Hello! Thank you all for the reviews, PM's, ect... I'm sorry I haven't been able to answer back lately; things have gotten so chaotic I'm hardly able to find time to check my email! Thank you all for being patient!

REQUEST!!!: If anyone is/knows a drum corps member, current or otherwise, who is interesting in helping with the edit of "Hearts Of Glass" for publishing, please let me know. I'm starting on the edit of the novel to take everything a step further for publishing. I want the details of a drum corps novel to be as accurate as possible to what a real drum corps would act like, ect... So, if anyone is interesting who has corps experience, that would be helpful. Sadly, this is not a service that will recieve financial gratitude. Thank you!


New Instructors

"Would all corps members report to the cafeteria?" said a voice over the speakers outside the dorm room, waking Laura up. "All corps members, report to the cafeteria."

Her mouth felt dry and, trying to move her tongue around, Laura opened her eyes. At first she had thought the voice was a part of her dream but, judging from the noise already coming from the hallway, it had been a real announcement. There were blinds drawn over the window, allowing no outdoor light to seep through into the room, the entire room dark except for the red blinking light of the smoke detector on the wall across from Laura's bunk. She couldn't see in the dark, but didn't know from where she was laying in a heap, tangled in her purple blanket, where the light switch was.

Afraid to get up for fear of stepping on something, Laura hissed into the dark.

"Jon? Jon, are you awake?"

There was no answer. Laura sat up slowly, remembering in the nick of time that there wasn't very much space between her head and where Jon's bunk was. Looking up to the bunk across from hers, she could tell that Chris was still sleeping, the big blob of blankets rising and falling with each breath. There was no one in the bed beneath Chris but it was obvious someone had been there during the course of the night because there was an open suitcase on the bed, the clothes ruffled through and laying haphazardly over the covers.

"Jon?"

Laura hit her hand on the bottom of the bunk and heard a snort from above. At least he was alive. Untangling herself from her blanket, Laura got up, her legs stiff because she had slept in her jeans. Stepping up onto the little ladder to peer over the railing at Jon, Laura snorted in laughter as she saw Jon drooling, curled up with his sports themed blanket, face smeared on his pillow. Nudging his shoulder, Laura woke him up.

"Hey, girl," Jon said, "Whad ya want? Do you know what time it is?"

"There was an announcement. We have to get up and go to the cafeteria."

"Breakfast?" Jon asked, looking significantly more awake with the thought of food.

"I don't know, but we have to get up."

Getting off the bunk ladder, Laura pulled up the shades, the morning sun letting in enough light that she could see the light switch was near the door. Yawning, Laura turned on the lights and heard Chris groan and pull the covers over his head. She dug through her suitcase for clothes, deciding on a clean pair of jeans and a baggy tee shirt. After getting dressed in the bathroom, making sure the door was locked twice, Laura found Chris still asleep. At least Jon was moving, just finishing changing as Laura walked in.

"We're going to have to be careful how we work the morning routine," Jon joked as he pulled on his shirt, Laura looking away and tossing her old clothes onto her bed.

"I don't know why I didn't get my own room," Laura said, sighing. "Do you know where the cafeteria is? I think we're going to be late."

"Your guess is as good as mine," Jon answered with a grin. "Once lazybones over there gets up, we'll search for it."


After Chris finally got up and dressed, the three trumpet players followed the crowd of fellow corps members through the hallways. Those who had gone to camp before and had stayed at this same university knew where they were going and Laura eventually found herself in a large, comfortable dining area where breakfast was being served.

"Did you ever stay up late enough to find out who our fourth roommate was?" Laura asked as she fell into line behind Jon, grabbing a cereal bowl. "I didn't wake up to hear him come in."

"You were pretty dead last night," Chris said, standing behind Laura. "I was up, but Jon fell asleep shortly after you did."

"So, who's the-"

Laura was cut off as Mr. Hamon's voice boomed across the cafeteria.

"All of you getting food, hurry it up and find a chair. We need to have a corps meeting."

Repressing a cringe, Laura did what their marching director said and found a chair by her section, Chris and Jon sitting on either side of her. Mr. Hamon stood on a chair in front of the room. Sitting a few tables away were the instructors plus a few people Laura had never seen before. One of them could have been Mr. Hamon's brother, the resemblance was so close. This man was sitting by Paul, the colorguard instructor, who seemed to be trying to carry on a conversation with the reluctant talker. He wasn't wearing sandals, like Hamon always was, but had sunglasses tucked into the collar of his shirt. He was slightly older than Mr. Hamon, however, and his eyes were darker. Rather tall and lanky, this man had slightly inverted shoulders, as if the joints were trying to touch one another, but as he sat up, waiting for Hamon's announcement, Laura could tell he was strong and wasn't a person to cross.

Another man, sitting next to Mr. Deleyney, had course blond hair, almost as if it had been dyed too many colors at one time. He seemed to be the youngest of the group of instructors, but was still older than the average corps member. Like Hamon and the man sitting across from him, he had a crisp bearing, his movements fluid. He was always moving, Laura noticed, his fingers tapping on the rim of his cereal bowl, his feet bouncing on the ground. He was fidgeting, which made Laura want to fidget and her fingers strayed over to her spoon, tapping her fingernails on the metal softly. He had green eyes, so bright Laura could tell they were green from across the room, and he was dressed as if it was going to be a hundred degrees outside, a light shirt, shorts, a hat, and a pair of marching shoes all he was wearing.

"Listen up," Mr. Hamon yelled, cutting through the noise. "Stop chewing for a few minutes and I'll introduce you to your instructors. You already know Mr. Deleyney, Paul, and myself. Like usual, if you have any concerns with the music, talk with Mr. Deleyney. If you have any concerns with the schedule, talk to me, and no one besides the guard should have any concerns to be taken up with Paul. Got it?"

There was a general agreement and Mr. Hamon continued on.

"This is Beau Leroux," Mr. Hamon said, gesturing to the man who looked like him. "He is the percussion instructor. He's going to be working with the battery and pit during camp. When he says jump, you ask how high, got it? Even if you're not a percussionist, listen to him. Beau has a lot of experience with corps and he's worked with The Knights as long as I have."

Beau waved his hand and scanned the tables. Laura felt his eyes scan over her table, pretty sure he had noticed her. She hadn't pinned up her hair and she wasn't wearing a sports bra, so she must have been an odd looking guy in his eyes.

"This right here is Adam," Mr. Hamon announced, the man with the sandy, odd looking hair waving. "He's a movement instructor and he's going to be helping me whip you all into shape. When he's not working with corps, he's a fitness coach, so don't try and pull anything on him because he'll know when you're lying about being hurt."

A few people muttered a hello before trying to stuff some breakfast in before Mr. Hamon started talking again. Mark started making conversation with Jake, who was sitting at the instructor's table. Jake was looking even more excited than he did yesterday, Laura thought, and his excitement this early in the morning made Laura's stomach queasy. Next to Jake was Thomas, who was sitting as still as a statue with about as much color in his face as one, pale and quiet like usual. He was wearing a thin shirt, too, and was dressed much like the other instructors at the table: ready for a long day of work. Laura tried not to look at him too long, just in case he would see her staring at him. Why was she upset with him again? Laura couldn't even remember the specifics. Something about him treating her too well. Feeling cruddy all of a sudden, Laura put down her spoon and balanced her chin on her hand, her elbow on the table.

"So, I'll let these guys say a few words later during practice," the marching instructor said, "and I'll turn this over to the executive director."

After some scattered applause and some laughter as Mr. Deleyney stood up on his chair just the marching instructor jumped off his chair and sat down, nearly knocking over Adam's breakfast. Mr. Hamon glowered and Adam, trying to get a few more laughs, hugged his cereal close.

"Veteran members will remember this pretty well, but for all you new Knights out there, this is how our typical day will go," Mr. Deleyney announced, trying to keep his balance and read off his clip board at the same time. "You'll wake up at six thirty, get ready and eat until eight, and then practice until noon in sectionals. After an hour of lunch, practice on the field, and dinner at five, we'll march until ten at night. You have an hour to do as you please after the last practice of the day and then lights out."

Laura found out her jaw was hanging and she quickly shut her mouth. She knew camp was going to be tough, but it sounded even more intimidating now than it did a few minutes ago. She could see Jon raise an eyebrow and hoped he wasn't as worried as she was. Angry at herself for being a wimp, Laura sat up straight and took her elbow off the table. She was going to be working just as hard as everyone else.

"You'll all be assigned a crew, too. You'll keep these jobs through the tour, too. I'll have a list posted on the bulletin board outside the housing area where your dorm numbers are posted."

Mr. Deleyney sat down, having an easier time of it than Mr. Hamon did, and the corps waited for Paul to stand up and make an announcement. Paul continued eating breakfast and, shrugging, everyone went back to their morning meal.

"How many times do you wanna bet Mr. Hamon says 'Got it?' before the end of the day?" Chris asked, making Laura snort in laughter. Jon started naming all the colors of the marshmallows in his cereal and the three trumpet players had a very nice conversation until Mr. Hamon, not risking standing on his chair again, stood and yelled over the din of scattered conversation that practice was to start in ten minutes and that all section leaders were to meet at the director's table.

"See you in a bit, Laura," Jon said, getting up and taking his cereal bowl with him. Laura nodded goodbye and hoped she wasn't supposed to be pretending to be a boy at the moment because the instructor Mr. Hamon had introduced first, Beau, was still looking at her. Laura noticed Chris was smirking and, after trying to ignore it, including getting up and putting her bowl away, Laura became too curious.

"What are you being so weird about?" Laura asked Chris, half joking.

"So, I thought you and the drum major had a thing," Chris answered, pushing his chair in, "I didn't know you were actually going steady with Jon."

"I'm not!" Laura exclaimed a little too loudly. "Jon isn't my boyfriend!"

A few people glanced over at her, startled. This was still an all male corps and, although there was nothing wrong with expressing one's feelings, having such an announcement spoken so loudly at breakfast was surprising. When they realized it was Laura, however, a few people snickered, causing Laura to blush.

"I'm not even involved with Thomas."

"Were you?"

"I think so, at one point."

"What do you mean you think so? You didn't even know?"

Laura shook her head as she joined the group of trumpet players that had gathered by the doorway, moving to let a group of percussionists slip by her. She had the opportunity to be more than friends with Thomas, sure, but she had always pushed him away, just like the other night.

"I won't make you talk about it anymore," Chris said, shrugging and clapping Laura on the back. "Not great talk for a group setting, anyway."

Laura raised an eyebrow, unsure of what to say, but didn't have to reply because Jon walked over with a smile on his face.

"Trumpets!" Jon yelled, trying to get everyone's attention, "We're going to be practicing in the choir room. All our instruments and music are already there. We take a left down the hallway, another left, and then the third door on the right. Got it?"

"If he's going to be as bad as Mr. Hamon with the 'got it' thing, let's say we push him off a chair," Chris joked, Laura not finding it remotely funny.


Sectionals went as usual, Jon occasionally messing up, Chris and Mark and a few other trumpet players helping their section leader along. Laura found herself getting very involved with the music. She had fallen in love with the show from the first time she heard it, but was beginning to like it more and more as time went on. She decided that the last part of the show was her favorite, when the Knight saves the princess from the dragon. The end was a minute and a half long fanfare, an explosion of sound, and by the end of sectionals Laura's ears ached.

After getting lunch, Laura scanned the crowd for Chris or Jon, unable to find them in the crowd of people. She felt stupid, standing there with her plate in front of the tables, the occasional eater glancing up at her over their tray of food.

"Laura, I would like you to come eat with us today," said Mr. Deleyney, coming up behind Laura and muttering in her ear. Laura jumped, nearly spilling her water, and nodded, following the musical instructor. She had no time to ask why because Mr. Deleyney had hurried her, Laura having to roll step carefully to prevent from knocking anything else over and ruining her lunch. She smiled nervously at the directors and tried to ignore Thomas' usual icy stare as Mr. Deleyney pulled out her chair for her. Laura sat down, relieved to be sitting close to Jake.

"Laura, I would like you to meet Beau and Adam," Mr. Deleyney said, sitting across from Laura.

"Hello," she said, trying to keep her voice under control. Why did she always have to get so nervous? "Pleased to meet you."

"You're the one we've heard so much about," Beau said, his voice surprisingly smooth. "I'm pleased to meet you, too. I've heard the story of how one of my best percussionists picked a fight with the wrong person."

Laura, concerned, looked to Mr. Deleyney for help. Beau, catching this glance, smiled and wiped his fingers on a paper napkin.

"I didn't mean anything by that, Ms. Harring," Beau said apologetically. "Matt always did cause trouble and I no doubt believe he received what he gave. Andrew isn't giving you a hard time?"

"No, sir, thank you," Laura said, trying to pierce a lettuce leaf with her salad fork. It was true. Andrew hadn't given her as much trouble as usual the past few months and she hoped it would stay that way.

Beau nodded and went back to eating. He was very elegant, the polite version of their marching instructor. Laura still didn't like the way he looked at her though, as if he could see right through her facade and right into the heart of all her worries and fears.

"Hi," Adam said lamely, taking the salt shaker Paul had passed to him. "I'm the movement instructor, like Mr. Hamon said earlier. I hope you like me now because you're not going to like me later."

"Why is that? I'm sure I'll like you just fine," Laura answered, amused.

"Because he works the hell out of newbies," Mr. Hamon said pointedly.

"I work the hell out of everyone," Adam answered, laughing. "So, Laura, I hope we can get along for now. You've marched before, right?"

"Of course. I was a drum major in my high school band."

"Nice. I'll make sure to pay attention to some of those snappy drum major movements you're going to show me this afternoon on the field, okay?"

Laura wasn't sure if Adam was being degrading or funny but was amazed that, the entire time they had been talking, he was shaking salt over his mashed potatoes. Paul, Jake, and Mr. Deleyney had noticed the excessive shaking and Adam, realizing they were looking at him in an odd way, laughed.

"When I march, I sweat. Salt is a great thing to stock up on!"

"That's not healthy," Mr. Deleyney said, Paul rolling his eyes and smiling wide.

Laura continued her conversations with the directors, trying to make light conversation with Mr. Deleyney and Jake. But, by the time lunch was over and people were getting ready to go to drill rehearsal, Laura had hardly eaten a bite.


Thank you very much for reading! If you couldn't tell, I'm going to be taking this chapter "section" in several different parts. I have the next chapter written out (this was actually longer, but too long for one chapter, so I cut it in half) and that will be posted soon. Thank you very much for reading and please leave me a review/comment or a concern (or a lead on a corps member/ex-member that would be willing to partake in accuracy detailing for "Hearts Of Glass.") Thank you to all of you who have also checked out the LiveJournal community and Facebook community for Hearts (both links available on my profile). Thank you!!!!!!!