A/N-Thanks to athena's guard, itsmariscul, Hottie12345k, JacokNortovc, Gen, Silvorfithrade, maria.boom.baby. and projectfreq91 for reviewing! Special thanks to itsmariscul, athena's guard, and Silvorfithrade for adding me and DYMM to their faves!

Thanks to Silvorfithrade, dutchesscourtney and fluteingaround for reviewing my DYMM one shot, 'The Honorary Trumpet'

Sorry for all the errors in the last chappie, I lost power twice writing it and so some stuff got cut out and such.

Chapter Thirteen-Beginnings Again

I've got that lefty curse,
Where everything I do is flipped and awkwardly reversed.
You're seldom known and barely missed.
I always put myself in destructive situations,
I need oxygen to be exposed where no one goes,
Where no one's been.
When it all comes crashing…

We've Got A Big Mess On Our Hands-The Academy Is...

I looked at the open, empty duffle bag on my bed and groaned. I had to pack for band camp (which conveniently we left for tomorrow), and I had yet to start. Every year the band went away to Camp Wiscosuta for two weeks. You could opt to go home for the weekend in between the two weeks, and over half the band did. This year, like last year, I was going to stay. I liked the camp-the cabins were pretty cool, the showers weren't disgusting, and the pool was open on weekends. It's a decent sized camp too, so when there's only thirty other people there on the weekends, it's pretty empty. I didn't mind that.

I finally decided to stop staring at the bag wishing it would just fill itself (it didn't), and pulled open a drawer. I threw in a few band member shirts, some indoor drumline shirts, shorts, and a few pairs of jeans and sweatpants. I packed in my pajamas and my Cavaliers hoodie. I made sure I had enough socks and my ever important sneakers. It would suck so much if I forgot those. Marching in flip-flops was not an option.

Packing was really boring. It was the only part I hated about band camp. I had friends in other schools that didn't go away for band camp-they marched out on a soccer field and had sectionals in hallways. And on rainy days they had to march in the gym. I hated gym marching. It was annoying, small, and the field hockey team or the cheerleaders normally kicked us out after an hour of practice.

I wrapped up all of the tech stuff that I needed, and carefully stuck it in between my clothes for padding. I turned off my iPod and put it on hold. I put it into the backpack that I was taking with me on the bus. I stuck a few magazines in my bag to prevent the downtime boredom. Yawning I grabbed my lesson books from my music stand and nearly tripped on my French horn. It was my grandmother's, and it was given to me on my thirteenth birthday. It was one of the few things of hers that I had, so I treasured the silver horn along with Walt. I knew how to play it fairly well; brass instruments just came naturally to me. I wasn't going to be taking that with me-the horn was too valuable to be taken to band camp, and it was really heavy.

After I finished throwing everything into my bag, I looked at my iPod for the time. I had been packing for nearly an hour. Packing was like gift wrapping to me-I hated it, I was terrible at it, and it was evil and boring. I decided I deserved a break, even though if I took one I would never finish. I grabbed my phone and called Rachel. Packing could wait.

Everyone gathered in the band room on Sunday evening. It was the day before band camp, and as tradition, we left the night before so everyone could get settled. It was rather tight in the small room with everyone, their instruments or equipment, and their luggage. Camp was over an hour away, and we had to leave by seven so we could get there at a decent time. As a section leader, I had to help with loading everything. It was not pretty. Many people were tired and a bit cranky, to say the least. Abby sat on a patch of grass near the parking lot, painting her nails and complaining. I had to restrain Sean from throwing his trombone at her several times. She may be annoying, but she's good. It drove me insane.

After helping a baritone push his instrument onto the truck and nearly avoiding getting crushed by a tuba-induced avalanche, all the instruments were finally loaded. We forcefully dragged the pit away from their instruments and made them board the bus first so they had no way of escape once the battery settled in and moved all their stuff around. I grabbed my own bag and stuffed into the undercarriage under the bus and stepped up onto the bus. The band normally got two buses-the drumline bus and the guard bus. The drumline was all on one bus and the guard took the other with the rest of the band filling in. With over eighty of us, we were quite backed. This year, however, the school decided to fork out a little more money for a third bus. I noticed most of the freshman going onto that bus. I was on the drumline bus as normal-they accepted me as their own because I marched bass drum in indoor. Rachel followed me onto the bus and plopped down next to me. We were near the back of the bus in front of the battery, since they claimed the back rows for themselves. After roll call, Coolidge gave the go-ahead to leave the parking lot. We let out a loud cheer as we pulled away from the school.

The bus ride was always really long and really loud. It was always loud with my friends from the battery, blaring their music from portable speakers. Rachel was happily bouncing in time to the music, causing me to hit the window on several occasions. I glared angrily at her but could stop laughing after watching her fall off of the seat. James was a few seats ahead of us, occasionally looking back and trying to catch my eye and start a conversation. Every time I turned up my iPod to something loud and pointed at my ear buds every time he tried to say something. Rude, yes, but what he had done to me in the past month and a half had been so much worse.

Band camp was always an exciting thing for me, even when I was a freshman and had no idea what I was getting into. The camp itself was fun and known for making friendships that lasted for years. I was still in touch with several graduated band members, and they would come to some of our competitions later in the year. It was like a big reunion for us, and we would terrify many freshmen with our massive tackle hugs. I looked out the window again and tried to tell where we were. No luck. There were just trees and trees and more trees. Every tree looked the same. It felt like we had been traveling down the same road forever. I rested my head on the window and before I knew it, I was asleep.

I woke up when I felt someone jump onto my seat. I bounced off the window and smacked my head on the metal bar keeping the window attached to the bus. I angrily cursed under my breath and turned to give Rachel a retaliatory poke only to find that it wasn't Rachel that had jumped. Who else could it be? James, of course, was sitting next to me with a sad look in his eyes. I looked around for Rachel and saw her sitting with one of the girls in the pit; apparently in deep conversation.

"If you wanted to wake me up, you could have just shaken me or something." I growled. James grinned that stupid loopy smile at me. "Yeah but jumping's more fun." I rolled my eyes. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to apologize to you."

"Yet again."

"Yeah…I screwed up again." James said. He was speaking as if everything he said as if it killed him to say it.

"Yes you did. I'll forgive you, but unless we are in marching band, stay away from me." I said, anger filling my eyes and my heart. I won't have a boy ruin my life. I'll ruin my own life, thank you very much! James looked pained, but he nodded.

"If you really feel that way, Syd, then fine." He said as he made to go back to his seat.

"James?" I called. He whipped around, a look of hope in his eyes. Ignoring it, I said, "Don't call me Syd." Defeated, he slouched back to his seat. Rachel sent me an odd look from behind me, and I shrugged in return, mouthing "It's nothing."

I was absorbed in my thoughts when I heard a loud cheer go through the bus. I could see the sign for Camp Wiscosuta go by as the bus turned into the parking lot. At least I could devote myself to the band for two weeks and not concentrate on James, the unwanted distraction. The bus parked and the doors open. I stood and stretched. Time to begin again at band camp.