Disclaimer: I only own the plot.

Desperate Colors

"We fell through the ice when we tried not to slip," The Freshman, Verve Pipe

Twenty five minutes and fifteen seconds since practice was over. Twenty five minutes since I had been called aside to be informed that I wouldn't be marching states. Twenty four minutes and ten seconds sine I had run out of the gym to hide the forming tears form the feigned concern of my guard mates. I knew they didn't care. I knew that the only thing they wanted was me off the guard so that I wouldn't bring them down anymore. So that I wouldn't be the screw-up that everyone had wasted their efforts on to produce absolutely nothing. So I stood out here in the freezing cold in a pair of gym shorts and the size too big Annandale gym shirt that made me look like a little kid in her older sister's high heels.

The icy October wind dried crystals on my face where the tears had fallen down only minutes before. I had known I was screwed the very first day when all the other rookies had known how to drop-spin and I, for some freakish reason, was incurably speed-spinning. So I had missed the first summer lessons before band camp. I was at Nationals for heaven's sakes! How the heck was I supposed to get from Pensacola, Florida to Annandale, Virginia with no car, no money, and no parental permission? They hadn't been mad, of course, but I could tell that I didn't belong.

Actually, hadn't my coach said the same thing? Me, a school figure skater, trying to do Colorguard? The idea seemed laughable. I had perfected thigh muscle and concentration and one person sports. The idea of doing something that required arm muscle, the ability to be still, and involve a team was so far from home base only me, who'd always been a little crazy, could think of it. It seemed that even without knowing me, the girls in Colorguard had made the same assessment. And while I had managed to fake it all through the season, it had not been enough to carry me to states. I had thought I could pull it off. I thought wrong.

"Waiting for a ride?" I didn't need to turn fully. I recognized Emily, one of the junior girls on the team. She was, unofficially, the best tosser, and had been one of the nicest people on guard to me. Emily also reminded me of my older sister, who had fled to California as soon as possible. I nodded, not wanting to talk to the other girl. I knew the older girl could drive, so I hoped that the junior would take in my silence and leave.

"You know, you still have three days until states. You could get back in if you tried." Emily said. So that was the purpose. A little fake inspirational speech, and I was supposed to go back in, turn myself back into the desperate struggle to catch the god-damned flag and be all smiles. I wasn't buying into that ploy again.

"If you need help, I could work with you." Emily tried again. Persistent wasn't she? Of course, they had all known that, probably the reason Emily had been sent rather then somebody else. Finally, I realized that unless I said something, Emily wouldn't go away.

"Maybe I don't want to march states." I said venomously. I could see Emily shift her weight.

"Okay, I'll just go then." I could sense the pauses in Emily's voice. When would they see that I wasn't Colorguard material? When would they see that I didn't think like them and what they would never give up, I would struggle to survive in? Then I looked over next to me. Propped up against the pillar was the fire flag from the closer. I knocked it over from its spot.

"I HATE YOU!" I shouted, "WHY COULDN'T YOU HAVE BEEN EASY? WHY COULDN'T YOU HAVE TRIED TO HELP ME? WHY DID YOU HAVE TO BE SO FUCKING IMMPOSSIBLE? WHY DID I BOTHER TO JOIN THIS HELL? WHY AM I EVEN HERE?" My knees caved as the tears fell back down, racking my body as the cold had done moments before. When the sniffling stopped, I wiped her tears. Then I grabbed the flag and threw it as far into the lawn as I could.

When instinct took over, I jogged over to the flag, picked it up and began to carry it into the band room. My footsteps echoed loudly in the silent halls. I slipped into the door and headed to where the flags were kept. Then I looked at the board.

Carpe Diem.

I bit her lip then looked at the high ceilings and the flag in my hands. I cleared a circle around me and sat down cross-legged with the flag across my lap. I closed my eyes and counted. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. I stood up. Eyes closed I began the closer. I just counted, letting the movements flow. I eyes opened when I got to the toss. I flicked my wrists, and…the flag clatter to the ground.

"DAMNIT!" I shouted in despair.

"You have to lift the flag above you." I looked to see Emily leaning at the doorway. Emily walked over to me and moved my arms. I caught the flag. I looked up at Emily.

"Sometimes you make mistakes. Sometimes something doesn't come easy. Sometimes it just takes a little longer to succeed, but that doesn't mean we hate you. It doesn't mean we want you to quit." I looked at her in confusion. How did she know?

"Meredith reminded us of that one meet, the one at Deep Run, the meet where you dropped the flag walking through the trumpets. She reminded us how you burst into tears at the end of the show and how badly you took it. She reminded us that you were at Nationals during summer practice. She reminded us that you were good at skating. Maybe you just don't remember how it is to have to start all over. But you keep judging yourself the way you do in skating. You're a freshman, a rookie; you're not supposed to be perfect. She told us that if any freshman quit this season, it would be you." I knew that a part of me should have been mad that Meredith had thought that I would be the first to give up. But it was true. And another part of me realized what Emily was trying to say. Trying to hold back the second bubbling up of tears I nodded. Emily smiled.

"Let's see that toss again."

I marched states that year. The extra work with Emily paid off. I marched states and we placed superior. I decided that I didn't hate Colorguard and continued to do it the next three years of high school. I never did forget that day, when ready to quit, Emily helped me. In my senior year, I had the privilege of teaching a freshman who had never shown any aptitude for any sport and whose gym teachers had written her off as hopeless. I waited until she was stuck so deep in the despair of failure that she was willing to accept a beam of light. I still keep in tough with her. She became captain of the Colorguard and was awarded for her achievements in guard.

She can't march and catch her flag

At band camp

But she's trying best you know

She won't give up though she sucks

Cuz for the first she's had friends

But they want to take her off because

She'll bring them down

So she cries to the answering machine

Please don't make me wait to go home tomorrow

Cuz I don't think I can make it through the night

You asked me for my best and so I gave it

But my best wasn't good enough for you

So please forgive me (1)

A/N: (1) This is the beginning to my own song. Do not use without my permission. This story is based on true facts. It is slightly altered and parts of it are completely fabricated. However, underneath the creative license, there is the true story of a member of Colorguard who thought that she was a screw-up and that nobody wanted her on the team. Emily is based off of a real person; a real person who realized what was going on and helped that little screw-up. I hope that every single person who has ever thought that they were a screw-up meets their Emily.