So, I feel so guilty I'm not working on my homework! Gah... If I feel guilty I should do something about it. But, working on this story is so great! I just don't get it why I can't sit down and write an essay for a college class for a grade, but I can sit down and write a chapter of this... Mental thing? Oh, well... If I care about school enough, I'll get my work done! Until then, I'm going to work on my stories! Gah... You know what I realized? This has really been the only story I have updated since it's start. I have several other stories that I have not abandoned with anxious readers, but this is the only one I update...

If I ever get this thing published in book form (which I'm going to try to do if I like it enough at the end) I'm going to extend the chapters and maybe not have so many. They are going to be longer chapters with more depth to them... Just a thought... Am I too critical of my work?

Question #6: How Come Laura Is Such A Simple Character And Other Characters Have More Depth?: Believe it or not, this is a question from one of my very good friends who started reading this story a few weeks ago. She didn't like the way Laura was portrayed... Well, I think I write Laura as a "simple" character to balance all the drama and emotion coming from the other characters. She is the neutralizer of all the problems, even though she causes most of them! I want to make her look very calm and relaxed and simple until we get to spring training when I have a few ideas to add to her character. She is the inner calm of the corps... for now. So, I hope Laura doesn't seem to be a weak character, just a simple character. Don't worry, if you like it complex, that's what you might get later on in the story!

Onward!!! (I haven't heard any complaints about the length of my author's notes, so that's either good or bad: good that there have been no complaints, bad that there might not be more than one or two people reading them because they have gotten so long. Feedback fixes all, as I like to say!)

Weary Memories

When the corps came back for the next installment of the winter games, the storm had died down, leaving inches of thick, fluffy snow on the ground. There was no wind, but it was not warm, the overcast clouds heavy with the promise of more snow. The sun was hidden with no chance of coming out before nightfall. As the corps walked out to the football field to play a game of tag, Mr. Deleyney turned on the stadium lights, causing Laura to second guess her decision to stay inside.

She was watching the corps make their way to the field from one of the large windows in the doors to the college music department, fingers pressed against the glass. She had told Mr. Deleyney she was going to stay in because of her wrist, but that was only part of the truth. Her wrist really did ache in the bitter cold, but she was too proud to admit she was a little afraid of Andrew. Laura had thought long and hard about going outside for the corps games and replayed the scene during the snowball fight over and over again in her head. If that ice ball would have hit her, Laura could have been in more trouble than she would have been able to deal with. He could have broken her already weakened wrist if the ice ball would have reached it's target. He could have cost her another trip to the hospital. If her parents would have found out about the ice ball, Laura bet her father would have pulled her from the corps. But, even though those things had not happened, there was always the looming threat in her mind: Someone had tried to hurt her.

Jon turned and waved at her, catching her eye as he walked past the window to the field. Laura waved back and giggled as Jon tried to make a snowball out of the fluffy snow to toss at the window, the snowball falling apart in his hands. As he walked away with the rest of the boys, Laura felt mixed emotions brewing in her heart. She wanted to be out there with him, with her friend, her protector. Although Laura hated to admit it to herself, she was starting to rely on Jon to help her. After all the fuss and fight earlier about Jon being overprotective, Laura was submitting to her own need to be protected. It was frustrating in the fact Laura didn't want to be tied to someone for safety and friendship, but how could she pull herself out of the hole she found herself in when it came to Jon? He was her best friend and, even though they had had their problems, he would always be there for her. That was what a best friend was for. But where was that line between being there and always being there?

"Get your fingers off the glass, girl," snapped a janitor, walking by with his mop cart. "I just cleaned that!"

"Oh, sorry," Laura said, jumping away from the window and tucking her fingers into her pockets. "I was just- I just..."

"Why are you here?" the janitor continued, jingling the keys on his belt menacingly. Laura suspected he was considering making her leave unless she could come up with a good excuse.

"Um, class."

"There are no night classes offered at this college!"

"Except musical ones," Laura continued quickly. "My instructor should be here soon."

Laura looked around for anyone, anyone at all who she could drag into her lie. The janitor raised an eyebrow and Laura thanked the gods of music as she spotted Thomas exiting the theater.

"Thomas!" she called, running up to him and away from the janitor as fast as possible. "I was waiting for you so we could start our lesson!"

"What are you talking about?" Thomas hissed, trying to yank his hand away from hers before he spotted the janitor walking towards them.

"Are you really giving music lessons?" the man asked suspiciously. "The only thing going on tonight was more of those stupid boys-only marching lessons."

Laura could feel Thomas stiffen and she let go of his hand willingly, taking a step back. There was a sudden tension in the air and Laura bit her lip, hoping Thomas would keep his temper under control, reminding herself that he always had self discipline.

"I think you mean practice for the Knights Drum Corps, sir," Thomas said carefully, "And yes, I am giving lessons tonight. Laura is my only student of the evening, however, so there should be no one else to bother you. I apologize for my tardiness."

The last statement was directed at Laura and she apologized again to the janitor, who dubiously nodded and wheeled his mop cart away after pointedly wiping away the invisible fingerprints Laura had left on the glass door.

"If I see her wandering around alone, though, she's out of here!" the janitor called over his shoulder as he turned down a hallway. As soon as the janitor was out of earshot, Thomas dropped the polite smile and snarled.

"Don't make me do that again!"

"I- I'm sorry, I just didn't know what to do! You were the only person I could-"

"Now you have to stick with me the entire night or you're kicked out of the building if that janitor sees you alone. You can't go outside with the boys because then your cover as a boy is blown if he sees you! One little mistake like that could ruin all of it!"

Thomas stood over Laura, who had grown smaller the past few seconds Thomas had been yelling at her, head bowed. The drum major sighed and shook his head.

"Just stay with me and you'll be fine. Unfortunately, this is going to make things a little complicated for what I had to do tonight."

"What were you going to do?" Laura asked softly, afraid to set Thomas off again.

"I have to get a different uniform and you have to come with me."

Laura stood outside the storage room door, the room where the uniforms were kept during the winter before the tour buses and trailers were rented or brought out of the automotive shop at their home base. Looking around her, Laura felt more and more uncomfortable at being left alone. The walls were old and cracked, lines running through the cement. The storage room doors, about six or seven of them total, were wooden with chipping finish, a single elevator standing dormant in front of her. The floor under Laura's feet was made of brick red tiles, many of them cracked. It reminded Laura of her school's practice rooms and she tried to ignore the sounds of Thomas taking down containers and unzipping uniform bags.

"Thomas?" she asked hopefully.

"Yes?" came the answer several seconds later.

"Why do you need a new uniform?"

"Every year, we turn in our uniforms, regardless of the position we will hold next year. My old uniform fitted me much better last year than the uniform I was assigned this year. Mr. Hamon gave me his keys to this room to come back and get my old uniform."

"Oh, I see," Laura said, although she really didn't understand. She had not tried on her entire uniform yet, only parts of it at different times. She knew her jacket fit and her pants fit, but that was about it. "Why do you need to get your uniform now? Why not wait until spring?"

"It's better to take care of things like these as soon as possible than to put it off to spring training. Even if you were able to find a time to get a new uniform in the spring, you would be too tired to try it on. When it comes time for camp, believe me, you won't be able to move a finger without groaning."

"Is it that bad?"

"You'll find out. If you don't mind, I'm trying to concentrate."

Laura slid down the wall and sat on the ground, recalling the moment after she couldn't finish her push ups in front of the corps and had sat like this outside the theater, hating Thomas and what weaknesses he had exposed. Now, instead of hating Thomas, she was more frustrated with herself that she had caused this problem: she was stuck here until he could get his uniform fitted, keeping an eye out for the janitor. At this rate, maybe it would have been better to risk Andrew outside. Tired of the small scuffling sounds inside the storage room, Laura began to hum to herself, keeping her ears open for the sounds of the mop cart.

"Who's humming?" came a voice, the gruff voice of the janitor. Laura jumped to her feet and looked around her for an escape. There was only one hallway leading to the storage rooms and that was the hallway where the squeak of rusty wheels was growing louder. "Girl, are you back here? I told you I would-"

Angry rather than scared, Laura checked all the storage room doors, finding them locked. Why did she have to make so much noise? Why didn't she think about this earlier, that the janitor would be coming back here to use the elevator? Laura bet one of the storage rooms was actually a room made to keep the cleaning supplies. She could see the shadow of the janitor and his mop cart growing on the wall and Laura escaped into the only room that was unlocked, willing to face the wrath of the drum major than be caught alone by the janitor and getting kicked out of the building.

Laura sat in one of the corners of the room on a box of shoes, blushing and furious with herself. Thomas was standing in the middle of the room with his half his uniform on, the other half laid out in front of him as he straightened the plume on his hat. The janitor had never peeked in on them, Laura sighing in relief as she heard the mop cart being wheeled onto the elevator and the elevator doors shutting with a clang. Thomas had been startled when Laura had burst into the room, dropping the parts of the uniform he didn't have on yet; all she could do was hide in the corner and hope the janitor had not heard the storage room door click shut, locking behind her. She had sat there the past five minutes, face red, beating herself up inside for being so stupid. Why was it that trouble seemed to follow her?

"Why are you still here?"

Thomas' voice cut through her thoughts and she looked up, startled.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"I never said that. I asked why you were still here."

"Um, I don't want the janitor to come back down here and find me alone. Then he'll kick me out and- You were there, you heard him."

Thomas nodded and picking up his jacket and looking it over. Thomas had marching bibs on, the purest black she had ever seen. The shoes he wore reflected the light from the ceiling lamps, so bright Laura couldn't look at them long. The hat Thomas held was black with one end of the brim buckled to the side of the hat, a large, full plume falling from that buckle to reach the middle of Thomas' back when placed on his head. Gauntlets lay on a box next to him, black with purple and white trim with silver buttons. Laura suddenly had the urge to go and try on her own uniform, but stayed where she was, quiet as to not disturb Thomas any more than she had to.

Thomas pulled on the jacket and tried to reach behind him to zip it up, but flinched noticeably. Again, he tried and couldn't reach all the way to the zipper, biting his lip to keep back the obvious pain. Laura, who had been watching him, stood and walked to Thomas and zipped the jacket up for him, buttoning the top.

"You didn't have to do that," Thomas said, never looking at her as he put on the gauntlets and white gloves.

"I wanted to," Laura said, deciding that was a better answer than saying he couldn't and she had to help him. She guessed the bruise was still bothering him from last week. Sighing, she made to turn around, but Thomas did first and she had to catch her breath.

In front of her was the drum major she had seen from the stands, one of the reasons for joining the corps in the first place: to know more about the mysterious young man who had looked at her for only a moment. The jacket, the top purple, white, and black slanted stripes, was so crisp Laura was amazed she had touched it without ruining it. Silver clasps held two stripes together on the left shoulder and the black of the rest of the jacket matched the black on the gauntlets and pants perfectly. Thomas' eyes, always shifting colors, shone a bright blue and his skin was pale against the black of the uniform. Laura felt her knees shake and, as much as she tried to stop it, Laura couldn't look away. She was spellbound by the sheer power Thomas had at that moment. Watching her watching him, Thomas saluted and Laura gasped in happiness. After standing there for several seconds, Laura realized what a fool she must look like and turned away, forcing herself to sit down.

"What do you think?" Thomas asked, checking the uniform over. There was no mirror in the storage room and the drum major had to rely on her opinion as much as his own opinion. Laura was pretty sure Thomas already knew what she thought, judging by the blush, but muttered it was nice and fit well.

"It's mine, then," the drum major said, taking off the gauntlets and gloves. Laura rushed to him and undid the jacket before sitting back down in her corner. Thomas, pretending not to notice Laura had helped with the jacket, slipped it off and put it back on a hanger. As he took off the jacket, however, his shirt lifted enough for Laura to see the horrible bruise on his side. Her gasp of shock made Thomas stiffen and pull the shirt down as far as it would go to hide the awful wounds he hoped she had not seen.

"Thomas, your back," Laura said, horrified. "It's such a large bruise! How can you even move without being in pain?"

"It's not as bad as it looks," he said coldly, lying through his teeth. If he were to tell her the truth, it hurt every time he moved, but what would he gain by doing that? "It's not painful."

"Oh, Thomas," Laura sighed, shocked at the pity that came from her own voice. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be."

"But I am!"

Laura stood and walked to Thomas without knowing what she was doing, placing a hand on his shoulder. Thomas felt her fingers on his skin and pulled away.

"Do not touch me."

She backed away and Thomas felt a twinge of guilt.

"At least it was me and not you," he added, "And it doesn't hurt as much as the other scars I have."

Other scars. Other wounds. Things that had hurt him in the past that had gone away after leaving their mark on his body. There were scars on everyone, anything from chicken pox to falling off a bike. Thomas knew he wasn't the only one to bear scars from a parking lot brawl, but he was reminded of that night every time he saw them.

"I should leave," Laura muttered, stomping to the door and whipping it open. "I should leave before I do anything else stupid."

"Don't leave, Laura. I have something to tell you."

"If it's to snap at me anymore, I would rather go and meet back with the janitor," Laura hissed, not caring about what Thomas had to say. She couldn't believe she had led herself on to believe he would actually tolerate her. For all she knew, it could just be a trick to keep her there so the directors wouldn't find out he had snapped at her.

"If that is how you feel," Thomas answered, going back to putting away his uniform. He turned his back on her for the third time that evening and heard the click of the door as it shut. "I just needed to tell you how I felt."

How he felt... How much pain he was in after Mr. Deleyney had found him in the parking lot, laying in the snow, his own blood ruining the perfect white blanket that lay over the world.

"You're so perfect!" Matt yelled mockingly, "Mr. Drum Major! Everyone's leader! You need reality to hit you in the head and bring you back down to earth!"

Thomas just stood there, waiting for Matt to finish with his rant and walk away, like he had done so many times before. This wasn't anything new, being annoyed by Matt and his taunts. He had tried to goad him into a fight the week before and it hadn't worked. What made him think it was going to work this time?

"You're too perfect! Don't you agree, Andrew?"

"Leave me out of this, man!" answered Matt's friend, standing a few feet behind the trumpet player who was challenging the drum major.

"Matt, go home," Thomas said, voice impassive as he dug his car keys out of his pocket and turned to leave. "I'll see you tomorrow at practice."

"No, you're not turning your back on me! You're not backing down from this fight!"

"I'm not fighting with you, Matt, and that is final," Thomas retorted, starting to lose his patience. "If you would like to take the matter of my position in the corps to the directors, Mr. Deleyney and Mr. Hamon are still in the building."

"I'm not talking to those two idiots about this! I deserved the drum major position fair and square! You took it from me!"

Thomas continued to walk away, ignoring the distraught boy and his friend. Matt had done awful in drum major auditions, everyone had agreed. The corps had voted and the directors had had the final say. Matt had lost, Thomas had won. Thomas would therefore join Jake on the podium and Matt would continue to play trumpet. Andrew had not auditioned, merely supporting Matt in his quest to yank the position from Thomas.

Something hit him in the back, knocking the wind out of him. Thomas staggered and tried to stay standing as he fought to breathe. He felt fists hitting him all over, blood running from his nose. Something sharp went through his sweater and cut his back, not just one cut, but several of them. Thomas fell into darkness as a sharp pain shot through his head. He woke up as Mr. Hamon drove him to the hospital, laying in the backseat with Mr. Deleyney wiping the blood off his face.

Several stitches were needed to close several of the wounds, including one on his forehead. He was bruised all over and bloody, but nothing was broken. Matt and Andrew had been questioned and they admitted to taunting Thomas, but maintained they had not done anything more than that. No pocketknife had been found on either of them, but it was apparent Thomas had been attacked with one. There was no evidence to prove they had done it, no parking lot cameras to catch the crime, and there was someone who claimed they saw Matt at the local gas station around the same time as Thomas' attack. Mr. Hamon had called the witness a lier and tried to find a tie between the witness and Matt.

"Probably some uncle Matt had asked to back him up," Mr. Hamon said bitterly. "File a report against Matt! Make this a legal battle!"

Thomas, eighteen and therefore a legal adult, had not pursued the matter any farther, refusing to involve the police for fear that the corps would become involved and it would be found out that they were already in debt, a debt that would hurt their chances of ever getting ahead after Robert's accident. Thomas refused to take action, willing to deal with the aftermath of the fight by himself than risk getting the corps in trouble. As it was, this would be another black mark on the corps slate if word got back to the headquarters about the fight. They never found out.

Although it had been announced to the corps that Thomas was going to be fine and Matt and Andrew had not been the attackers, everyone knew it was them. They knew Matt had been angry at losing the drum major position, but would he really be mad enough to hurt Thomas? That was crazy. That was unthinkable. Matt wasn't the sort to actually follow through and hurt someone with more than words, much less a sharp blade. Andrew had been shaking and whimpering the entire time, letting Matt do all the talking. Their story was straight and, with the claim Matt had not been seen somewhere else at the time of the attack, it was put to rest. It was history.

All that was left were the scars.

Thomas sighed and finished putting away the bits of uniform, putting boxes back on shelves and making sure the room was as clean as it was before he came. Turning off the lights, Thomas left the room and walked straight into Laura, who was standing quietly, waiting for him. It was obvious she had felt bad about walking out on him, but pride had kept her from coming back in.

"I-" Laura began, but Thomas cut her off.

"No more apologizes. Just come with me."

Thomas walked beside Laura on the way back to the auditorium to wait for the rest of the corps to finish with their games.

"Thomas?" Laura asked as they entered the quiet theater, "I have a question."

"What would that be?"

"You remember the girl in the bleachers last summer, the one you looked at, right?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember what she looked like?"

"She looked like you."

There we are... I don't like this chapter, really... I worked for a few hours on it, and it just seemed that the topic was too big to fit into a chapter, almost. Gah... I just felt like now was the time to explain about that big parking lot fight. I'm going to go into detail about it later and explain more about how Matt and Andrew got away with it and why Thomas left it alone, but I just needed to get the general bit down before the readers killed me because I hadn't explained about it yet!

Thank you so much for reading and please tell me what you think! I just love hearing back from everyone! Thank you so much! I have a reader promising me fan art, so if you have any fan art, let me know about it! I have done a few illustrations for Hearts Of Glass myself so far, but it's always cool to see what other people see in the story! I'll talk to you all soon! Until then, I'll work on the story some more (hopefully get some homework done!) and explain the story a little more! Thank you!!!