Disclaimer: I own everything, indeed. All characters are made up, so is the high school, I think. At least that I know of.

Author's Note: First story attempt since 2002. I used to be an avid Dream Street writer. Oh yes. Hope you enjoy. Oh, keep this in mind: Kathya is pronounced Kah-chiyah. Um, perhaps it's easier if you think of it as "caught-chi-yah"? Hope you understand. If not, just let me know.

Allergy
Color Guards are meant to twirl flags

Lucas Davenport sat with the rest of the eleven-strong trumpet section, listening uninterestingly to their section leader, Joe Racey, preach about unnecessary immaturity and respecting the upperclassmen. Of course he would say that, Joe was senior and a fourth year marcher.

"Seems like he says the same speech year after year," Blake Kingly, a junior player, whispered to Lucas.

"Tell me about it," Lucas replied, picking at the carpet of the band room absentmindedly.

In the middle of his lecture, Joe was interrupted by Mr. Jarges, who looked like he was anticipating an announcement for the band by the way he called the band's attention – "Everyone, shattap!"

All heads quickly snapped to the front of the room. Lucas had to lean to his right because his vision of the band director was blocked by the inhumane sized calves of Joe Racey which were probably credited to the four years of marching.

"Tell me if I'm wrong," Mr. Jarges began holding up a piece of paper to his eyes to read. "These are all the people that signed up to drum major try-outs. If you're name isn't called and you signed up, please acknowledge yourself. If you're named isn't called and you're interested, well, too bad because sign-ups are closed."

Several people in the band room chuckled. Lucas bit his tongue. His name would be on the list. In a matter of seconds, Mr. Jarges would broadcast his name, along with several others, to the entire marching band of Shakeston High. Was he ready for the attention?

"Saunders, Emerson," Mr. Jarges began.

Sophomore? A drum major? Never. Lucas thought, spotting Emerson Saunders sitting across the room cross-legged, cradling his clarinet. He could feel all the eyes in the room shifting to look at the second year marcher.

"Gaberon, Juliet."

Possibly. Lucas searched for the junior flautist and found her sitting with her section near the entrance of the band room. She always previously spoke of wanting to try out to everyone, but never actually mustered the courage to.

"Culleun, Kevin."

No, no way. Lucas shook his head, spying at the freshman wannabe. One thing Lucas hated most about underclassmen was that they thought they owned the marching program once they entered high school. The inexperienced, naïve children had nothing on the veteran marchers.

"Davenport, Lucas."

And there it was. The junior trumpet player could feel the burning sensation of all the eyes in the room on him. He nonchalantly looked down at the carpet for a split second before meeting the eyes of Mr. Jarges who acknowledged the boy's presence with a mere glint in his eyes.

"And finally, Cruz, Kathya."

Lucas's mouth nearly dropped at the sound of the name Kathya Cruz. He looked over at the usual corner of the room where the eight members of the color guard usually settled. There they were, in their matching pink practice tanks and black Nike shorts. Half of the current members were fresh faces, the other half returnees. One-fourth of the returnees was Kathya Cruz, a junior guard and second year marcher who was well liked by most of the members of the band, including Lucas, until now.

"Color guards aren't qualified to be drum majors," Lucas hissed at Blake.

"A personal opinion, if you ask me," Blake replied. "Jarges doesn't seem to have a problem with it."

"She doesn't even play an instrument. She doesn't know any of the fundamentals of a true marcher. All she knows is how to twirl a flag and dance while pointing her toes." Lucas analyzed Kathya from across the room. She was smiling at her fellow guard members who seemed ecstatic at the fact she was trying out for such a title.

A title that belonged to Lucas.

"Dude, calm the heck down. Where'd all this hostility come from?" Blake asked rhetorically. "Kevin and Emerson are practically beginning marchers, and they're trying out."

"Try-outs," Mr. Jarges's voice boomed over the side conversations, "will be held next week Wednesday through Friday, after school, here. Did I miss anyone?"

Silence followed.

"Excellent. Those of you who are trying out, I need to see you in my office to hand out the song material and talk details. The rest of you, carry on with whatever you were doing before I interrupted your schooling of knowledge." Jarges exited the room with Emerson, Kevin, Juliet, and Kathya trailing behind him.

"This is ridiculous," Lucas said to Blake, rising from his spot on the floor.

"Nothing you can do about it. Unless you beat her."

Lucas stared at his friend unknowingly.

"In the try-outs. Not physically, genius child."

"I knew that." Lucas began to follow his competitors to Mr. Jarges's office. Upon arriving to the closet sized room, the band director was mid-sentence.

"—boy or girl – "

"What?" Lucas offensively butted in.

"Mr. Davenport. Punctual as always," Mr. Jarges commented sarcastically. "I was just saying, the band will be lead one drum major this year. And it could be a boy or a girl, so don't think just because the guys outnumber the girls that it means you have a better chance."

"One?" Lucas repeated.

"Si, one. Uno, Ichi, Isa, comprende?" Mr. Jarges asked.

Lucas nodded. He looked at everyone around the room and at last, his eyes landed upon Kathya Cruz. Possibly his biggest competition? Experience wise, she and Juliet were the most familiar with marching and maneuvering. But Lucas had a feeling Kathya wanted this way more than the flautist did. Call it manly intuition. Emerson and Kevin? They stood as much chance as an elephant being on America's Next Top Model.

Kathya caught Lucas's eye and smiled politely at him before looking away. Annoyed, Lucas rolled his eyes. You aren't cut out for this, Kathy Cruz, he thought. Color guards are meant to twirl flags, not conduct a band. He focused back on Mr. Jarges's explanation of the try-outs and hoped Kathya Cruz would come to her senses before judgment day.