My name is James Hall. I'm fifteen, a sophomore at Sawyers High School, and play wide receiver on the school's Varsity football team.
I'm pretty big for my age, height wise, and have been confused for a senior and even a college student a numerous amount of times.
I don't like to brag much, but I can say that I'm well built. It doesn't help much either that I succeed with everything that I try, whether it be sports or school, without me meaning to.
It seems like ever since I was a kid, things came to me naturally. I didn't have much passion for anything.
But, the summer of my 15th year changed everything.
Being a first string player on the team in football, I was to go through summer training, in which half of it was on the school's field that was used for all kinds of sports; Football, rugby, soccer, track. And apparently, it was also used for the school marching band, as one of their practice days ended up falling on one of ours. Our head coach talked to their band director, and they compromised that we'd get the field, while they used the track around it for practice. My so called 'friends', another thing that I had acquired without doing much, bumped me on the shoulder, laughing that they had to share the field with losers.
"Stupid band nerds. They have no life, huh Jimmy?" One had said to me, laughing afterward with the others. I liked my real name, James, just fine. I didn't care much for what they called me, or what they were saying, and just shrugged my shoulders.
I blankly looked up from my position on the field, from my superficial friends to the group of musicians lined up at the start of the track. They immediately got into place, some instruments gleaming from the sunlight. I raised a hand up to my eyes as the shining light struck them, trying to shield it before a cloud ran over the hot, summer sun, blocking most of it. My gloved hand dropped to my side, as now I could view them without much trouble.
A single person dressed in casual clothes moved to the front of the group, a large, silver baton in hand. Now that I took a good look at them, they were all in casual clothes. Looking at them each individually, I processed that they weren't all the stereotypical band type. Some were large, and looked to be promising football players.
The group was slightly chatting, still getting into position. A whistle blew, and the all stood in attention, weapons of music raised, keenly waiting for their leader's signal to move forward. My eyes darted back to the so called leader, the one holding the baton in front of them, whistle between his lips. He blew another short tweet, and they all started marching simultaneously.
It wasn't long till my coach called me into attention, made me go through the drills that the rest of the team were performing. Some chuckled at my state of absentmindedness, disregarding it soon after we ended the main drills. After doing so, I couldn't help but hear the band at the back of my mind, soft footsteps brushing against the track's ground, their timing perfect, not one step out of place. Even as the team scrimmaged, I heard the click of drumstick's against the outer part of their drums.
The percussionists' cadence started, a semi-short melody that only consisted of drums and such. The beat got into my head, and it wouldn't let go, even as I ran to catch the ball that the senior quarterback had thrown to me.
Then, the band finally started to play after the roll off. They sounded impressive as they played an all too familiar song, "Gonna Fly Now", the theme from the Rocky movies.
Each band member was doing their part, each playing the song passionately, with a force that couldn't be named.
Even though they sounded great, all truly sounding as an army of one...
The part that impressed me the most wasn't their playing, nor their marching...
It was the drum major, the male at the front, who so led the group around the field, his chin held up proudly even as he passed us football players. Now that I could see him from a closer distance, I could see just how different he was from I.
He was much shorter then I was, with a thinly built frame... it had seemed like the fingers that loosely but expertly clenched upon the baton hadn't had a day's mark on them.
But, out of all the physical differences, there was still one major difference between the two of us.
He had passion. Passion that I so yearned for.
I ended up not catching the ball, and instead ran away from the scrimmage game we were playing. I took off my helmet and threw it to the ground, much to my coach and fellow player's astonishment.
"I quit." I had said gruffly, my face near emotionless, but my eyes determined. I was absolute, and everybody knew it. They didn't question any further as I stepped out onto the track, in front of the band major, who was silently marching towards me, back facing me.
I stood still, watching as he finally noticed me. Right before he would've ran right into me, he stopped the band with a few blows of his whistle. They finished off the song as they stood still, before falling quiet, each watching for what would happen next. Some even quietly whispered amongst each other. From the corner of my eye, I could see the football team carrying on with practice, each still a bit shocked.
The drum major turned his attention to me, his demeanor seemingly hostile. Seeing that I had made him angry from disturbing his practice gave me tingles. He looked me up and down, taking me all in. He stepped closer, trying to level his gaze with mine. I wordlessly watched him, for what he'd do next.
"Can I help you?" He asked, gritting his teeth, hands on his hips. To think that people got angry like this, for something as small as disturbing band practice. Now that I could see him better, I noticed the light features in his face. His cheeks were a little round, but complimented his face and body all the while. His earnest, dark blue eyes flashed when the cloud moved from the sun, making it brighter for him. He winced, and I tried not to laugh.
"I want to join band." I stood tall, my shoulders straight and forward, my eyes glued to his. He gave an exasperated gasp in surprise, replacing the anger he once held.
The other band members, upon hearing what I said, started to laugh.