A/N-This one-shot is totally different then "Did You Miss Me?" No connection whatsoever. I wrote this in 9th grade and a year later on the day of a competition I'm fixing this up so you can have something to read. Enjoy and review when you're done!
Friday Nights
Tonight I watched with pride as my daughter followed in her father's and my footsteps and took the field in performance. Madison is a freshman and my oldest child. She's in her high school's marching band, of which I am an alumni. I spent four amazing years in the band. Before leaving our house, I told Madison of the last home football game of my junior year, which leads me back to the time I was 16…
Friday nights had been the highlight of my school week since I was a freshman. I'm a junior now, but the thrill of the varsity football team destroying the away team at the last few minutes of the game still excites me every time.
The feel of the keys of my sax underneath the gloves at halftime reminds me of why I chose marching band in the first place. The other guys in my section felt the same way; it's always a different experience under the lights.
Tonight, however, was different.
Tonight was the last game of my junior year, the game where everything gets crazy and emotional. It was also a home game, which also meant a lot to the graduating seniors. The last game of the football season was also the day where next year's band leaders were announced-the drum major and the respected section captains. The other juniors had narrowed it down to two people who could be drum major. The two people were my best friend Spencer and I. The both of us had been dedicated band members since our freshman year, and we also did indoor drum line during the off season (I was in the pit on vibraphone and Spencer played bass). We both played alto sax in the concert, jazz, and marching bands. We weren't rivals though; we always laughed off the multitude of shared awards that still travel from house to house monthly.
That Friday night was a really cold night in late November. Spencer and I had ran to the pizza place across the street to get two large pizzas with everything on them for the sax section (our last-game-goodbye-saxes tradition) and ate them with the rest of the section in the alcove near the vending machines.
"Emma…"
"What?" I asked, looking into his light blue eyes.
"Hi." He whispered in my ear. I rolled my eyes. That's what I loved about being around him-he was so random.
"Hi." I whispered back.
"We're juniors" Spencer noted.
"I noticed."
"We're so old. I mean, we're going to be seniors next year." He stated.
"Yeah, we'll be in control next year. We get to help teach freshmen how to march." I had just realized that I was going to be eighteen in about a year and a half, which to me was a very short time.
"And you're going to be drum major. I just know it." He thought out loud.
Personally I was pretty shocked. I really wanted to be drum major-it had been my dream since I was a freshman. However, I never thought that I would ever get it.
"How do you know?" I asked
"It's just kind of the thing you know. You'd make an amazing drum major. And also a lot of people have been saying that, too."
At this time, one of the sophomores yelled, "Get a room!" and Spencer jumped up to go hang him upside down (he only did that when people really annoyed him; I knew from personal experience).
Drum major? Me? I thought I had a slight chance of getting that coveted spot up on the podium, but never had I thought that others felt the same way. I thought that I wasn't good enough. I thought that Spencer would get it.
Later that night, I was, yet again, one of the first to get changed. This gave me more time to hang out with my friends while not having to worry about the hazard of getting changed in the girl's bathroom fifteen minutes before going out onto the field. In talking to some of my other friends in the other sections, I learned that there was a campaign behind my back for Emma Roland for drum major. I rolled my eyes at the crazy antics of my friends. Love them as I do, they are absolutely out of their minds.
"You did what?!?!" I cried.
"I left a poster saying "Roland + drum major Group 3 Open Champs" on Talyor's office door." My flute playing friend Torrie revealed.
"Oh, great going genius." I groaned at my friend's weirdness.
"Anytime. Now can you do me?" She asked, turning around so I could "do her". I zipped and button the back of her tunic for her.
By the time the stadium was filling up with people, we started lining up outside the band room. Spencer filled in next to me as we marched on to the field in our block. The band marched on to the beat of the street cadence and we took our places in the opening set.
"The Hidden Valley High School Marching Band proudly presents this years show entitled "Sold Out: Smash Broadway Shows". We start out with a trip to "Chicago" with "All That Jazz". Then we fly into "Defying Gravity" from the musical "Wicked". "I Dreamed A Dream" from Les Miserables is the next song we dreamt up for a ballad. To finish off this year's show, we "Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life" with Monty Python's "Spamalot". Taylor the band director (often called Mr. T. because he loves to quote "The A Team"), announced to the crowd. "And don't forget, at the end of the band's performance, I'll be announcing next year's drum major and section captains. The Hidden Valley Marching Band would like to thank the fans, band parents and staff at Hidden Valley High School for all their support of the marching band and performing arts. Thanks, and have a magical night here at Hidden Valley."
Way to make me nervous T. I thought. I didn't have time to be nervous though; I had a show to put on.
Every time we performed a show, I was amazed at how fast it goes. A ten minute show felt like less then two when I'm out on the field marching. But now, here I am in the ending set, standing at parade rest. The show was complete and the crowd was going wild. Mr. T. had taken the microphone away from the anti-band gym teacher who announces for the game and had started to talk again.
"Ladies and gentlemen, that was your Hidden Valley Marching Band. Now before the juniors have an absolute spaz attack, I'm going to announce the captains and drum major for next year. This year's junior class is a great bunch of kids, always ready to lend a hand to the next generation of marchers and do other stuff that I can't remember. But they really are great. And now! The moment everyone's been waiting for-juniors, if you hear your name, please salute. Or wave. Just acknowledge yourself. Next year's Guard Captain is Kaitlyn Garuco." Kaitlyn, one of my friends and an expert at throwing pointy things and then catching them, stepped forward and waved.
"Battery Captain-Keith Anderson" Keith, a snare drum player, looked shocked but pleased as he saluted.
"Brass Captain- Hannah Johnson". Hannah, an extremely nice mellophone player saluted, and then waved.
"Woodwind Captain-Spencer Winter" Spencer removed his sax from his neck strap and saluted to much cheering from our friend in the stands.
"And finally, our drum major. This person has a lot of enthusiasm, and is a very helpful person. She is always willing to help out a freshman in need. This person is someone who I'm honored to call our drum major. The drum major, I am proud to say, is Miss Emma Roland!" As if in a daze, I removed my sax, stepped forward and saluted the crowd. The people in the stands cheered and jumped to their feet. I could hear the screaming of my friends from the other side of the field. As the new drum major, I got to leave the field to call the band to attention with the current drum major, a senior named Matt.
I joined him up at the podium where we turned to the band and in unison shouted "Band Ten Hut!", "Right turn move!" and finally "Forward, march!" to get the band off the field.
In the stands that night, I found Spencer. He greeted me with a large hug that swept me off my feet as he spun me through the air.
"You did it! I knew you would!" He was proud and overjoyed for me. I was as well, but it hadn't sunk in yet. I didn't think it ever would.
Even now, as my oldest daughter now stood on the field that her parents once marched on, I think about those teenage years, and about the life friends I made, and of all the life lessons I had learned. Madison is growing up fast, and the best years are yet to come.
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