First, I want to thank everyone for all of the great reviews. They really help. :)

Special thanks to:

doctorwhofan16, Quadplayer, a reader, and Elaine Kaelar.

Without further ado, chapter 9... (sorry in advance for the cliff hanger }:] )

Chapter 9

Reset.

"And if you are in need of extra help, come see me for tutorials after school today before the test tomorrow." Jason sat in algebra II, speedily and angrily taking notes. He was pissed about Josh and having to make up tests and things with Anna and all of the crap that currently filled his life. "Is anyone for sure going to come after school?" No one raised their hand. Jason didn't want to be the only one in the entire class who needed to come after school, just to fail the test the next day anyway. It'd be worse than being a nerd- he'd be a dumb nerd.

After classes, Jason headed to the drum room out of habit. Two hallways away, he could hear the sound of snares and tenors and the low rumble of bass drums. He smiled at the familiar hum of cadences and warm-ups and solos the reverberated through the tiled floors and walls. He walked down and was met with Josh trying to tap off the drumline to warm up.

"Josh, we don't warm up till three. It's only 2:45." Gabriella reminded him, annoyed.

"Well, too bad. We need to get whipped into shape. We might have a chance of being good it we spend more time on stuff like this." Jason took this as a tremendous insult and glared at him. "Oh, Jason. Hi. I'm sorry," The door opened behind Jason. "But this is a closed rehearsal. No non-drummers aloud."

Jason felt like a bomb was dropped on him. He was a drummer. No matter what the hell Josh said, he would always be a drummer. All eyes were on him. Would he leave? Fight back? Cuss him out?

"Josh, Jason is still part of this drumline. He is still a drummer." Mr. Ross came to the rescue from behind Jason, annoyed at Josh for trying to shoo his best drummer, and at Locke for assigning this guy as his new drum captain.

"No," Jason said, embarrassed and still glaring at Josh, who stopped smirking. "I was just leaving."

"Not turning out to be my best day." Jason whispered to himself as he headed to meet Anna at the vending machines.

Anna was buying a coke when he arrived, but she wasn't alone. Kelley and some new dude were with her. Jason recognized him as the captain of the football team, Brent (Or Brian, or Bob. Jason couldn't quiet remember very many people outside of his band friends). He also recognized her Anna's laugh. It was her flirting laugh that she'd used months ago when she was trying to get Jason to ask her out. And now, she was trying to do the same to Brent-Brian-Bob.

"Hey." Jason greeted awkwardly.

"Oh," Anna stopped laughing and turned to look at him. "Hey, Jase…"

There was a pregnant silence.

"You… wanted to see me?" Jason continued.

"Oh. Yeah. I just wanted to give you back these." She dug in her backpack until she found drumsticks that he'd left at her house last summer. She'd purposely kept them; they reminded her of Jason. But now, she'd moved on to Brent-Brian-Bob. Maybe she'd keep his football at her house. He took the drumsticks in his hand, their fingers brushing in the exchange. She pulled away quickly. "Come on, Brian," So his name was Brian. "I've gotta go get ready for band practice." Anna gave Jason a sad smile and walked away. Kelley came up and touched his arm.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," He stood, looking blankly at the vending machine. "Can I tell you something? You won't tell Anna?"

"Sure…" she replied cautiously.

"I left my sticks at her house on purpose. I wanted her to remember me."

"Jason, can I tell you something?" he nodded. "I already knew that." They both smiled and laughed.

"Okay, now. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure…" she replied cautiously again.

"Do you understand anything in Algebra II?" He asked hopelessly. She smiled.

"Yeah. Come on. I'll help you." She dragged him in the direction of the library.

"Thanks."

After learning all he needed to learn for the test the next day, Jason started walking home since he missed the bus and his parents wouldn't be able to pick him up till late. His backpack swung as he crutched his was across the street and passed the ninth grade center.

The band was practicing the first movement and as they made their way closer and closer to the drum break, Jason knew they'd be off time when they got there. Sure enough, twenty seconds later, the drumline halted and began the complex arrangement of strokes- not this one playing with that one and none of them playing with whichever one.

"CUT!" Mr. Locke screamed over the microphone. The head drum major blew her whistle and the band- more some people than others- halted, causing multiple train wrecks between sections. "Reset. Percussion: do not rush. Josh, watch your drum major. You should know at least these first sets by now. Do not get lost. One more time."

The sea of t-shirts and baseball caps became a less distinct figure than it had been ten seconds ago as every person rushed back to their sets and, like magic, every person found their first position, a perfect form coming from chaos. Jason noticed Josh: he was exhausted, panting and dragging his feet back to the set. Sweat dripped off his body from every angle and Maria and Gabriella were most disgusted by his extremely sweaty state. Jason smiled smugly to himself, and then realized he should feel sorry for Josh, which he (happily) did.

Mr. Ross walked over to where the percussion stood near the back sideline of the field in this particular set and talked to Josh. Jason continued his way home, which just so happened to pass right by where the rest of the drumline was waiting for the drum majors to call them to attention- and where Josh was getting a lecture.

"You've had just as long to learn the music as the rest of them. We sent it to you even a week before the rest of them got it! You should know this by now. By heart. Practice this ten hundred times to be able to play it by memory once. It doesn't do well to just practice; you have to practice correctly, with purpose, and paying attention to what you're doing." Ross' eyes shifted up to spot Jason as he was eavesdropping on his way home. "Jason," he called. Jason looked over, not expecting him to be dragged into this. Ross beckoned him over. The rest of the band had moved on to the next hold, but Josh, Mr. Ross, and Jason stood by the water bottles.

"Hello Mr. Ross. What's up?" Jason greeted, intentionally ignoring Josh. He'd never seen Ross this pissed. His face was red and he was sweating (this could have been from the heat, though).

"Jason, I need you to stay after school and help Josh learn his music and his sets and his role in the band." He looked at Josh, who was now flushed with embarrassment.

"Sure," Jason smiled, wanting an opportunity to get to know Josh. "How's tomorrow for you, Joshy?"

"It's going to take longer than one practice after school." Not trying to intentionally embarrass Josh or anything, but Ross knew that he needed help. "He needs to learn the warm ups, the tap offs, the show music, his sets, marching fundamentals for our school, and he needs to learn traditional grip." That was certainly a lot of stuff he didn't know.

"Wow. You don't know traditional?" He asked Josh.

He shook his head sadly. "We used matched grip in Alabama." Jason nodded.

"Jason, you in?" Mr. Ross asked.

The sound of "Reset, One more time" could be heard from the speakers while Jason contemplated the offer.

"Yeah. I'm in."'

"Great. Thanks. I'd do it myself, but I have private lessons and other things I have to do."

"Yeah, Mr. Ross. I get it. It's no problem, really." He smiled at Josh, who was looking scared about why Jason was smiling. "In fact, I'm looking forward to it."

Josh gulped.