AN: I don't particularly like this chapter, so if anyone has an idea on how to make it better, please tell me.
Disclaimer: I only own Jill and Jake
If Jake thought day one was bad, day two was even worse. He had never been so sore in his life. "And I thought football practice wore me out." The soon-to-be senior thought. To make matters worse, he had a horrendous sunburn. Remembering yesterday's encounter, he dressed accordingly in a white shirt and white shorts. On top of that he had plenty of both sunscreen and water. Not wanting to be humiliated like yesterday, he showed up at exactly 8:45.
"Look who showed up on time." Jill said to Emma and Brad, her best friends since she joined colorguard.
"I heard that, idiot." Jake snarled at her. While it wasn't exactly true, Jill couldn't refute the statement, and he knew it. With a 4.0 GPA, he was pretty much guaranteed valedictorian.
Usually, Jill either ignored him, or did her best to come up with a scathing insult, of which she knew plenty. This time however, she arched an eyebrow, smirked slightly, and used something that she had had for over a year but never taken advantage of: rank. "Jake, that's 50 pushups followed by two laps around the school. Today." Brad and Emma, along with the other guard and band members laughed with intense amusement. It was cruel, and not Jill's style to do so, but they all relished the opportunity to get some revenge on the football team through this lone player.
"You're kidding me." Jake said, not believing that Jill of all people, the only person who hadn't laughed when the band directors' dog jumped on him, would do that. The look in her eyes, however, said a resounding 'no.' "I don't have to take orders from an idiot." At that, Jill's eyes flashed with an anger that she usually didn't let herself feel.
"Jake," she said icily, "right now I'm in a good mood. Keep it up, though, and I'll double the pushups and laps."
"And if you don't get started right now, you'll owe me double what you owe Jill." Brad added, long since fed up with this football player's insolence.
"That means start doing pushups, NOW!" Kasie, one of the guard captain's added. Grudgingly, Jake dropped down to do his 50, which he did surprisingly quickly."
"Satisfied?" He snarled at Jill.
"Hm…I seem to recall ordering two laps around the school. You can do those sometime between now and dinner. Then I'll be satisfied." That said, Jill walked into the guard room and grabbed the flag bag she was given responsibility of.
Emma and Brad talked quietly about how surprising it was for Jill to pull her rank. Brad chalked it up to yesterday's practice. Though she was fine with a flag, she had had the usual hard time with rifle, although even she had admitted she was better than in indoor.
"Well, whatever the reason, I think I like this Jill." Emma said. Before Brad could comment, Jill called him over to ask for some help. The instructors had told her that they wanted her doing backhands and hops by the end of the week, and she was still having trouble with them.
"All right, band, get you drill and stuff it quickly! I want to be on the field in 5 minutes." G said, loudly in order to be heard over the talking band members.
"Just when I was almost getting it." Jill griped. She wasn't that angry because she was well aware that she could ask Brad for help later on, or even Emma. She knew that she could ask anyone in the guard for help, but usually chose to ask those two because she knew them the best.
On the field
While the band did a basics block, the colorguard did their own warm ups. After some brief flag warm-ups, the instructors had the rifles get their rifles and then split up into two groups.
As Brad obediently, if grudgingly, did his flag warm ups, he looked at the rifles. Not because he was jealous (so he told himself), but because he loved to see Jill mess up. The second he heard the word 'backhands,' he paid even more attention to them. It helped that Drake, the person running flags, had let them have a small break. He noted with amusement the nervousness on Jill's face.
"All right, rifles, do eight backhands." Eric said, also watching Jill a little more than the others. She was still fairly knew to the weapon line, and he wanted to be able to point out any mistakes quickly. Eight backhands didn't take long, and the rifles were looking at him for the next direction, except for one. Jill, as she was wont to do when she did something incorrectly and she knew it, was looking down. "Jill." He said, waiting the moment it took for her head to immediately shoot up and her eyes to fix on him, "you're much closer than usual." Truth be told, she was doing them correctly, she just wasn't getting her hand turned around fast enough. "Do it again," he told the other rifles. "And Drake, why are the flags just sitting there?" He snapped before counting off the rifles.
While Eric was saying that, Jill was smiling to herself. "It's freaky how the instructors always seem to know when to give an encouraging word." She thought, for this wasn't the first time that had happened. After they did backhands and hops on both left and right hand, the rifles were allowed to take a break since the flags had had one.
"You really were close." Emma said, knowing that Jill had pretty much no self-confidence and usually didn't fully believe it when she was told that she was doing fine.
"Sure." Jill said, knowing why Emma had said that and not in the mood to argue about it. She saw the look Emma gave her, though. "It would seem that this discussion isn't over yet." She thought, gathering her equipment, water, and dot book when G indicated that he was ready for the guard.
First, they spent a little bit reviewing yesterday's drill, and then grabbed some chalk to mark that days.
"What is with this drill?" Jill thought. She had gotten almost adept at correctly marking her dots, and between marking she looked at the formations. They were complicated. "This'll be fun." She said under her breath. She knew how grueling band camp was, especially if G kept up the tradition of never giving them water and driving her crazy with the words 'one more time.'
So far, he wasn't letting her down. They had been working on drill for going on an hour and a half, and they still hadn't gotten a break. It wasn't until one of the seniors told G that a freshman was about to pass out from dehydration that G said the magic words 'five minute break.'
Jake gratefully collapsed onto the hill next to his water. "Good grief, but this heat is ridiculous!" He said.
"What heat?" Jill, the resident Southerner asked in a slightly smart-aleck tone of voice. Their were three reasons that Jake kept his mouth shut: one-she said that to everyone and her friends got it worse; two-he didn't feel like doing more push-ups; three-he was already planning his revenge come winter.
"Come on, Jill, it's almost 100 degrees out here." Brad said, slightly irritated that Jill seemed to be the only one not dying from the heat-and she was wearing pants for goodness sake!
"Prove it." Jill said, after which Brad handed over his thermometer. "I didn't know they made these things digital for outdoors." She said looking at it and noting that they were in the shade. "Cool! Five more degrees and it will be genuinely hot! Come on, heat wave!" She said excitedly. Privately, she admitted that it was kinda hot, but she loved making her the friends angry by doing that. Seeing the look that Brad gave her, she explained. "Hot, my friend, is 104 degrees in the shade."
"Oh, shut up!" said an irate Emma. Usually Jill's 'it's not hot' antics were amusing, but in 99 degree weather, it was just plain annoying.
"Jill, if you don't drink your water I'm going to force down your throat and then order you to wear shorts tomorrow!" Christie, one of the guard instructors called over. Obediently, Jill started drinking her water, admittedly partially because she was afraid that Christie really would order her to wear shorts.
Five minutes never lasts long enough and, remarkably, G learned to tell time and at five minutes on the dot had them back out on the field. Knowing that 'his kids' were irritated at going so late, it was 12:15, he gave them good news. "Okay, band, after we learn these last two sets we'll break for lunch." The exhausted band and guard kids all gave an excited cheer and did their best to quickly learn these last two sets. However, it turned out that G actually meant learn them, as in be able to march all the sets from both yesterday and today, so it was 1:00 when they finished. "Okay, back out here at two." The relieved band kids quickly ran inside while the colorguard members went to their instructors.
"John, your show writer, is going to be here until four, so I want all of you in the gym at two, not out here. And if the mat isn't set up you're running laps." Eric said sternly.
"Speaking of laps, Jake, you still owe me two." Jill said as she passed him.
"Does he?" Eric said, overhearing the comment. When Jill, along with the rest of the colorguard, nodded, Eric looked at Jake and said, "do them now."
"I'd recommend hurrying." Kasie added. "You won't get extra time to eat." Grudgingly, and with a glare at Jill, Jake started-and to his credit finished- his two laps.
AN: 'Heat is 104 degrees in the shade' is something my grandmother once said, so I don't own that statement. And for those who noticed the title change, flute de la doom gave me a bunch of title ideas, and I picked some things from two of them. So Flute de la doom gets and E-cookie! And many thanks to the reader who noticed my mistake from earlier.