"I have no idea," I said, leading Brian out to the field.

"Wait, Brian! Wait for me!" came a high voice from behind us.

I groaned quietly and Brian mouthed "Be nice." The person was Karyn Miller. I don't know why, but for some reason, Karyn and I just never got along. There was something about her that irked me. But, it was also common knowledge that Karyn liked Brian. It was weird, mainly because Karyn and I were best friends up until we entered highschool. That's when I met Brian and became friends with him. Obviously, Karyn met him since we were still friends at the time, and she fell for him. She was always jealous of my friendship with Brian and it really bugged me. But, halfway through our freshman year, we just kind of stopped talking and hanging out. I became friends with new people, she became friends with new people. We just...drifted. Sometimes I wish that Karyn and I were still friends, but this was not one of those times.

Karyn ran up to Brian, practically throwing me out of the way and into a wall. "Oh...sorry," she said, glancing at me, then giving her complete attention to Brian. "Brian, hi, how are you?"

"Just peachy," Brian said, giving me a look.

I gritted my teeth and jerked my head toward the doors to go out to the field. "We'd better get moving. Especially you, Karyn. My dad was going to focus mainly on the flutes today since you guys weren't doing to great yesterday."

"Who died and made you in charge?" Karyn asked, flipping her auburn hair.

"She is a Drum Major," Brian said, biting his lip.

"Well, I didn't vote for her," Karyn said, rolling her eyes.

"Whatever," I said, starting to walk outside.

I always tried really hard to avoid confrontation when it came to Karyn. I mean, Brian is my best friend and I had to be nice to his friends - even those I didn't like. But when it came to Karyn, I couldn't stand it anymore. I mean, it was obvious that she didn't like me, so why did I have to pretend?

I walked the familiar path to the marching field, pretty much zoned out. I knew my way better than I knew the way home. That's what you get for being a dedicated band geek.

I suppose now you're waiting for me to spill my true feelings on how I'm madly in love with Brian and my biggest hope is that one day we will get married, have three kids, a dog, a cat, two fish, and a white picket fence and live happily ever after. Well, if that's what you're expecting, surprise! Brian and I are best friends, like I said earlier. Sure, early on in our friendship, I had liked him more than that, but, over the course of our friendship, I figured out that it wasn't going to happen. I know this sounds weird, but I think we had too much in common to ever be anything more than friends. That probably doesn't make much sense, but it does in my mind.

Before I knew it, I was at the field. I looked around and smiled. As usual, there were the freshmen who had no idea what they were doing; the sophomores who, since they weren't freshmen, figured they ruled the field; the juniors who were trying to get everyone to get it right; and the seniors, who were laughing at the rest of them from their correct spots.

Just another day at PHS band camp...



Author's Note: Like I said above, none of these characters are based on people I know. So, no, I don't know anyone that's as butt-muchy as Karyn. Shayla, however, is based mainly on me... Dun dun dun... Anywho, read and review! ^^