"Will all the bands and guests please take your seats? We are now ready to present the awards."

The announcer's voice was strong and professional. My five friends and I moved closer together with the rest of the Frost Marching Band. My left hand was clasping Ryan's hand and the circulation in my right hand was being cut off by Scarlet's grip. As we listened the ratings my whole body shook and I had to remind myself to breathe. A band's name was called followed by a rating. I didn't hear names very clearly. Just ratings.

"Excellent, Superior…"

Here I am. Here I am hand in hand with 220 people who have truly changed my life. Here I am in the middle of a Regional Bands of America Competition, a competition that some marching bands only dream of. I really love music. Not music the noun or marching band the sport or concert band the after school activity but music the abstract feeling. Music the part of my life that no one could ever take out of me.

"Excellent, Excellent, Good, Superior…"

Well, they could take me out of the music program but they couldn't take the person the music program has taught me to be out of me.

"George Washington: Excellent, Frost: Excellent…"

No, actually, I don't think they could even take me out of the music program.

"Superior, Good, Excellent, Superior…"

Wait? Did we just get an Excellent? We did that well? We got an Excellent?

"Good, Good, Excellent, Superior…"

We did well. We are Excellent. We placed Excellent onthe national scale.

"…Stonecroft, Locke, George Washington, Frost."

Frost? Frost What?

With tears her in eyes, Scarlet wrapped her arms around me. Over her shoulder I saw Andrew saluting us with a huge smile on his face. It was then that it hit me. We had made finals.

I fell into my bus seat with my uniform back in my hand still trying to accept what had just happened. McBride climbed onto the bus and addressed her speechless band.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she began slowly, "you placed eighth. One and a half points behind George Washington. The other six bands ahead of you all received Superiors. It is, however, astonishing that you are here in your fourth year of existence and have made finals."

That was all she said. The other finalist outside were cheered and chatting excitedly as they got back into their uniforms for a night of spectacular performances. The Frost musicians, however, sat on the bus trying to accept what had happen to them. We slowly put our black and gold uniforms back on zipping the feeling of success into our hearts and laced our Dinkles, tying our passion up tight so we could release it again on the field. As we made our way back to the stadium I picked up a program that was caught in the fence. My friends and I flipped through it looking for our school's name just to make sure wewere notdreaming. However, we never reached the list of schools.

"Pursuit," I whispered slowly, "noun. The act of striving. Excellence. Noun. The state, quality, or condition of excelling; superiority. The Pursuit of Excellence - the Bands of America motto."

"We are The Pursuit of Excellence," Scarlet whispered.

"Why are we whispering?" Jimmy asked whispered loudly.

"Jimmy!" Lola said hitting him. "You messed up the moment!"

I whipped the tears from my smiling face and stood up taller. This was not the time to get emotional with disbelief. We were marching in a Bands of America Regional Finals competition. And that was that. Wait. Let me say that again. We were marching in a Bands of America Regional Finals competiton. Wow.

"Come on you goofy band geeks! We have to get in line! We're up fifth!" Andrew said sprinting past us with is unbuttoned cape flying limply beside him.

I fell into my position in the line at six that evening waiting nervously for the single most nerve wracking experience of my marching band life. Well actually the second most nerve wracking experience if you count passing off my music freshmen year.The sun sunk below the New Jersey horizon as I blew warm air through my clarinet while waiting for our turn. The air became crisp withthe sense of accomplishment.With each passing band, we inched closer and closer to the artificial grass-covered football field. It suddenly didn't matter how well the other bands were doing. We were competing against ourselves more than anyone else. The main goal was to beat the score had received earlier.

The announcer's voice that boomed over the loud speaker was even more intimidating than the morning.

Frost High School, you may take the field in competition…

And the band was off. My heart was pounding faster and faster and faster until suddenly it stopped. The show had ended.I stood at attention taking in the moment as the sweat dripped down my forehead and onto my cheeks. The crowd was on its feet. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Andrew smiling from ear to ear as he saluted them.

"There's nothing like seeing a band so happy with their performance at their very first regional Bands of America competition," a field judge said off hand.

I looked at him puzzled wondering how he could have known it was our first competition. As if he read my mind, he spoke again. "Not every four-year-old band that shows up with such little experience, makes finals, and then performs like they own the place. Of course I always knew you had it in you. That's why I dragged Mrs. McBride into this."

It was the judge that believed it us! However, I didn't say anything back because I didn't think the field judges were supposed to be talking to us on the field like that.But there was no time to dwell on that. The head snare drum clicked and I began to march off the field in step with Jimmy. "Shit, they like us! They really like us!" he whispered. The tears were mixing in with the sweat on my face as the band circled around McBride for comments. With tears in her eyes, she addressed her band. Or at least she tried to.

"That was… That was… unbelievable. Just… Just unbelievable. I am so proud of all of you. I can't even put into words how amazing that truly was. It was… amazing… It means so much… In all my 45 years of teaching… I love you all. Don't let anyone tell you that this isn't worth it. All your hard work has come to this amazing accomplishment. No. You know what? It's not even about this amazing accomplishment. It is just about what spectacular people you are to have stuck with playing an instrument since 5th grade. Not everyone can do that. Not everyone has the passion, the pride, or the will-power to stay with something this hard for this long. You are wonderful. Simply wonderful."

The band was stone silent.Again.This was the first competitionthat including so many moment that actually leftus speechless. But it was the first time we had ever heard all those words of praise in one speech. Mrs. McBride did not tell us how wonderful we were every day of the week. It was a rare and exciting thing when she did. But of course the moment couldn't last forever. To no one surprise, Jimmy was the one to break the silence.

"I love you guys!" he said exaggerating his enthusiasm and hugged Sean who was looking a little uneasy from all the attention.

As the last band marched off the field, Frost broke up to go freshen up in the bathroom before awards began. My five friends and I went in search of water. As we stood in line, Jimmy pointed out that McBride had only been teaching for 35 years.

"I think after 20 years of teaching high school marching band, you start to lose count," Lola suggested.

"Hey! Frost people! Congrats on making finals and your first BOA competition!" a girl dresses in a Stonecroft uniform said suddenly. "How was your performance tonight? You did wonderfully this morning!"

We shook hands with the girl from the school that had seen the finals of a BOA competition for the past six years. She told us her name was Madison. Her long, straight, black hair hung just past her shoulders as she spoke wildly about her past experiences. The atmosphere seemed to fit her like a glove. I felt a little out of place, a rookie in the competitive world of marching band, as I listened.

"I could probably predict the outcome of this competition," she said as another Stonecroft marcher came to join her.

"New friends?" the new girl asked. "Hey, I'm Shana. Madison's right, Locke is going to win."

"They didn't have a tree," Jimmy observed.

"So? We had a tree," Shana told him.

"Yah a lot of bands had trees andmost of themmade finals," I explained. "We think that's the secret to winning – having a tree in the show."

We all laughed. "That could be it," Madison said. "Locke wins everything though. We're both from Connecticut and they always win states. We come in second by a point or two every year. And after states we met up a regional. This is our first time at Rutgers though."

"We think we're cursed," Shana added sarcastically. "Or something weird is going on over there at Locke High School."

"Are they not nice to you?" Scarlet wanted to know.

"What? No! They are wonderful! They just win everything. And we'd like, just once, to come home with a bigger trophy than them," Madison said sincerely.

"But you guys have a tree," Jimmy pointed out again.

"Will all bands please return to the stadium? We are about to begin our final award ceremony," the announcer's voiced thundered over the loud speaker.

"Well it was very nice meeting you too," I told the girls as I shook hands with Madison. "Best of luck to tonight. We'll be cheering for you over Locke High School."

"Thank you very much," she responded with a smile. "And keepup the good work.I hopeyour band continues to be the subject of conversation in the press box as it was tonight. The Frost Marching Band is going places."

I recognized a spirit in her from someone that I knew. I just couldn't place my finger on whom, exactly, it was. The girls left to join their band and I faced my five friends without anything to say. There was no time for reassuring comments or words of wisdom. What's doneis done. Scarlet and Lola gave me quick hugs as the each boy laced his fingers through his girlfriend's fingers. It was as good a time as any to have someone to hold on to. We were all winners. Every single band there was a winner. Even the ones that had not made finals were winners. That fact that they had worked so hard just to get here was a triumph worth acknowledging. But no matter how many times I reminded myself of that or repeat the motto of the pursuit of excellence in my head, it did not suppress the butterflies in my stomach. Dressed head to toe in the uniform that defined our band geekness, we marched back into the stadium.

A/N: Here's a nice long chapter for you guys. Sorry it took me so long. I just kept coming up with more ideas. Plus, I am well into anotherstory. I have also decided to write a sequel to this one. I think I'm going to call it 'Is Your Band Ready?' But I do not have a solid storyline for it yet. But all the main characters will be back! :) This story will, sadly, only have one more chapter.(UnlessI get really excited and drown it out a little more...but that probably won't happen.)However, I will run a chapter of author's notes in addition to the final chapter because this story ended up having a lot more truth to it than I had originally intended. Especially with Bands of America. Also, many of you are asking questions about the actual Rutgers competition in your comments so I will do my best to answer them then. Thank you all very much for your comments. I appreciate the encouragement! Until next chapter! :)