I brush my mousy  brown hair out of my eyes and enter the band room.  Oh. My. God.  I think to myself as I witness the room before me.  This room is a disaster zone.  There are chairs and  music stands everywhere I look.  There's sheet music thrown around. Shoes and bags cover the floor.  Instruments and cases just lying about.  People talking and screaming and laughing.  It's so loud I can't even think to myself.  It's insane!

I look around at all the faces in the room.  I don't know anyone, not that I was really expecting to.  I went to a private school all my life up until now.  Sure, I have driven past this place a million times, but that was completely different from being inside of it.  My sister went to school here and I have heard many stories about it, not many of which were  good. If this is any clue as to what high school is like, I'm not ready.  I  really just want to turn around, walk out the door and never come back, but I know my mom would never let that happen. Plus a voice in my head whispers that I can't let my dad down.  So instead, I move to a somewhat unpopulated corner of the room and take a seat on the step there.

There's 20 minutes left until camp officially starts, so I'm hoping that  maybe I can  pretend to be invisible until then, but that's not what happens at all.  Shortly after I sit down, a girl approaches me and sits next to me.  She places her stuff on the other side of her and turns to me.  "Hi, I'm Julia. I play clarinet too. What's your name?"

I'm sitting here, completely confused.  How the hell did she know- oh right.  I'm kinda holding my case.  Duh.   Great way to make a first impression.  Now I'm just staring at her blankly. She probably thinks there's something wrong with me.  I'm off to such a great start.

"I'm Zoey, " I answer.  Julia extends her hand  to me and I shake it.  "Are you new too?"

Julia looks at me, unsure how to answer.  "Well, yes and no.  I'm a freshman so this is my first legit band camp, but I went to the Fourth of July camp too so I sort of  know what I'm doing, but only barely. I'll be fine as long as we only go forward, but I don't think that's how this works."

"Oh, alright."  Great, I think to myself.  I'm already falling behind.  This is just fan-fucking-tastic.  I don't know if it's possible to fail at marching band, but I probably will.  Woo!  First person to fail at music and walking. Definitely living up to the family legacy.

"What about you?"  Julia asks.  She brushes a few stands of her black curly hair out of her face.  "I don't think I've seen you around the band room before.  Or the school for that matter either. "

"That's because I went to the private school down the street my whole life.  My sister went here for high school and now so am I.  She was in band too.  Now I have to follow her trail.  I do love following in my sister's footsteps.  Being compared to her is always the highlight of my day."

"Ah," Julia says, chuckling.  "I see you are well acquainted with my good friend sarcasm.  We should get along pretty well.  I have a sister too.  She just graduated.  Who's your sister.  Maybe I know her."

"Amanda."

"No way!" Julia screams, squeezing my wrists. "That is my sister Izzy's best friend!  Maybe we really are following in their wake." 

 She laughs and I offer an awkward laugh to her in return.  I notice my shoe is untied and I lean down to tie it.  Well, she does look exactly like Izzy.  I should've know.  Izzy is over at my house enough.  Same curly black hair.  Same brown eyes.  Same cocoa skin.  They even have the same nose if I'm not mistaken.  They're practically twins.  How did I not see this sooner?

Julia and I continue to make small talk about our summer and  our lives until we hear someone shout "Hey band!"

"Hey what?" everyone around me screamed back.  The room goes quiet and I have no clue what is going on.  I look around, confused, trying to figure out what I missed.

Julia catches my eye and helps me out.  "It's a band tradition," Julia whispered to me.  " There's a bunch of them.  Just go with it."

I turn my attention back to the front of the band room.  There are two men standing in front of what appears to be an office.  I assume they are the directors.  The tall, bald man with a brunette goatee began to talk first.  "Good morning all and welcome to another year of band camp.  For those of you that don't know, I'm Mr. Boston and this is Mr. Gregg.  If you could all be seated, we'll get things going."

There's a slight murmur as the crowd moves toward the stairs to take their seats.  Once everyone is settled down, the shorter, geekier director with blonde hair begins to talk.  "Um hello everyone.  I'm Mr. Gregg.  It's great to see so many new faces out in the crowd.  Before we get started with the basics of marching, we want to lay down a few rules so everyone can have a positive experience here in the marching band."

Ha, I think to myself.  Too late for that. 

Mr. Boston pulls out a piece of paper.  "Alright.  Here we go.  Rule number one:  always be on time.  Number two: always respect others, especially your directors, section leaders and officers.   We are here to help our group be successful, and that's what we want to be, so don't bring anyone down. We're like a big family.  Number three: absolutely, positively no gum.  It's bad for your instruments and it ends up everywhere.  And yes this includes the percussion section.  We have to be fair here.   Number four: no food or drinks besides water in the band room.  We have an ant problem and ants are gross so just don't attract them.  Number five: you are responsible for your music, your instrument and yourself.   You're all young adults here.  And last of all, number six: no purple. Am I clear?"

Some kid on the front step raises his hand. "What's purple?"

Mr. Gregg answers him with a straight face.  "Boys are blue.  Girls are pink.  Don't let them mix.  Got it?" The boy nods his head. "Also no dark blue or dark pink. We are still at school and this is an extension of a class. Just keep your hands to yourselves." He gets a weird look and points his finger at all of us as he scans the room. 

Mr. Gregg really seemed to be harping on this. It seemed odd considering high schools are usually full of couples kissing and holding hands (or at least that's how TV portrays it). Julia leans into me. "I heard they had a problem last year with PDA.  My sister told me some color guard girls were caught having a threesome with a percussionist in the band trailer.  It was all anyone was talking about. "

"Ew," I whisper back. That would explain the extra emphasis.  " Remind me not to ever go near the trailer. People are nasty.  Who even does that kind of thing?  Like, come on. Get a room."

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but that's also the reason all the practice rooms are locked," Julia says. 

I shudder and try to get that image out of my mind as the directors go on over some more information.  "Ok let's introduce you to this year's leadership," Mr. Boston says.  " Section leaders wave a hand.  Officers come up here. "

Four people move to the front of the room, three girls, one guy.  One very, very hot guy.  He has blonde hair, green eyes, and an award-winning smile.  With his well-built body, he could probably be a model. 

"Who is that?" I whisper to Julia.

"That's Ethan, the drum major," she answers.  Before I can ask what that is, she answers me as if reading my mind.  "He conducts the band during shows.  He's kind of a big deal."

"Oh.  Ok," I say practically drooling.  I wonder if he's got abs.  I've never seen real abs before. 

Julia notices me staring. "Don't get any ideas, girl.  He's a senior and way out of our league.  Besides, he's dating Jessica.  He's taken.  Don't even think about it.  You don't want to start band drama on your first day."

"Don't worry."  I say, a little disappointed.  I understand boundaries when I see them. I quickly shake all thoughts of him out of my head.   "I wouldn't dream of it. "