//------------------------------// // The First Competition // Story: Collide // by TheOriginalDash //------------------------------// Vinyl The summer passed in a blur, and not the high-on-drugs-has-no-concept-of-reality blur, but the time-flies-when-you're-having-fun blur. I loved spending the summer with Octy, and I couldn't ask for a better best friend. I still haven't gotten her to loosen up yet, but I'm getting there. Slowly. Soon, the first competition of the year was upon us. It was hosted by our local rivals, the Summerset High School Highlanders. We arrived at the school in the late afternoon, and it was a bitterly cold day for the beginning of September. We were very glad for our thin cotton gloves and heavy woolen marching uniform jackets. We spent the first hour finding out where our practice area would be, and unloading the percussion equipment and band instruments from the trailers. After that, we had about three hours left, and one of those was dedicated to practicing. We also needed about a half hour to get lined up and get onto the field, being such a large band, and needing to tell the newbies what to do. So, in the ninety minutes or so that we had left, I just chilled with my friends, and ate some concession stand food. Nothing like grease to warm you up for marching. As we got done with warm up, we lined up and stood around for a few minutes waiting for our director to signal the drum majors to lead us to the field. Eventually, we heard the cadence of the other band leaving the field, and I knew it was time. I tugged on my saxophone's neck strap one more time, checking to see if it was secure. I knew my shoelaces were double knotted; can't have untied shoes when roll-stepping our way through a performance. Finally we heard the distinctive four-whistle signal from our director, and we began the march to victory. I fell into autopilot, and I didn't notice my surroundings, nor the wildly cheering parents in the bleachers. It was game time, and I was in the zone. I took my place at the sideline, right in front of the thirty yard line, and waited for the band-o-grams and introductions to be over. The four whistle blasts sounded again, and we began to mark time. After those initial sixteen counts, I led my line forward onto the field. We marched into place, and executed a 180 degree turn. Then, we stopped, and waited for the drums to quiet. This anticipation is what our band was known for. We always kept the audience on their seats until the very end, a lot like the drop in a dubstep song. I've always wanted to be an electronica artist, but my parents disapprove. A hush fell over the assembled parents, even those not from our own legion of paternal and maternal figures. I waited, knowing what would come as soon as our drum majors raised their arms. And as I took a quiet breath, puffing out little clouds into the air across the springy green turf field, I watched for that very action. It came like a lightning bolt, injecting electricity into the band members' veins. I almost swore there was some magic flowing through us, but there was no telltale aura anywhere. I could tell that we were just as anxious as the crowd. It was our first competition of the year after all, and the first competition ever for many of the new kids. We were nervous about messing up the first time we would show our performance to the public. We had practiced this an incalculable amount of times, but there were always those pre-season jitters for everyone. And then, the drum majors' arms dropped, and they began conducting. Every thought went out of my head, and I was electric. I could not see anything around me but swishing silver capes, white pants and shoes, and royal purple jackets. I swam through a sea of flipping, twisting, and snapping marchers, each with a deadly focus. We became a single entity with one purpose only, to execute the show flawlessly and defeat our rivals. We have been so thoroughly trained that we even coordinated our breathing. This is the true spirit of the Marching Cavaliers. Time passed more quickly than thought, and before I knew it, we had stopped, and the performance was over. Head held high, I still felt the adrenaline of marching as I sucked in lungfuls of air. This was always the single greatest moment in time, hearing the near deafening applause and riding the leftover high from performing with all I have. I love this job. Almost as much as I love being around Octy; it's the same sort of rush that comes over me. Did I really just think that? What is that even supposed to mean? Where did it come from? I didn't have much time to ponder those potentially life changing questions, because the drum majors were dismissing us from the field. I followed the guy in front of me with my head held high, despite my exhausted body and desperately churning mind. I kept the act up all the way back to the trailer, and then it didn't matter, because we were loading the instruments back up. I waved nervously at Octy when she passed me, still unsure of our friendship. We had only known each other for a month. My fear was unfounded, as she smiled lightly at me on the way to pick up her case. I hurried to finish packing, practically throwing my mouthpiece and neckstrap into their compartment. I picked up my case and walked over to Octy, and offered to hold her case while she packed because she was struggling. She smiled and handed me the case. I waited as patiently as someone like me can; tapping my foot and jiggling my leg, watching birds overhead, and pondering the grey clouds on the horizon which might bring rain. I hope it waits until after awards. Finally, Octy finished, and I grabbed both instruments and took them to the trailer. Passing them off to the loading parents, I turned around to find Octy, only to see her standing right behind me. "Vinyl, what possessed you to load my case? I'm perfectly capable." She irritatedly swiped a bit of black hair out of her face as her violet eyes peered curiously at me. "I dunno, really. It just seemed nice. I like being nice to people, usually. If it bothers you, I won't do it again. It's just less work if one of us carries both." I shrugged my shoulders, rolling them around under my uniform jacket, which was kind of big on me. "No, it's no bother. I was simply surprised. Most people only do that for the person they're dating, or close friends." I smiled toothily at her. "Well duh, of course we're close. We shared a room for an entire week at camp. We've seen each other at our best and our worst. That should make us pretty darn close. Don't you think so?" I reached back and untied my ponytail because it was messed up from the helmet I had squashed on it and sweated in for at least an hour. Sliding the band back on my right wrist, I shook my hair out and started gathering the loose hair back up while I waited for Octy's answer. "Well, I suppose it does. I had no idea you were so logical, Vinyl. You should be like this more often." Wrapping the band back around a third and final time, I frowned at her. "Octy, if I'm logical, there's nobody to be crazy and awesome. Well, aside from that Rainbow girl, but she's way too cocky and full of herself to be fun like me. You can keep on being logical and kinda stuffy and occasionally stuck up, and I'll just chill like usual. Sound like a plan? Good," I said, not waiting for her answer. She planted her hands on her hips and scowled at me. If looks could kill, those lavender eyes would be armed with atom bombs. Seriously. "I am not stuffy and stuck up! I can be fun if I want to! You obviously just don't understand fun as well as you think." I snickered at her statement. Octy and fun mix about as well as oil and water. The most fun thing she's ever done is join the band, and even then, she plays cello for orchestra class, so it cancels out. "Whatever, Octy. At least you're spending time with me. You'll loosen up. I'm already rubbing off on you." After giggling at the double entendre and receiving a well-deserved slap to the shoulder, I decided to make it my mission to change her. Have no fear Octy, you will soon be fun! "Hey, Octy, I meant to ask you earlier, would you be my two for the walk back to awards?" I felt a little awkward asking her, but all of my other friends had already paired off, and I didn't want to be with someone I didn't know or couldn't stand. "I suppose I could, Vinyl. But just behave. No obscene jokes whispered into my ear like you know you do. No getting too close on purpose. And definitely no flirting. I don't care that it's just your way of showing you care, I don't like it one bit. Got it?" I laughed a bit when she mentioned the flirting. I can't help it. It's just in my nature to be flirty, and I take it out on my friends. I can't exactly flirt with random guys; they would think I was serious and try something that I'd have to stop painfully. But girls are another matter. Sure, some people think it's weird, and I've had the gay question flashed at me by strangers and busybodies more than once, but my girls know I'm kidding. They flirt back, so it's obviously not weird to them. I'm even apparently the 'husband' for my two oldest friends. Nothing weird there. It would be weird if I liked girls, I suppose. "Got it, sexy. No flirting with your gorgeous self. Can I hold your hand, though? What if I get scared?" She punched my shoulder and glared at me as her face flushed red. "Vinyl, I meant it! There are people all around! What are they going to think if they see you flirting with me like this? No! You are not allowed to do anything. No holding hands, ever," she hissed at me. I expected a forked tongue to flicker out of her mouth at any second. It didn't, sadly. "Chill, Tavs. I was kidding. I know how you feel about personal space, beautiful." Before she could respond, the drum majors blew a whistle to get us to line up. Octy glared at me like she does when I'm in for it later. Yay? No, wait, that's bad. The walk over was uneventful, what with the furious silence of the girl marching next to me. She kept her back ramrod straight, and her eyes glared straight ahead, whereas I stood mostly straight and left my eyes to wander. I had to admit, she was one of the best marchers I've ever seen, but it lacked something. She was too mechanical, which is saying something for a member of a precision band. She was funny like that, always doing everything exactly the way she was told. She was missing the art in everything. I found some tulips the other day, and she said they were pretty. Nothing more. She couldn't see the graceful bell shaped curve of my favorite flower, or the subtle shade variations. Flowers were the one thing I've always loved, unlikely as it seems. Well, flowers and music. Octy could see the beauty in music, at least. When we reached the bleachers for the bands to watch the awards, we saw that it was going to be a tight fit. The organizers hadn't given our two hundred members quite enough space, even without our contingent of twenty that went out to the field to receive awards. Octy was not going to like how close we would be sitting. I was right about that. She glared at me every time I shifted the slightest bit, like she thought I was up to something. She ought to know by now that I don't like girls, so I'm obviously not trying to subtly grope her. Even if I did feel that way about her, she deserves more respect than that. I wouldn't even do that as a joke. But I suppose I have been kinda terrible about the whole flirting thing the last few months. Maybe I've given her the wrong impression. As I had begun to mull this over, the announcer finally began calling Class AAA. We won every category, including Overall Marching, which was a total surprise considering some saxophones apparently messed up pretty badly at the end. We also got the title of Best Overall Band, which made us Champion of the Hilltop Highlander Harmony Festival. It was a pretty great start to our season, truth be told. I almost considered trying to hug Octy, I was so excited. That might have been a bad thing had I actually done it. Back on the bus, everyone was in a celebratory mood. We passed the trophies around so everyone could kiss them. Then, they were stowed away in seats with responsible kids that wouldn't break them. That means Octy and I didn't get one, simply because I was there. I think I make people nervous when I'm around breakable things. Bull in a china shop type of scenario, although it'd be more likely a rampaging bull with firecrackers and explosive thingies on a unicycle, playing chicken with a bear on a motorcycle with a rocket launcher. That's no hyperbole, I utterly destroy every fragile thing I come near. I'm a special breed. At least that's what Octy always says. I can't tell yet whether she means it in a bad way or not. Speaking of Octy, I've managed to trap her into sitting with me on this trip. Fun for her. Actually, I do think she's kinda enjoying it, despite my frequent flirting. Is that like frequent flying? Do I get miles for that? Ba dum tss. Thank you, ladies and germs, I'll be here all season. Try the concession stand hot dogs. All joking aside, it was a rather pleasant trip. Octy was too tired to be as uptight as she normally is. Actually, she was really too tired to do anything. She even fell asleep on my shoulder about thirty miles from home. It was really adorable, if a bit awkward. That didn't last long, though, because soon I told everybody what was going on, and the mobile phones and permanent markers came out. She woke up looking like a street thug, complete with rather convincing facial hair drawn by moi, and tattoos courtesy of Jay. She was not pleased. I'll probably have to go to a surgeon to get her foot removed from my butt, because I think it got stuck from kicking me so hard. I will never do that to her ever again, so long as we both shall live. On the upside, she's now an internet video sensation. She doesn't like that much, either. There's just no pleasing this girl. Well, of course there's not, now that I think about it. She doesn't like the idea of sex. (That was a very long, drawn out, not so hilariously executed sex joke. Thanks for sticking with me.) And I've been trying very hard to see how far I can get before she shuts me down. The guys are using me like an information gold mine. I, meanwhile, having been trading my secrets for the scoop on Jay. He just sees me as one of the guys, but I'm trying to change that. It might help if I stopped flirting with our girl friends. I thought I've made it clear that I'm straight, but I guess not. Why is my behavior always so inherently sexual? I act just like a guy sometimes, I swear. I'll never admit it, but good old Octypus is right. (I'll never admit to that nickname, either, unless it irritates her. I should find out, shouldn't I? Pushing Octy's buttons is always fun.) Oh well, can't change me now. If I act too sexually and manly, so be it. I will change for no one and nothing. Although, I did go to the trouble of locating Octy's clarinet and putting it in her locker when they unloaded the trailers back at the school tonight. That's really odd for someone like me, very uncharacteristic. Maybe she is rubbing off on me. ( Mental side note: Hah, rubbing off. I should use that on Octypus sometime. I can just see her face now.) Anyway, she appreciated the gesture, at least. She gave me a weird look when I told her, but she did smile and thank me. That was nice. I might get a hug out of her eventually, if I keep being this oddly sweet to her. That would also be nice.