"Alice! Wake up!" My little brother burst into the room with a certain cheeriness about him that nearly made me want to heave.
"I'm up." It was true, and rung out without a hint of sleepiness. I was already sitting up, watching a movie. American Pie, ironically enough. It was the night before band camp and not once have I ever slept. It was kind of a tradition now, by my senior year.
Lately though, I hadn't been sleeping most nights. Maybe it was in anticipation for seeing my best friend again.
That thought made me hop out of bed and dash to my closet. I threw on my shortest shorts, a tank top, my favorite treble clef necklace, and accessorized with my drum sticks.
I was the current drum captain and best snare player in our band. Those two facts I was sincerely proud of. I waltzed into the band hall twenty minutes later, drumming on walls, doors, and people in greeting.
"BUDDY!" A voice rang out, low and true, and I was suddenly hit with a force from the side that knocked me off of my feet.
"H-hey..." I choked out, adjusting myself so that I could see my offender. Though I was a little short for air at the moment. Ah, there was that stark-straight ginger hair, cut all emo-boy-band-side-sweepy-poser-like (as I usually described it to him), that light scattering of freckles along the upper cheekbones...those dark green eyes...
"Morning sunshine! God, I haven't seen you all summer! Damn camp. Well, at least I got paid for being a counselor this year. Yay, moo-lah! Hey, are those bags under your eyes because you're getting old, or-" The boy (man? - who knew?) rambled, grinning.
"Smith! You're a drum major, no time for sex!" Yelled our band director, emerging from the depths of the office.
"Oh, but sir, there's always time for sex! Especially with Alice!"
"Get off!" I squeaked, laughing. He rolled off of me, but took me with him. Suddenly, I was on top, dust from the band hall floor floating off of my back and to the ground. It fell around us in a slow, lazy motion, but all I was focused on was his damn smirk.
"Have I ever told you I like a woman on top?"
"Only every day. Can we learn some basics now?"
"I'll teach you all you need to know." James Smith, my long time best friend, trom-boner player extrodinare, and new drum major, grinned up at me mischievously.
"Oh, shut your trap." I got off of him and stood with a yawn. Time to get to work.
I got my instrument on and tapped out the rhythm for the warm ups, meanwhile my eyes were on James. He was up there conducting for the first time. But he wasn't nervous at all. That's just how he was. Always confident and blatant about everything he did. We started running through basic march
"Okay, everyone. Coordinate sheets are up here, grab the one with your name on it. And pay careful attention to your number. Your number is your new identity. Snare One, TEN HUT, TEN HUT!" James' voice rang out.
"AND PRIDE!" I yelled back, snare sticks going firmly to my armpits (God, who thought of this ten-hut position for the drum line?) and my feet snapping together. The whole entire band went silent, eyes on me. But mine were totally focused on James, while his locked with mine. It was complete and utter silence on the field. Then he broke the contact and it was all over.
"This is Snare One. Not Alice Faye. Got it, band? Flute Seven-" He proceeded to show his reign as everyone got their sheets. Only me and a few others were at ten hut. And Lord, was it hot in the parking lot.
Three hours into fundamentals, then suddenly a ten-hut? I was dying out there. My vision swam, my insides twisted painfully, and the hot sun beat down on me like a baseball bat on a kitten. "Oh geez..." I said, swaying a bit. The fresh-fish next to me looked over with concern. "Are you alright?" He inquired innocently.
"SNARE ONE, SNARE TWO! THERE IS NO TALKING IN TEN HUT! SET AN EXAMPLE FOR YOUR UNDER-" James shouted from his podium, but that was all I heard before my body hit the ground limply.
I wasn't out for long. That's how these things work, if you've ever fainted at band camp. I did the first day of my freshman year, and it was exactly like this. I had woken up being carried by two drum majors. Boy, did that make fourteen year old me feel fat. But, granted, they were each little things, less than five feet tall and under 100 pounds each. This time, when I awoke, I almost saw their faces in a momentary flashback. But it wasn't them.
It was James, all by himself, carrying me bridal-style. And looking up into his worried face, focused on something ahead of us, I could see every little freckle. How they all seemed to glitter in the hot Texas sun. Hehe...spreckles. Sparkly freckles!
I was quite out of it.
But soon enough, someone had opened up the door to their pick up and I was put in the drivers seat. It was turned on, and cool air coming out of the vents seemed like a blessing straight down from the good Lord himself.
"Talk to me, Faye." He said worriedly, not in "drum major" mode for the moment. It was standard "keep the stupid freshman from getting a concussion" procedure, and all seniors were supposed to know it.
I simply giggled. "You have spreckles!" I exclaimed, in a voice similar to that of a little girl.
He blinked, then burst out laughing.
"That's my Alice."
My Alice. Thinking back on the incident later, I decided that I liked the sound of that.
AN: You should review. Really. It's a fanfiction author's only payment. Plus! I need inspiration for more one-shots. So...just include some random word at the end of your review. Like "socks" or something. It would really help out a lot, thank you! Constructive criticism appreciated much! Oh! And by the way! I got the sparkly freckles idea from a book...called "Wings" or something like that. So I don't own that part. Just saying. I actually threw in that as kind of a...last minute detail. Then I ended up tossing my idea about insomnia and it became the main feature. I dunno. Whatever. Just...have a nice day, alright? God bless!