Hi, everyone! Wow, so, after last chapter, I have one vote for Thomas, one for Jon, and one for Matt on who sent the letter... Hehe. This is so much fun to write! I just love this story... I was thinking about this story the other night when I was getting ready for a football game to start and I realized I filled three or four notebook pages full of ideas on what is going to happen before the end! I have the end planned out, too, but I can't say anything specific. Sorry! The end is going to be a long way off, though, because we're just approaching Christmas and we need to go all the way to the end of August for the story to be complete. Watch for sequel ideas, too! I'm going to try and write one if this story goes well! Thanks for all the amazing reviews! This is the most reviews I've gotten for a story before and I smile! Plot bunnies are great things to have.

I also apologize for the misspelled words in the previous chapter and every other chapter! If something doesn't make sense, please tell me and I'll fix it or explain it! I love all the great reviews! Thanks so much to everyone who have taken the time to write to me; I'm so happy this story is so thought provoking!

Enjoy!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Addressing The Corps

The auditorium was fairly quiet, most of the boys talking in whispers. They didn't know what they had done to deserve another meeting in the theater and the section leaders were beginning to get anxious. They had not been told what this was about, which was the usual way of things. After the fight, no one had needed to be told what the meeting was about, but Mr. Deleyney always made sure to keep the section leaders in the loop.

Andrew sat in his chair with his head bowed, snapping at any percussionists who tried to talk with him. Matt wasn't far away, his followers from the trumpet section gathered around him. Jon and Laura sat together a few seats away from the rest of the trumpets, Jon's following whispering support to Laura and their unofficial section leader. They considered Jon more of a leader than Matt after what had happened on the field. Thomas stood on the stage, arms folded across his chest, chin up as his icy eyes swept the theater, daring anyone to speak up and ask him what this was about. He wouldn't be able to answer, because he didn't know himself.

As soon as the corps members arrived for their evening practice, they had been directed into the theater, Mr. Hamon pulling Jake away from the group as Mr. Deleyney and the color guard director ignored the many questions that came from the boys. Thomas had demanded to know what was going on, but Mr. Deleyney had shook his head, placing an understanding hand on his shoulder.

"Thomas, you'll find out soon enough. Is there anything you would like to tell me?"

The assistant major had been puzzled by this statement, biting back the words he wanted to say. He wanted to tell Mr. Deleyney there was something he wanted to say, indeed, and that was to ask him what the hell was going on. Thomas had followed his orders to wait on the stage and keep the corps in line until the moment directors and his fellow major came back.

That moment was now.

Mr. Hamon walked down the steps and left silence in his wake, the first rows before the stage falling quiet as the marching director jumped onto the stage and brandished a letter.

"Does anyone know what this is?" he asked, his voice booming. "Someone tell me!"

No one spoke, looking around the theater to see who else was going to risk getting attacked by the marching director if they were to offer an answer.

"First Snare!" snapped Mr. Hamon, pointing to Andrew, who had snapped his head up at hearing his position called. "Tell me what I hold!"

"A letter," Andrew said, loud enough to carry across the room. "It's a letter, sir."

"And how do you know that?"

"I guessed."

"Good guess," the director said venomously, ignoring as Mr. Deleyney, Paul, and Jake entered the theater and walked to the stage. "Lets see if you can get two in a row. Who is this letter from?"

"Your mother!" said one younger boy from the back, causing a few snickers. Mr. Hamon's face turned an interesting color of purple as he ordered the boy to give him forty push ups. The boy, knowing the marching director had saw him, got down on the steps and did his punishment, the joke still worth it.

"Just answer Mr. Hamon's question, someone, please?" Mr. Deleyney asked, raising his eyebrows and shrugging his shoulders. Matt raised his hand and the music director nodded his approval to speak.

"It's a letter from headquarters."

The two directors on the stage exchanged quick glances and Thomas looked questioningly to Jake for an answer to what was going on. Jake simply shook his head sadly and walked to the other end of the stage where Thomas couldn't ask him anything or even look at him. Thomas felt a snarl rise, but forced it down, unwilling to pick a fight with the other major in front of everyone. Especially when something so curious was going on.

"How did you know that, First Soprano?"

"I can see the seal on the corner of the paper," Matt answered, shrugging.

"You have good eyesight, then, because I can hardly see it and it's right in front of me," Mr. Hamon said, shaking his head. "Yes, it's from the headquarters. Does anyone know why?"

Jon raised his hand, causing Laura to frown. Why would Jon know about anything that came straight from headquarters? He was Fourth Soprano, not even a section leader. It was something for Thomas to know about, Laura looking down to where the major stood on the stage, looking displeased. It didn't seem Thomas knew about the letter at all.

"It's about Laura," Jon answered, causing Laura to catch her breath. The rest of the corps looked expectantly at the marching director, knowing full well what it meant if anyone found out about Laura.

Mr. Hamon slowly nodded his head, pressing his lips together. Thomas' eyes grew wide as the corps started talking wildly, several of them sending angry looks toward Laura, several whispering support to her. She grabbed Jon's arm and Jon bit his own lip, sighing.

"Tell me, Fourth Soprano, why you know it's about Laura?"

"Because it's always about Laura!" Matt snapped, standing up in his seat, pointing at her. Laura dug her nails into Jon's arm and he squirmed, trying to loosen her grip just a little so the blood could still circulate. "Ever since this season started, it's been about Laura! I'm sick of it! She needs to leave! She needs to go home! Let her go home to that marching band of hers, the one she said she's drum major of. If she's so good, she doesn't need to be here!"

Matt's followers stood and clapped, Andrew agreeing and working himself into a lather by making the rest of the percussion stand and clap, too. Laura could have cried and screamed at the same time, but did nothing except cling to Jon, who seemed on the edge of jumping out of his seat and punching Matt in his smarmy mouth. Laura could hardly think the thoughts that ran through her mind: someone had tried to turn her in. Someone had put everything on the line in order to get rid of her. Like Mr. Deleyney had said, some boys loved this corps enough to destroy it if she was going to stay. With panicked eyes, she sought out Thomas, who had marched to where Jake was standing on the other end of the stage. He was in a heated discussion with the Head Major and it seemed he was trying to hold his ground in a battle he was going to lose. Mr. Hamon jumped off the stage after Mr. Deleyney and the color guard instructor tried to bring order to the theater, jumping onto the tops of the front row seats. His balance was amazing because he managed to keep his usual appearance of an unforgiving wall of steel and whistle the loudest whistle Laura had ever heard a human make with just his fingers and mouth.

"Listen UP!"

Andrew and the percussionists sat down, their cheering over with, and Matt's followers sat down one by one, leaving Matt by himself in the middle of the theater, facing Mr. Hamon.

"What has gotten into this corps?" the marching director asked. "I'm sick of this. There have been nothing but problems ever since the season began and I think you all know that. In fact, I know you know it! What do we need to do, hire more instructors? Ask for more volunteers to keep an eye on you? Schedule more practice, less practice, no practice at all? What is going to happen to bring the old corps back? Who is going to have to leave?"

Mr. Hamon's words sunk into the minds of everyone listening and Laura felt tears come to her eyes. She knew he was talking about her. She knew she was going to get kicked out after all. At least she had been lucky enough to know Thomas and to talk with Mr. Deleyney and find such a good friend as Jon was. Just as she made to stand up and walk out, showing the corps that she had gave up and they had finally won, Jon pulled her down.

"Laura needs to leave!" Matt yelled, stomping his foot. "She is-"

"What, she's causing all the problems?" Mr. Hamon asked, jumping down from the seats and walking up the aisle that separated section from section, enemy from enemy, Laura from Matt. "She needs to leave?"

"Yes!" the section leader answered, his voice hurting Laura's ears.

"What do you say we kick someone out?" Mr. Hamon asked, addressing the whole corps. He reached down and seized Laura's arm, pulling her out of her seat. Laura kicked and tried to scratch at him, alarmed, hardly able to see through her tears of anger and fear. Mr. Hamon held her arm asked again, "What do you say someone leaves?"

Matt and his followers, along with several percussionists, cheered and taunted Laura while many of her supporters, including Jon, stood and disagreed, the level of excitement rising to a climax in the theater. Laura would always remember the look of horror on Mr. Deleyney's face, the intense glare on the color guard instructor's face, Jake's gasp that seemed to cut through the noise around her, and Thomas. Thomas stood there and did nothing. He didn't say a single word. He didn't even look shocked or surprised or angry or ecstatic. He stood there, his arms crossed, the ice wall well in place around him. Laura considered crying out and pleading with the instructors and majors on the stage to save her, and part of her wanted Jon to attack Mr. Hamon for doing this to her. The noise was too much and Laura was starting to feel sick and weak, her legs shaking.

"You are now dismissed from The Knights Drum and Bugle Corps-"

Laura squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself, fighting the dizziness that came over her.

"-First Soprano Trumpet. Matt, gather your things and turn in your uniform. You are stripped of your title of Knight."

The room spun as Mr. Hamon pulled Laura close and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, the gesture protective than affectionate. He pointed at Matt, who stood dumbfounded, mouth gaping open. There was a collective gasp throughout the theater and nothing could be heard besides Laura's desperate gasps for air, trying to shove away the dizziness that threatened to take this moment away from her. She saw Matt look to Mr. Deleyney, who was still on the stage, for confirmation of this fact, to see if Mr. Hamon was bluffing. Mr. Deleyney held his breath and, after several tense seconds, nodded his head, pointing toward the door.

Matt was no longer a Knight.

He walked toward Laura and Mr. Hamon as though moving through water, slowly approaching. She could feel Mr. Hamon's grip tighten on her shoulder as he pulled her closer still, blocking her with most of his body as he took a step forward, protecting her from any wrath Matt still had in him.

"I apologize and ask for my title back."

"Apology noted and dismissed. Request denied. You are now to leave the premises and fail to report to practice. Leave."

Matt narrowed his eyes and took one step forward, a challenge. Mr. Hamon didn't bat an eye.

"Now."

With that, he stomped up the stairs to the theater doors, which he then slammed behind him. The auditorium was silent. No one, not even the members who had been with The Knights since they reached the audition age, had seen a section leader dismissed, and the directors themselves had never dismissed a member like that. Never. Mr. Hamon, realizing his protective grip on Laura was unnecessary now that the threat was gone, let Laura go and she felt herself falling toward the carpet. Jon caught her shoulder and Laura heard her wrist snap under her weight as she caught herself. There was a sharp pain and then nothing but numbness. The marching director made his way down to the stage and whispered a few short words in the music director's ear, Mr. Deleyney nodding.

"This is enough," Mr. Hamon said, his voice strong and commanding, yet quiet, a quiet that was unsettling. "If this continues, there will be no more Knights. Future generations of marchers will not have The Knights to turn to because we're not going to be here. If we're not here because we couldn't work together or because the cooperation abandons us, I don't know yet. What is it going to be, though? Are we going to fall apart, get kicked out, or rise above all the issues and come back for a first place win? Because of this letter," Mr. Hamon showed the letter one more time, picking it up from the stage floor where he had dropped it while jumping on top of the seats, "We are being watched. The Knights is working under growing suspicion. Now, they either find out we have a girl in the corps and kick us out of the association for breaking rules, or we lose our funding and have to disband because of lack of money. One is permanent, one is temporary. Which is it going to be?"

"Neither," said Jon, "Because they are not going to find out. We're going to stick together."

Jon's mellow voice, though strained, echoed through the theater, causing Mr. Deleyney to smile.

"That was the answer we were looking for," Mr. Deleyney said, his smile growing wide. "That was it."

"Now, I'm appointing a new section leader for the trumpets. Second Soprano, you will take control of the trumpets," Mr. Hamon announced, much to Laura's surprize.

A young man stood up to scattered applause, shaking his head.

"No, Mr. Hamon, I'm not going to be a section leader. I choose to remain Second Soprano."

Whispers sprung up among the corps; no one had ever turned down a leadership position, either, in all the corps member's memories. The directors raised their eyebrows.

"Is that what you want?" the music director asked, accepting the young man's choice. Second Soprano nodded and sat down, a smile on his face.

"Third Soprano, please stand," Mr. Hamon said, "And please tell me you're accepting."

Third Soprano stood up, but declined the new position, smiling at Second Soprano and then to Jon. With Matt gone and the two previous musicians declining, Jon was next to be section leader.

"Fourth Soprano, will you stand up and accept the position of Section Leader?"

Jon shook his head, causing Tyler to groan and put his head in his hand, walking to the back of the stage.

"I won't stand up and leave Laura on the ground," Jon said, "But I will accept the position of Section Leader. I thank the corps for this honor and hope for the trumpet's blessing."

These were traditional words in The Knights when accepting any sort of power position, substituting the appropriate section name. The trumpet players that had cheered Matt's dismissal clapped and hollered, one of them helping Jon lift Laura to her feet. Laura could feel the ground under her feet move and she breathed slowly, knowing that she was going to have to stand up on her own or be considered weak by the other members, friend of a section leader or not. Laura pushed herself away and smiled at Jon, Jon smiling back. She massaged her wrist as Jon went down to the stage and shook the Head Major's hand, Jake clapping Jon on the back.

"Now that we have who wrote the letter taken care of-"

"What do you mean we have that taken care of?" Andrew asked, who had been forgotten. "We never figured that out."

"Matt wrote it and we dismissed him," Mr. Hamon said. "You have a problem with that?'

"Yeah," Andrew answered, "Because he didn't write it. I did."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I love doing that... I'm sorry about the little mini-cliffhanger there, but I figured I needed to stop here before the chapter became too long winded and boring. Thanks so much for reading and I've had so much fun so far writing this! I didn't even know I was going to dismiss Matt until I wrote it! I just throw curves in there I never thought about! Thanks for reading and tell me what you think! Thanks!