Chapter 1

Lorelai- After School

5:45

Shit. I'm late. Mrs. O is going to kill me. I picked up my pace as I ran to the band room. Almost there, I rounded the last corner and ran right into someone heading in the oppiste direction.

"Shit" I breathed as I looked up at the ceiling tiles.

"Hello, to you too" he said as he got up

"Sorry I'm just running very late." It was a pathetic excuse, but what else was there to say?

He was tall, 6'2 was my guess, and very gangly. His brown curly hair was a mess and his eyes penetrated me like they could read my soul. I looked away from them and stared at my feet.

"Marcus" he said offering his hand.

I took it and mumbled "Lorelai"

"Well Lorelai, I wont keep you from whatever is so important." He picked up his fallen duffel bag and continued around the corner.

Glancing at my watch, I saw that it was 6:02. SHIT now I was definitely dead. I sprinted the rest of the way to the band room. Finally I reached the double doors and upon opening them, found everyone staring at me.

"Glad you decided to show up Miss O'Daniels" Mrs. O said calmly from her podium. "Do you have a good enough reason why you are late, did not show up for sectionals and are now interrupting practice?"

"No mama." This was bad. I was in deep trouble.

"Then get you instrument and sit in your seat. Everyone else head down to the field and Alex will run you through warm ups." Alex, senior field commander, lead the rest of the band out of the room. Now I had to face Mrs. O's wrath alone.

As quickly as I could I got my Mellophone, music, drill charts and everything else needed for practice and sat in my seat.

Mrs. O was still at her podium, solemnly looking over this weekend's schedule. When she finally spoke her voice was quiet, not at all what I planned for, "Lorelai, do you not understand how hard this is for me?" Suddenly I was wishing she was yelling at me, it would have been easier to deal with.

I did very much understand how difficult it was for her. Last year she was only the assistant director, and upon the retiring of Mr. Zifman she became the head director. Rumor said she was under a lot of pressure from the school; I didn't need to hear it though the grapevine to know it was true. I knew because I lived with her, she was my mother.

"I have to be twice as hard on you," she continued, "because if not people will say your getting special treatment." She ran her fingers though her hair, a nervous habit of hers and finally looked up. "So you'll understand why I'm going to punish you differently than if it were someone else?"

"Yes, mama"

"Good then go down to the field and finish warm-ups with the band" and once again my mother was gone and I was Miss O'Daniels and she was Mrs. O, teacher and student.

I knew practice was going to be bad as I walked to the field, what shocked me though was the glares I got form the rest of the band as I slid into my spot in "basics block." Alex finished with warm-ups as Mrs. O. came down to the field.

Once we were done, Mrs. O. asked "What is the first rule in the rule book?"

"If one of us is late, we are all late." 250 voices yelled as one.

"So seeing as how you are all late to practice, you all will be punished." She had been walking through the rows as she said this and stopped in form of me. Miss O'Daniels, care to lead them through across-the-fields?" she was holding out a red block and drum stick to me. "Set the beat at 50 Alex"

As I took my self out of formation, I could feel the glares form my band-mates. Alex's voice rang out, "Line up for across the field." And when everyone was lined up, 2 single file lines starting al the goal line on the hash marks, his whistle blew out an impossibly slow beat and the first 2 people stepped out on my clicks. I wished I was dead instead of watching my fellow bandies alternate slides and flanks as I did nothing.

Marcucio

Friday morning was as every other fall day in the city of Cincinnati, crazy as every other fall day in the city of Cincinnati, hectic. I sat in the back seat of my Mini Cooper as, Sarah; my 16 year old sister drove a stick shift. It was only the seventh time, under the watchful gaze of my father. Yes it was my car, but dad wanted Sarah to drive in morning traffic, so I, being the loving brother I am, handed over my precious keys. Surprisingly I was happy to be the passenger today, my mind didn't seem to be processing information well, and driving in rush hour was not going to help it.

"Marcus, are you going to the game tonight" Dad asked as we arrived at the school.

"I don't know" I wasn't a big football fan; usually I went to support Sarah. My little sister made it onto the varsity cheerleading squad this year and occasionally I would stop in and watch her. Other than that I much preferred to spend my Friday night at the local Barns and Noble or one of the small parks throughout the city.

"If ya change your mind stop in and till me after practice, I'll be here till 5:30." Dad or Mr. Z. as he was known by my fellow classmates was the sophomore English teacher. It wasn't bad, I thought it would be horrible to have my father teach a class I had to take, but he was cool about it. During school he treated me like any other student.

"Okay" I replied as I grabbed my books, violin and duffle bag from the trunk. When I looked up he was already gone. "See ya" I said as I passed Sarah.

"No you wont" she yelled after me, "Cheer party before the game and I'm spending the night with Ann.

As I walked up to the school, I saw a red-head bob though the crowd and thought of Lorelai. What was she doing at that moment? Shaking my head I wondered why I'd thought that. Upon reaching the doors a skinny hand grabbed my shoulder.

"Welcome to another fun day at Sycamore High" Zane my best friend said. His voice was leaded with sarcasm. His long red hairs hung lose and with a shake of his head, flung it away to reveal pale blue eye.

"It won't be that bad," I said turning away from the main crowd and heading down the music hall.

His look was one of pity, "Yeah and pigs fly"

"In this city they do" I reminded him as I opened the orchestra doors.

"Look" he said putting his cello in its cubby, "Every football player is going to be talking about the game. Every cheerleader is going to as well, while showing some skin" he glanced sideways at me and mumbled, "No offence to Sarah" turning away he continued "It's just better if we weren't here."

"Touchy" I said as we left to head up to our lockers. A girl was slouched against my locker as Zane and I neared it. She was wearing a short dark blue and green pleated skirt, a tunic-ish top with a corset all revealing a pale muscular body. Her bubble gum pink purple highlighted hair covered her face and hid the ear buds she wasn't allowed to have. I could hear her favorite band, Nightwish as I neared her confirming that her ears were being blasted out. She wasn't Goth, although you think she was if you saw her heavy dark make-up. She wasn't emo, having never cut herself; having never seen her face to face you would mistake her for a singer. Truth is she can't be labeled; she is a poet, scholar, dancer, swimmer, Renaissance freak, pianist, artist and my other best friend.

"Morning Sharmain," Zane greeted her as he pulled out an ear bud, so she could hear.

Her response was a slap and a glare as she grabbed her ear bud and slid off my locker. The only greeting she gave me was a nod of acknowledgment.

"Must be having a bad morning" Zane mumbled as he opened his locker.

"Or it could just be you" I offered as I grabbed my Calc, English and Government books.

"Ha, Ha, Ha" his sarcastic laugh was interrupted by Mrs. Johnson's the principle, voice cutting over the loud speaker.

"All students report to the gym for a pep rally and Homecoming court announcements."

"Great this day is getting so much better" Zane grumbled as he headed toward the gym.

Sighing I tapped Sharmain and headed off to my torture.

"I got tickets for WICKED" Sharmain said as we went to the gym, "bring a girl friend" she left me groaning, another thing to ruin my horrible day.