I crashed into the bookstore at 3:43, thirteen minutes after my shift started.
"I'm so sorry," I told Clara, the owner's daughter, "My friend- "
"It's fine," she told me, "As you can see, we have the usual Thursday rush." There were maybe two people there, "You're on the back register."
I worked at Books Unlimited, a tiny bookstore in the middle of the worlds oddest strip mall. The bookstore was located between a fabric store and a bakery, where Em works. During band season, we tended to work the same hours (because they're the only hours we had free). Unfortunately since band had ended, she worked Friday through Sunday, while I worked Monday through Thursday. I really couldn't complain. I made money that most teenagers could only dream of.
I sat down, pulled out my audition packet and flipped to the page that had the word cymbals at the top. Winter drumline auditions were in less than a week and I was far from ready. In the back of my mind I was pretty sure it didn't matter. I had been on the line for three years, and played cymbals two of them. I really doubted that Rob, the drumline director, was going to give up my spot. But still, I figured I should practice. That was, if I did drumline at all. The jury was still out on that one.
Marching band (referred to as simplify as "fall" for those who did both marching band and winter drumline) that year had gone well. We ended the season with a seventh place finish and Grand Nationals. I was extremely happy. The first three years of marching band I had marched trumpet with some of the greatest guys ever. I had also been fortunate enough to spend my next three winter seasons with another great group of guys. At the end of my junior year I had decided that I would finish out fall of my senior year with the trumpets, and winter of my senior year with the Blue Devils, my favorite corp. But that all changed before senior year even began. First I had left the trumpet section to go stand on a podium and wave my hands around like an idiot. While I enjoyed being a drum major, I really missed marching. The second thing that changed was I didn't make Blue Devils.
I was a Blue Devils addict. I adored the Blue Devils. I had wanted to march for them since I was a freshman. I had even changed my college plan to be able to march for them. However, the same weekend that the Blue Devils held auditions, I had a sinus infection. Needless to say, my auditions went horribly, and I didn't make it. I was pissed. Not at the fact that I didn't make it, but at the fact I assumed that I would. I had gotten so cocky that I hadn't bothered to think of a back up plan. I had given up drumline and even changed my college plans so I could march with them. I hadn't even considered anything else.
As of the moment, I had no idea what I going to do this winter or next year for college. I had already decided that I wasn't interested in another corp. So by default, I was doing winter drumline. College was a bigger problem. I had already applied for early admission at UCLA, but in all honesty I really didn't want to go there. I really wanted to go to Boston University. I liked everything about the school, except that it was three thousand miles away from the Blue Devils. As strange as it may sound, I was praying that I got rejected from UCLA.
I began to screw around on the computer. For some obscure, unknown reason the computers we used to ring up customers had internet. It was a mystery to everyone who worked there. All ten of us who worked in the one room bookstore felt that playing on the computer was more important than the other meaningless tasks like, say, stocking shelves. I had no idea how on earth this place ever managed to stay open, let alone turn over a profit.
I made my way to DCI's homepage, and then managed to find the homepage of the corp that Em had been so anxious to tell me about earlier that afternoon. They called themselves the Dragons, and yes, they were DCI's first all female corp. They're show actually looked kind of interesting. "The many moods of jazz." Kind of like the Smuckers slogan (I wonder how they felt about that.) You could tell that Beth Browning had worked for the Blue Devils once upon a time. I had to admit, even though I had sworn of drum corps, I was intrigued. I took a look at the audition dates. Now I saw why Em wanted me to look at them. They were holding their "Midwest" audition in two weeks at a high school about an hour away. Rather convenient. And the audition material wasn't too challenging. By no means was it a walk in the park, but the third trumpet part looked manageable.
It looked like I might not have sworn of drum corps after all.