Break. Ahh, the blessed time of exploring the area… almost getting lost on the way to the bathroom… successfully finding the way back… we watched Leigh practice their show, ooh-ing and ahh-ing at their guard as they rolled around (poor suckers) in the mud, expertly flipped rifles and drew pictures with the flags.
"It's all their drill." Jennie stated. I looked at her, worried.
"So? Even if it's just the guard, it looks really good. Better than us." I sighed, looking at our blue-jacketed guard goof off with the rest of our red-shirted Vikings, innocent of our worries.
"Their music stinks."
"I wouldn't say stinks…"
"It's not as good as ours, and they don't even have much of drill- look, they stand still half the time making pretty pictures while not killing each other. Smart!" Yedda broke in, annoyed. We were all painfully aware of the Flute Circle of Death, and the meshes, and the do-sa-do. Jealous of the Leigh band that seemed to achieve just as good results without the band committing suicide. It didn't seem fair.
"Oh well, look at their DM." She was wearing a black cape… our DM's burgundy cloak looked better. Dressed in a Roman costume with a broom-bristle plume on his helmet he looked… cool. Intimidating. Funny…
"My soda's finished" Yedda said. "Wanna go with me to throw away the can?" It was an unwritten rule in Lynbrook that you stay in a clump all the time, or at least in a pair. Otherwise, god knows what would happen to you… all those sousaphones and drummers running around…free. (jk, but it can get scary) We strolled past another band, doing their circle warmup. Their commands were different from ours, and it seemed so foreign that a friend seemed comforting. This is what we walk around in pairs for, I thought. So we wouldn't get lost and scared.
"Ooh, look at that flute! She's twirling it!" Yedda pointed out, and I looked up. And laughed. There was my Other-School counterpart, spinning her flute as comfortably as me, while she talked to her friend. So much like me that it was worrying: was everybody in our band just a stereotype? Was every band made up of the same groups of people, just with different faces and names? Was there a Loud Percussionist and a Cute Percussionist, a Perfect Flute, a Cow-crazed Flute, a Twirly Flute, a Cocky Freshman Trumpet? *Twilight Zone theme plays* Maybe…Freaked out, I followed Yasmin to the nearest trashcan and jogged back to the field.
Lunch was hamburgers this time. The other competitions, we had had Italian, Chinese and Mexican food, and weren't sure what to expect this time. American- we should have known. They also offered tomato soup, which was affectionately known as "That Red stuff". After we ate, some alto came around and showed us as he added soda, chips and mustard into the vile mixture, then offered us a dollar to eat a spoonful. We weren't sure whether valve oil/trombone spit had been previously added so we declined. No use in puking copiously before the comp.
After dinner we had a little more free time, during which we exclaimed over two of our seniors who had gone into the town and shaved their heads during the free time/lunch break. As I opened my present on the bus (a notebook… very cute, with a watercolor of a rose lying on some sheet music on the cover) my eye fell on the schedule. Flower Ceremony was next… what was that? I bounced back outside, grinning widely as Jennie mistook some random guy for our BD, and blushed painfully as she realized her mistake. The guy was very nice about it; he was some band parent, balding and tall, and did look a lot like our BD. Maybe he was used to it.
A/N: enough for now, I'm going insane what with school and auditions in a month… we have finals for 7 classes and band is the only one I'm worrying about. Typical idiot…
