7:55

PVHS's Band Room

"That took way too long," Ryan whispered to Blake, who was standing next to him against the whiteboard in the front of the room.

After waiting for the Pit to put all the backpacks and stuff back in their original spots and having the rest of the band come trooping in, Blake decided they had a major problem. It had become quite apparent within the first two minutes that some sections just didn't work well sitting next to each other.

Ryan had told the section leaders to make sure their sections sat together, just to get more "section bonding time" in, but he hadn't said anything about where each section sat. So, of course some sections immediately paired up. The piccolo and color guard girls were the first sections to sit near each other, which Ryan quickly separated after the first few seconds of girly high-pitched laughter.

Trumpets and trombones couldn't sit near each other due to some ancient rivalry that had never been solved, and the saxes / mellophones couldn't sit near the tubas, since Erik and Isaac always had to be at least 15 feet away from each other for anything to ever get done. Clarinets and alto saxes didn't work well together, and Drumline and Pit had a bad habit of chucking mallets at each other, so they were on different sides of the room under the strict eye of Blake.

"It's like solving a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle when you are missing the last piece," Ryan complained to Blake after ordering everybody to be quiet. "No matter what you due to find it, it's just lost, so all of your hard work is for nothing."

Blake nodded. "Ok, Band, listen up. For the sake of what is left of your Drum Major's sanity, please be quiet. We don't want him to go crazy on the first day, because then we'll have nothing to look forward to for the rest of the season. Oh, and until he or I says otherwise, the spots you are sitting in now are your permanent seats. Well, the general area that you are sitting in. Does that make any sense?"

"No," Ryan answered, stepping up onto the podium, stopping all the chatter that was happening within sections. "But don't worry, Blake. We love you anyways."

"We do until you tell us 'One more time!' for the first time," mellophone section leader, Tony, corrected Ryan. "Then we hate you."

"I'll keep that in mind," Blake told the senior, gesturing for Ryan to get off the podium. Standing up on it, the chattering that had gone on for the half second that no director had been on the podium stopped. "You'll learn to hate the phrase 'One more time!'" he told the freshmen. "But you have about an hour before you have to deal with that, judging by my clock, which is always right!" he added, glaring at a few upperclassmen.

"But, anyways, welcome to Band. I am Mark Blake, your director for marching band and during concert season, so you're stuck with me all year." Blake dodged a mallet thrown at him by Kyle. Ryan eagerly picked up and went over to where the section leader was sitting, hitting him on the head with the mallet before once again taking his spot behind the podium. "You'll also learn to know to never throw stuff at the person on the podium, because Ryan has some strange obsession with hitting people with stuff, as I'm sure his siblings can concur for."

Annie, Isaac, Erik, and Jake all nodded, grinning when their brother just glared at them mouthing "I'll get you tonight!"

"Focus," Blake instructed the Drum Major. "Ok, let's all focus…everybody ready? Good. Ok. You will never have another experience like marching band. Nowhere else will you be able to call 50 other people family, and in no other sport or club or anything at this school can you spend so much time with the same people. In band, you will get to know everybody else more then they probably want you too. You'll see everybody when they are at their worse, and more then likely, you'll help somebody over their problems. You'll also see everybody at their best, and I can guarantee you that band is the one club or sport or anything at this school that gives out the most hugs and kisses to everybody without them meaning anything. That's what band is. We're a family. We will spend so much time around each other, you'll probably get sick of everybody soon. You will sit on a bus for two hours with everybody, but for you freshmen, you'll automatically get to be friends with a lot of seniors. For the girls, you'll get a lot of protective older brothers, so warn anybody you may like to look out for them. But chances are, you'll like a band guy. That's the way it works in band. Band has more interclub relationships then anything else. I mean, look at Charlie and Tiffany, who have been together since their freshmen year, and wow, isn't it kind of sad that I know that? See, what did I tell you – in band, you get to know things about other people."

The whole band turned to look at either the pit person Charlie or the flute section leader Tiffany, who both blushed.

"There will be times when you love band, and times when you hate it. There will be times when you love your section leaders, and times that you hate them, and section leaders, there will be times when you love your section, and times when you hate them. But from the second you entered that door this morning, you were, and will always be, a Band Dork. There is no getting around it now, so wear your title with pride. So, that was my speech, and now it's over, so I'll hand the podium back over to Ryan, who will explain what you are going to be doing for the next hour or so. Ryan?"

Ryan eagerly stepped up onto the podium again. "Ok, so, basically, Blake and I are way too lazy to go outside and make you all march around in circles for a few hours, because his coffee hasn't kicked in yet, and I'm just always too lazy. So, you guys have about another hour to bond and goof off and do the first official section swap of the day – though keep in mind, I want to be apart of it, too, so…let's say…in like, 23.67 minutes, come back here and we'll all switch? Does that work for all of you?"

The section leaders all looked at each other and quickly conferred with the ones near them before nodded back to Ryan.

"Ok, good. Now, until then, go bond and stuff! Welcome to your last free hour of your summer. Muhahahahaha!" Ryan started cackling like a madman. This went on for a few minutes, until Isaac and Erik had the sense to run up to their older brother and slap him across the cheek, bringing him back to reality.

"Thanks, guys, I needed that," he told them, so they slapped him again. And again. And again. And again. "Ahh! Stop!" he commanded the twins. "Two demits each for attacking your drum major and brother! And you're grounded!"

Satisfied with their work, the twins highfived each other and returned to their sections on opposite sides of the room.

"Ok, now that it's been decided again that Isaac and Erik can never be within two feet of each other, why are you all still sitting around?" Ryan demanded. "Go bond!"

7:56

Classroom #144 where the piccolo section have their sectionals

The freshmen girls in the piccolo section spent their 23.67 minutes drilling Tiffany about her relationship with Charlie. They had already bonded, since all they really needed to was to giggle together once before becoming friends, so Tiffany wasn't really worried that they weren't doing anything. She was flattered by their questions, and eagerly answered them.

"Are you two going to get married once you graduate?" Katie, a freshmen, asked.

"That's the plan," Tiffany answered with a smile. "Charlie wants to get into the Air Force Academy when he graduates, or go right into the Air Force if he doesn't get accepted, so who knows where we will end up? But he told me he wants to, and that's all that I really need right now."

8:00

PVHS's Band Room in the Second Official Pit Circ-Syc

"So, how embarrassed are you right now?" Max asked his best friend. "I mean, having Blake announce to the whole band like that and stuff."

Charlie shrugged. "Not very. I mean, I asked her out for the first time in the band room with the whole band watching, and that was even worse then Blake telling everybody."

"True," Max agreed. "But enough talk about you and Tiff, even though I know that that is your favorite subject either."

"Haha."

"Where were we with introductions?" Max asked, ignoring Charlie. "Right. Logan. Go."

Logan made a face and sat up from his previous lying down position. "Ok. I'm Logan, I'm a junior, and I'm in band because last year the principal made me join it, saying that I needed another outlet to "express my anger with" other then drugs and drinking and all that other jazz. I've cleaned myself up since then, but I somehow realized in the middle of marching season last year that the best friends an ex-druggie could have are in bandos, so I just couldn't not come back this year."

"Ice cream?" Max reminded him.

"Rocky Road all the way!"

"So that brings us to you, Ms. Lily," Max told the girl with a grin

She smiled at him shyly back. "I'm Lily," she said softly. "I'm a freshmen, and I'm in pit because I play the oboe - "

"Rock on double reeds!" Sean cheered.

"And I didn't want to learn a different instrument or be in Guard or anything, and my favorite…cookies and cream."

"Do you have any siblings?" Charlie asked randomly.

Lily shook her head. "I'm an only child. Why?"

Charlie looked over at Max with an eyebrow raised.

"I can't," Max told his friend. "I have too many this year, and I can't take on another one on top of all that I have to do this year. Besides, you don't have any, and you'd make a good one!"

"Does anybody want to tell me what is going on?" Sean wondered.

"Nope," Max answered.

Charlie turned to Lily, who was looking at him and Max with a quizzical expression on her face. "You heard Blake's speech, right?" he asked her. "So, you heard him say that band is like a family. Well, every year, the upperclassmen guys always 'adopt' younger girls to be their sisters, just to watch over and stuff. We make sure that guys treat you with respect, and we basically act like your older brothers, except without the fighting and stuff that biological brothers come with. Max has a lot of younger sisters, along with his real sister, so he can't take any more. I, on the other hand, am an only child, just like you, and I don't have any band younger sisters. So, how would you like it if I became your 'brother'?"

"I'd like that," Lily answered with a blush.

"Aww, how cute!" Max grinned. "Hate to break up this newly formed family, but it's time for a field trip!"

"Why?" Sean asked.

"Because it's my turn to introduce myself, and we need go outside to do that."

"For the cart?" Logan asked.

"For the cart!" Max confirmed. "Up. Everybody, up! Follow me!"

Max led the way across the band room and out the door on the other side of the room and out into the parking lot. In the slot closest to the door, an old golf cart was parked. The sides were covered with signatures, writings and pictures.

Max gazed down at it fondly. "This is Bob," he told Lily. "I'd have nothing without him. But c'mon, everybody in!" Max quickly crutched over to the cart and pulled himself into the drivers seat, handing his crutches to Charlie, who stuck them in the back seat before climbing in after Max. Sean and Logan quickly scrambled into the back seat, leaving Lily outside, looking lost, so Logan jumped out and gestured to Lily to sit in the middle of him and Sean.

Max pulled out a key from his pocket and started the cart, pulling it out of the parking space. "Story time, story time!" Charlie cheered.

"Hush, or you won't get to hear it!" Max ordered. "Thanks. Ok, story time, story time! Ok, so, Lily, you've probably noticed by now that I'm on crutches. Am I right?"

In the backseat, Lily nodded. Max was driving, so he couldn't see this, but plowed on with his story anyways. "There is a good reason for that. When I was 13 and in the 8th grade, I noticed this lump in my knee, and went to the doctors, blah blah blah…To make a long story short, the doctors told me that I had a malignant tumor in my right knee, and to save my life I'd had to lose my leg. So I had my leg amputated, was on chemo for a few months, and have been in remission ever since. If I don't relapse in the next year, they'll pronounce me cured. But once my leg was removed, I had to option of getting a prosthetic or not, but after having one for a few months, I choose not to keep it. Do you know how itchy those things are? So, now I just use crutches with my one leg. But that proved to be a hard thing to have for marching band, since Pit is responsible for getting all of their equipment to and from the field every practice, and crutching over there was had. Hence, Bob. We load him full of stuff and I drive it over there, occasionally let somebody else in the cart for a ride. Normally, we draw straws every day, and short one gets to ride for that practice. At competitions, they have their own golf cart driving people that I just hitch a ride with. Oh, and in case it isn't obvious, that's why I'm in Pit. I play French horn during concert season, and my favorite ice cream is pistachio."

"Good story," Charlie told him. "But aren't you forgetting something?"

"Am I?" Max asked. "No, I don't think so…am I?"

"23.67 minutes!" Logan reminded him. "You're missing it."

"Section swap!" Max gasped. "Ok, everybody, hold on tight!" With that, he quickly drove back around the parking lot into Bob's parking space, crutching up to the door as quickly as his one leg would allow him.

((We sort of have the brothers thing at my band. It's not official, but most of the senior and some junior guys always look out for us freshmen girls. It's quite fun, to have a bunch of older brothers to protect you, though they do take the protection thing a bit overboard at times…))