A/N: Secrets! Drama! Hate! They're all present in this chapter! Hopefully I can get this story moving again.

Freezing air swirled around Patrick as he walked through the tunnel. He was currently under the school. There was a tunnel that started in the percussion storage closet in the band room. It was linked to the theater, under the stage, and it ran around the school, popping up in a few strategic locations. It made getting to class a snap. There was just one problem with the tunnel - it was underground, totally separate from the heating system of the school, and it happened to be January.

He reached a wall with a ladder built into it. He skillfully climbed, and shoved open the trap door. Percussion closet. Disaster. Drummers didn't organize. He slowly opened the door.

"Hi Patrick!"

Jen was sitting on a tall directors' chair. "What are you going to show me?"

"Get off the chair," he hissed. "I'm showing you another drumline secret." Jen trotted over.

"In the closet?"

"Yes. Actually, it's below the closet." He yanked her inside and shut the door. It was pitch black. "See that hole?" he whispered as her eyes adjusted to the dark. She nodded. "Follow me down - there's a ladder."

Jen shakily found the rungs of the ladder, and she carefully lowered herself down into the tunnel. "Are there lights, Patrick?" she whispered.

"Oh," he replied, and clapped twice. The tunnel burst into light, and Jen shrieked.

"IT'S A CLAPPER!" she yelled, and began to laugh loudly. Patrick grinned as her giggles echoed down the corridor.

"Okay, let's laugh later, we only have twenty minutes," he cut her off. She snorted, but successfully stopped. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all rough, and apparently concrete. There were bare light bulbs strung along the ceiling at six foot intervals. The tunnel itself was about 7 feet tall and five feet wide.

"This could use a redecoration," Jen muttered, glancing around. Patrick snorted.

"The tunnel gets you places. That's it. It's not supposed to be pretty. Follow me."

They walked in silence for a few moments. A few branches of the tunnel shot off to the left and right, but Patrick walked straight. They stopped at a door. "This gets you under the stage."

"Is there a map anywhere?" Jen asked, looking concerned. Patrick jumped.

"Shoot! Yeah, I'll get it to you when we finish. That might be helpful, right? Okay, now we're going right. He led her a few yards to the right where a ladder led up to another trap door. "Always listen before you open a trap door. This one leads to the catwalk stairway in the theater. If you open it, there is a spiral staircase going up to the catwalk. There is also a door that leads to the house of the theater." He led her away. "When I give you the map, I can show you more, but for now, stick to these two doors. I don't want you to get lost down here." They had reached the ladder. "Ladies first," he smiled. Jen grinned back at him and climbed up.

Back in the band room, Patrick sighed. "Are you ready for your first drum lesson tonight?"

"No. I have no idea what to expect," Jen confessed. He grinned.

"Don't worry about it. Everyone is horrible at the beginning. You already know how to read music, so Paul will probably go right into technique... Oh, one more thing. Hoffman will probably be a huge jerk for the next few weeks."

"Why?"

"Cincinnati is coming, Jen. In February."

"What?! We're going to Cincinnati?" she yelped.

"... Yeah, we have been since like last April. How could you have forgotten?" Patrick asked, staring at her like she was crazy.

"I don't know... but I should go to my locker," Jen muttered. "See ya." He watched her leave silently.

Sometimes I can't understand... he thought.

Patrick was right. Hoffman screamed and yelled. He insulted them. He even swore... while his CD recording was still running.

"I don't know what the hell you people are doing!" he roared after a not-so-good recording of "On a Scenic Drive."

"Want to get your hands on that tape?" Andrew muttered to Goofy at the end of rehearsal, who shook his head and nodded toward Patrick. "Kaylyn, clean this shit up," he snapped unexpectedly. Kaylyn shot him a look of pure loathing before scooping all of the sheet music into one arm, and trap table instruments into the other.

"I can't wait until I'm not a freshman and can disobey you without consequence," she snarled. Andrew had been aggravating her more than usual lately. The two stared nastily at each other until Ryan "accidentally" knocked Andrew off balance with the bass drum. Kaylyn wheeled around. Unfortunately, Mo was picking up the snare drum at the same time, and he whacked her in the face with it.

"Oh!" she yelped, and dropped everything.

"KAYLYN!" Andrew roared.

"Shut up!" she screamed, clutching her left eye.

"Sorry," Mo muttered, and walked off.

"Don't tell me to shut up! You just dropped all of the parts of all the songs! You probably broke some maraca or something! It will take a whole period to organize all of this!" Andrew yelled, marching over.

"Gee, it's my fault, now, is it? Maybe you should try being nicer so I wouldn't have stare at you, only to turn away and get hit in the face with a drum!"

"Andrew! Freshman girl drummer! PERCUSSION!" Hoffman yelled.

"Kaylyn dropped all the music and trap table instruments and is blaming me for it!" Andrew yelled back.

"Mo hit me in the face with the snare drum! What was I supposed to do?" Kaylyn whimpered, taking her hand away from her eye. "And he's the one who told me to clean it all up," she snapped, pointing at Andrew and squinting her reddening eye. Andrew threw his hands up in the air angrily.

"I want these pieces back in the correct folder and in score order by the beginning of tomorrow," Hoffman roared. "And if anything is broken, you're both paying for it. Go to the office and get some ice for that eye," he finished, gritting his teeth.

"Kaylyn, pick it up," Andrew ordered.

"I'm going to get ice. You pick it up." She marched off.

"Greg! Get over here!" Andrew yelled. Greg lumbered over, glaring. He wasn't fond of Andrew either, since Rothschild usual put him down in front of everyone. "Clean this up. I want it in the right folder, in score order." Rothschild walked away, and Greg stared after him, mouth open.

"Want some help?" Greg looked over to Jen and nodded. She knelt down to begin sorting. "Rough day in the percussion section, huh?"

"He's such a prick."

"If it makes you feel better, I don't like him either. Anyway, have I told you how adorable you and Tia are together? Honestly, you guys are the cutest couple ever."

Greg smiled. "Yea. But thanks."

Jen grinned. "Just thought I would take your mind off things. Don't worry about Andrew. Someday, someone will shove his fat head right up his butt. And then who will worry about him putting us down?"

Greg laughed. Kaylyn plodded into the theater, and sat down next to them, holding a pack of "crack-and-shake instant ice" over her eye. "I'll help. It's my fault."

"No. Don't think that way. Sure, you were a contributing factor. But if it weren't for Andrew, this would not have happened. Look, we already have 'The Chimes of Liberty' sorted."

"Thank you," she sighed, and stuffed the song into its folder.

"Don't worry about Andrew, Kaylyn. Someday, someone will shove his fat head right up his butt," Greg recited proudly. He and Jen burst out laughing while Kaylyn stared on.