"Stop right now, thank you very much! I need somebody with a human touch..."

"Nrg!" A sleepy hand flailed out to slam the snooze button. "Andie, you have the worst taste in alarm tones!"

"It got you up, didn't it?"

"Oh, you're one to talk! You're still wrapped in your blankets."

"But I'm conscious!" Blue eyes twinkled from under a fringe of blonde hair as Andrea sat up and shoved a bottle of Mountain Dew at her sleepy-eyed section leader.

Sharon made another unhappy noise, then twisted the cap and began to gulp the sweet, sticky soda, her nose wrinkling at the taste. Shaking her head, she gulped a few more times, then set the bottle aside and scraped her hair into a messy braid.

Andrea, having finished her own bottle of what Sharon had acidly termed "the world's most disgusting caffeine delivery system", was already dressed in the tank top and capris she would be wearing under her band overalls, and Sharon reached for her own clothing as the caffeine began to work at last and her eyes brightened with the thrill of competition.

Dawn was just starting to stain the horizon with rosy gold as the two girls settled into Andrea's car for the short drive to school. They wound up parked right next to Andy Flynn, who greeted them cheerfully, tugging Sharon's braid with a bright smile and clapping Andrea on the shoulder.

Sharon glared, but she couldn't hold the expression, and her face dissolved in smiles as she and Andy grinned at each other. She'd always liked him; despite his ability to get mixed up in truly unfortunate situations with his partner-in-crime Louie Provenza, he was otherwise levelheaded, and he'd always treated her kindly. (Except for that one time in junior year on the band bus with fruit punch, playing cards, and Peach-Os, but she'd forgiven him for that ages ago. Besides, it was only partly his fault.)

A shout broke her thoughts, and Sharon spun around to see Brenda waving at her from the crowd currently clustered near the four buses that would take them to Savannah and today's competition.

Andy waved her off with an easy grin, chatting cheerfully with Andrea, and Sharon ran to join Brenda. The majorette captain was already in uniform, warm-up jacket and pants covering her thin leotard, but her hair was loose, not yet twisted up into the hairsprayed French twist that capped off her competition uniform, and her hair-and-makeup box sat neatly beside her majorette bag on the sidewalk.

"Hey," Brenda said breathlessly. "Boy, am I glad to see you! Ugh, I barely slept last night."

Sharon slung her band duffel next to Brenda's, then eyed her flushed face and manic eyes critically. "Are you sure you slept at all?"

Brenda opened her mouth, presumably to make a scathing retort, and then shut it again. "No," she admitted grudgingly.

Sharon just shook her head. "Figures. You're not going to collapse on us, are you?"

"No." Shivering a little in the cool dawn air, Brenda pulled her warm-up jacket tighter around her. "Well, yes, but not until after the competition. Thank God Fritzy did the driving."

"Where is Fritz, anyway?"

"Oh, he's on the bus already – grabbing seats."

"Dare I hope he grabbed ours, too?"

"You dare indeed," said Fritz as he clattered down the bus steps, squeezing Sharon's shoulder briefly before he tugged Brenda to him and kissed her quickly. "Just look for my backpack, 'kay?"

"Thanks, babe." Brenda blew him a kiss, and with a wink, he vanished into the crowd.

"Come on." Brenda's fingers closed around Sharon's as the blonde tugged her toward the door. "Let's get settled. If I have to spend one more minute in this chaos, I'll scream."

Five minutes later, bags tucked neatly at their feet (and forming excellent footrests), they were safely in their seats, watching the madhouse outside the bus windows with amusement. A few seniors and a handful of juniors were already on board, but the bus was otherwise largely empty, and Sharon sent a silent thanks to Fritz – and to Brenda, who had saved them from jockeying through the narrow bus aisle when it was crowded with band members.

Without a word Brenda handed Sharon a pale yellow hair elastic; Sharon took the hint at once, her fingers twining Brenda's fair hair in a neat braid to keep it out of her face, and the other girl sighed in contentment.

"Are you ready?" Sharon's voice broke the quiet.

"Am I ever?" Her braid tied off, Brenda turned to face her friend. "But I'll give it everything I've got, anyhow. This is the first step to Nationals. Our Nationals. And we are going to get there if I have to die trying."

"All you can do is all you can do, and the rest will come out in the wash," said Sharon in perfect understanding, and Brenda smiled.

"Got it in one. And you? Are you ready, Miss Obedient?"

Grinning helplessly at the old nickname, Sharon giggled. "As ready as I ever could be – which isn't as much as I would like. But like you, I'll do the best I can, and that'll have to be enough."

Silently, Brenda reached out and squeezed her hand.

Sharon squeezed back, then reached for the DVD player and two pairs of headphones. "Ready?"

"Am I ever!" Brenda took hers – pink, of course – as Sharon tucked her own green buds in, and then curled her feet on the seat beside her.

Her cheek resting on Sharon's shoulder, she stifled a fit of giggles as the opening credits began to roll.


"Still as funny as the last time?"

Brenda just grinned, and Sharon smiled back. "Okay," she said, tossing her auburn braid over her shoulder, "we've got about twenty minutes before we have to get ready. What do you want to do?"

Brenda considered, listening to the quiet hum of the bus around her, and shook her head. "I'd kind of like to nap, if you don't mind," she said at last. "Just a few minutes of…"

"Of quiet, before the madness hits?"

"Exactly," said Brenda with a weary smile.

They fell into each other easily, Brenda curling up on the bench with her head resting on Sharon's shoulder as Sharon tucked a pillow behind her back and drew her own knees up. One heaving sigh, and Brenda drifted off, the soft puff of Sharon's breath in her hair soothing her into sleep – or at least a doze, before chaos erupted.


"Hey," murmured Sharon in her ear some fifteen minutes later. "We're five minutes out."

Rubbing sleep out of her eyes, Brenda sat up, hastily gulping down the remains of a Power-bar before she tucked headphones and water bottles away. If not exactly lively, she felt more refreshed than she had before her little catnap, and her mind began to hum as she made plans for her hair, for warm-ups, and for the competition ahead.

"Hey," said Brenda, nudging Sharon with an elbow. "Would you be willing to help me with my hair? Irene usually does it, but she has to help the others, and…"

"If you'll help with mine," Sharon responded instantly. "It shouldn't take nearly as long, a low bun will do just fine, but it always looks a mess when I try and do it on my own. I think Andie's helping the other clarinets with makeup, anyway, so I won't have anyone either."

"Perfect," said Brenda, tremendously relieved. "Can you do a French twist?"

Sharon just gave her A Look, and Brenda held up her hands in mock surrender.

"I suppose you'll want obscene amounts of glitter spray," said Sharon absently as the bus rolled to a halt and the bus came to attention.

"And I suppose you'll want none at all," shot back Brenda, though with no heat in her voice.

A small smile curled Sharon's mouth. "Well, maybe a little," she allowed, and Brenda clapped in glee. "And what about – "

"No."

Brenda pouted.

"Brenda, my hair is going to be invisible under a band cap. In what universe would rhinestones serve any purpose?"

"…you'd know they were there!"

"And?"

"…fine. No rhinestones."

"If I let you do cats-eye liquid liner, will you stop pouting?"

"…you know me too well."

A smug grin, from Sharon this time. "Damn straight."

They were still giggling helplessly when the band director climbed the bus steps.