Marking Time

"Did you get valve oil?"

It was the day we were scheduled to leave and I was putting my suitcase and instrument into Beth's trunk, about to head off to the school.

The morning was hazy and cool. A rain had come in the night before, drenching everything in its reach. The sky was a solid gray with no definition to the clouds, just a blanket that blotted out the sun and the sky.

"The last time I checked you were the one that needed valve oil, not me."

Mr. Glass had insisted upon us giving our phone numbers to our partners. Now Simon was texting me virtually every second. "Did you get this?" "Have you finished that?" "Make sure you pack this." "Do you really think you'll need that?"

“Oh yeah. Okay. See you at the school.”

Being already overly annoyed, I didn't reply. I just shut my phone and jumped in the driver's seat.

I usually drove down the rows and rows of houses without paying any one of them any particular notice. Trees shaded the roadway in a graceful way, and a nice, neat sidewalk snaked across everyone's front lawns, but that too had long slipped my notice. Our neighborhood was in no way the upper crust, but it wasn't near poverty level either. It was a comfortable life style that had always suited me comfortably.

But as I drove out of the driveway I did, for some reason, take notice to our house. With it's monotonous white paint and black shudders it seemed, for a moment, dead and lifeless. But there, in the middle, making the house come alive with vibrancy, was a red door. The exact color of a candied apple, it was an attention grabber, and I silently wondered why I had never seen it before.

As I drove out of the neighborhood, I couldn't get my mind off of the red door. Why had I noticed it? Today of all days, I had noticed it. What was it about it that drew my mind to it? Was it the solidarity of the spot color, or was it the vivaciousness that it brought to the house? For some odd reason, the door stuck out in my mind so vividly.

And before I knew it, after thinking so long about the door, I was at the school. The school's black and gold Panther Pride charter bus was parked in front of the grassy patch that was usually filled with so many people playing football, but practice, for them at least, didn't start for another hour still. Pulling into the parking space, I saw Keaton and Seth loading onto the bus. I hoped that I was not late. I hated people who were late. To me, tardiness was a signal that you didn't care about what you were doing. And I did care.

Grabbing my things out of the trunk I realized something. Did I tell my dad where I was going to be? Then the hurt struck, Would he care?

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I slammed my trunk door more forcefully than necessary, and I proceeded towards the bus. I shoved my suitcase and instrument in the compartments below the bus, then hopped up the steps.

"Ah. Daisy," Ms. Morrison was sitting in one of the first seats on the bus, checking off names.

"Yeah, I'm here," is all I replied.

Everyone was oddly dispersed around the bus. There was a group in the back, a group in the front, and no one in the middle. Seeing as I was in no mood for socialization at the moment, I took a seat in the middle, farther towards the back than the front.

I slipped on last year's black band hoodie, turned my iPod on, pulled my hood up, and leaned my head against the window. Hopefully I could catch a few hours of shut-eye before we got there, so I could recharge my batteries for the upcoming week, which was sure to be crazy.

As the gentle melody of Yiruma's Moonlight filled my ears, I drifted off to sleep…

Only to be woken up mere minutes later.

Someone bounced down into the seat next to me, causing me to bounce also, which resulted in my head hitting against the window with a soft, thunk!

"Ow!" I said sitting up

"Oh, sorry," I heard Simon's voice say.

I pulled my hood up, and saw Simon settling in next to me. He wore a white T-shirt with
black and gray swirling designs over the left shoulder underneath a black, long-sleeved shirt that he left unbuttoned. His hair looked as if he had gotten out of the shower, threw some hair gel in it, and walked out the door. "What are you a walking disaster?"

"Hahaha. Haha. Ha. I'm rolling on the floor."

Then I thought to ask the question, "What do you think you're doing?"

He looked around, pretending to be confused. "…The last time I checked, I was doing the same thing you were…."

"No, stupid, what are you doing in my seat?"

"You know what? You're really mean to me."

"Whatever," fed up, I stood and started to climb over him to switch seats.

As I was getting close to moving out into the isle, he grabbed my wrist. His hand was warm against mine, and whenever he touched me I stopped dead in my tracks.

"Okay. Okay. I'll stop. I just figured that since we're going to be 'buddies' all week, we might as well sit with each other."

I had to admit he did have a point. So, I relented.

Moving back into my seat I agreed with him, "Fine."

He laughed, "Fine."

Then I amended my previous statement, "But that doesn't mean I have to talk to you." I put my earbuds into my ears, turned my iPod back on, set it on my knee, and pulled my hood back down once again.

I leaned back against the window and tried to go sleep, but I couldn't. Now I seemed restless, when only a few minutes ago I had been exhausted.

Click.

I heard the click of a button being pushed on my iPod, before I actually heard the music stop.

Yanking my hood up, Simon was turned towards me, his hand coming back from pushing the pause button.

"What are you doing?" My head bobbed when I emphasized the 'what', a habit that was long beyond breaking.

"Did you get extra reeds?" His tone was even and calm, the exact opposite of mine.

"What?"

"Extra reeds. In case you break one," He clarified.

"Wha-er-uh I-I don't know!" I stuttered. How odd, I had never had a speech problem before.

"Well, what if you break one?"

"What do you care?" I barked.

"I don't want to have to suffer because of your mistakes."

"I don't make mistakes," once again with the head emphasis….

"Everyone makes mistakes," he cocked his head a little, and he almost looked sad. He looked like a puppy, which was, I have to say, adorable.

"Trust me, I won't."

The bus jerked forward, making my iPod slip off of my knee. It reached the end of the earbud cord and the connection between the two slipped out. It had yanked the earbuds completely out of my ears, which hurt tremendously. Simon leaned down and picked the iPod up for me. He handed it to me, saying, "No mistakes."

If you were to find the middle of Nowhere, take a right, and go two miles north, that's precisely where the Black Mountain Marching Band Camp was. Trees were thick on either side of the gravel road that wound up the mountain. As we passed through the wooden sign that held the name of the camp, everyone started to get their gear together, thankful to finally have a chance get off of the bus.

We pulled up in front of a small cabin that I guessed was ours.

Ms. Morrison stood and faced us, "Okay everyone, make sure you get everything off of the bus because it will be going back to the school and it won't be back until Friday. All of the girls will be in the dorm to the left, guys to the right. Mr. Roberts will be coming down later tonight, so the guys can have a sponsor in your room. It's two o'clock right now. We're having a camp counselor come and visit us at four, so we'll have plenty of time to get everything situated. So, everyone off of the bus."

All at once everyone got up, and walked towards the entrance. Usually, there was pushing and shoving going on whenever you were trying to get off of any band bus. But, since there were only eleven of us, including Ms. Morrison, there was little to no difficulty getting off.

I stepped down onto the dirt, and I automatically noticed one thing: the color. Everything was either green or brown. You had to look up to see the blue sky because of the tall cedar and pine trees that surrounded the camp in all directions. It was so humid that it felt like I was walking into a sauna, which made the heat even more unbearable.

Ms. Morrison unlocked the door to the cabin and we all filed in one by one carrying our instruments and suitcases.

The door opened up into a huge dining room that was conjoined with a kitchen, which was partially covered by a wall that stopped halfway before turning into a countertop. There were two singular doors on either side of the dining room, which we guessed led to the dorms.

All of the girls went to the left, the guys to the right. The dorm room was extremely long and plain. Along with white walls and brown carpet, there were ten bare bunk beds. White sheets lay on top of each bed. We had all brought our sleeping bags and pillows so there were no need for the itchy brown blankets that lay on top of the sheets. Since there was only five girls, including Ms. Morrison there were no scruples about who was going to get the top bunk. At the back of the room was a large mirror and three sinks. To the left were three showers and three stalled toilets. Luckily there was only the five of us, otherwise there would have been some yelling about bathroom time.

Soon we had devised a plan to push all of the beds together to create one long bed. Ms. Morrison didn't want join in on this, so she took the one singular bed to herself, the old fuddy-duddy.

We put all of our suitcases and instruments underneath where we approximated we were going to sleep, then we all jumped up on the top bunks for some bonding time. Ms. Morrison had left the room, most likely she had gone outside to go smoke, which left no hesitation to the topic of our conversations; no ears that would go tell someone else what we had said. All of the girls were either juniors or seniors and we trusted each other for the most part.

So we all sat there, talking to one another. I laid on my back, looking up at the ceiling which was about six inches away from my nose, (I thought to myself about how I was sure to hit my head on it in the morning) Monica was to my right, Chloe and Zoey to my left.

"Wonder what we're going to be doing this week," Chloe observed. Chloe was the flute section leader, and also a junior.

"Beats me," I added.

"I don't know, but at least you guys get the partner up with each other. Me and Daisy got stuck with guys." Monica complained.

Zoey huffed, "I don't really think that's an issue for Daisy…."

I was astounded. "What?"

"Oh come on, we all saw you on the bus with that new kid," Chloe chimed in. Of course she would always side with Zoey. Whatever Zoey said was right in her eyes.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Daisy, it's okay. It's not like you guys have to keep it a secret or anything," Monica added.

"No, guys I really don't think you get what I'm saying. Simon and I? Huh-uh. I cannot stand him. He is the most arrogant, self-righteous, sloppy… sloppy, idiot in this band!"

"You know the first stage is denial?" Zoey was completely serious when she posed the question, but then she burst out laughing seconds later, Chloe chiming in with her.

"Well I hope you guys are getting a good laugh. I'm the one that has to put up with him, not only just this week, but also the entire marching season. Thanks guys."

"Don't get your panties in a bunch. We're just playing around," Monica clarified.

I sighed, "I know. He just… gets on my nerves."

Zoey was playing with her hair, oblivious to those around her once again. "He's cute."

So I wasn't the only one who had noticed. It was natural though for Zoey to notice someone's looks. She was shallow and only liked the jocks with the surfer tan and Hollister clothing. Simon wasn't exactly that type, but he was hard to ignore. With his to-die-for green eyes and his quirky smile, he was the type that usually had every girl, no matter what their type was, drooling at his feet. But of course he didn't seem to notice.

"Yeah, if you like to deal with the kind that care about nothing, save themselves."

"That's not always a bad thing."

"Maybe to you, but not to me."

"Well we all know how you are Daisy," Chloe chimed in at Zoey's defense.

Of course they did. They all had been teasing me about it for the past three years. I was the kind of person that didn't date. I had close friends, but nothing more. No strings attached. Once upon a time I did have a boyfriend, but that had only made me lose faith in the male species even more. He was the son of one of my dad's co-workers. We had practically grown up together, which was also a problem in our relationship. It felt to weird to be in a relationship with someone that you played in a sandbox with. But still, I had tried to push past that.

At the time that we were going out I was beginning to feel the pressure from my peers to date. It was my sophomore year, and just about all of my friends had a boyfriend. So when Jake asked me out, I accepted. Which I knew would be disastrous. Why I agreed to it, I still have no idea. But I found out, the week before Christmas that he was cheating on me, so I dropped him like a hot potato.

"Yeah, we all know how I am," I acknowledged almost in a daze.

The camp counselor, a tall guy in his mid-twenties came at precisely four o'clock, as promised. Everyone was summoned to the dining room where we sat on the table, since we had yet to figure out where they had hidden the chairs.

He passed out music to everyone. It was a part one from the Incredibles; a show that I had heard performed last year and I actually somewhat had liked. "You can practice music until ten every night, but after ten all instruments go up so the cabins around you can get some sleep. Curfew and lights-out time is at your sponsor's discretion, but basically everything on the campus closes around midnight. Feel free to go anywhere you like. We have hiking trails around everywhere, but we are not liable for any accidents, unless it is, of course on the ropes course. The ropes course is up toward the top of the mountain if you have signed the medical releases for that. One of the counselors will come by every morning at seven to give you an itinerary for the day. You are required to participate in every activity unless you are sick or disabled in anyway. You will be doing everything amongst other schools, but for the most part, you and your partner will only get ranked within your group or school. You guys should have provided your own food, correct?"

"Correct," Ms. Morrison said.

"Alrighty. Well does anyone have any questions?"

Monica raised her hand, "Do you know what kinds of things we'll be doing?"

"A lot of things really. They're all team-building activities. What we're trying to do is teach you, not only to be a better leader, but also be a better follower. We're trying to teach you how to work with one another and be solidly unified."

Monica had that you-told-me-exactly-everything-I-already-knew look on her face.

"Do we need to memorize the music?" Keaton inquired.

"Yes, you will need to have it memorized by Wednesday."

"Wednesday?" I was shocked. "That gives us two days to memorize it."

Simon stepped up beside me. "What, you think you can't do it D?"

My eyes narrowed as he hinted at the challenge.

"Sorry it's such a short time, but that's all the time we can give you since you will only be here a week."

"Two days is all I need," I said, only looking at Simon.

It seemed like an eternity before the counselor spoke again, "Well, fabulous. Be ready to work at seven tomorrow!"

And with that, he left.

We were all thoroughly convinced that there were things in the cabins that the camp itself was hiding from us, like chairs for example. There was a table, there had to be chairs. So, we all went on a scavenger hunt for our hidden things.

What else were we to do though? We were stuck in the middle of nowhere with nothing but each other and our instruments to keep us occupied. So, we got creative. Of course Ms. Morrison thought the idea was stupid, so she sat on her bed, reading a harlequin, paying no attention to us whatsoever.

The cabin was so small, that it was hard to think that there could be somewhere inside where they would put things. Maybe there was a mystery closet that we had yet to discover? Nonetheless, we did not lose heart.

I teamed up with Keaton on the hunt for the hiding place. He had me practically rolling on the floor, the entire time, with laughter.

"Da-doot. Da-doot. Da-doot, Da-doot, da-doot, da-doot. Da-dooooot-ta-to-da-do." He hummed the Pink Panther Theme as he mockingly sneaked around corners, holding his hand as if it were a gun.

"You know what? I could go get my sax and play that for you if you'd like," I laughed.

He turned back around to me, "Show off."

I sniggered at the thought.

We were in the kitchen and he was constantly looking in cabinets and shelves.

"I hate to burst your bubble here Keaton, but I really don't think they would hide chairs in cupboards," I joked.

"Valid point," he agreed.

He sighed and jumped up on the counter top. "Maybe they wanted us to be like Japanese people. You know? Sit on the floor and all?"

Then we heard the victory cries emanating from the girls' dorm.

"We found them!" I heard Seth shout.

"And games too!" Monica added.

"Games? What kind of games?" Keaton and I were trying to get in there as fast we could.

Keaton slid across the linoleum through the dining room with his socks, and practically face-planted into the wall. But, to my surprise, he safely navigated the turn into the girls' dorm.

"Who would stuff up there?" Chloe asked sarcastically. Monica was up on the top of the bunk beds, pulling things out from the rafters of the ceiling. The ceiling in the rooms was completely open so you could see the rafters, but where the dining room was, was enclosed. I jumped up and looked over the edge. You could see all the way across the cabin to the boys' dorm. It was the most odd thing I think I've ever seen. And there, laying on the dining room ceiling were chairs, games, and other dark object that I couldn't quite make out.

I jumped down off of the bed just in time for everyone to come into the room. I heard Ms. Morrison groan, saw her roll her eyes, and then she sulked out of the room, carrying her pack of cigarettes and harlequin with her.

"Maybe they wanted us to use our brains?" Felix suggested.

"Or maybe they wanted us to make it a 'team' effort," Hugo rolled his eyes as he mocked the camp counselor.

"Twister!" Marcus shouted as he came down off of the beds, carrying a few brown, metal chairs and a Twister box with him.

Zoey shrieked, "I want to play!"

We all jumped with excitement at the thought of games. We were going to actually have something to do!

"Well, we're going to have to take turns with Twister. How about four people on the mat, one person calling the positions off, and the everyone else could play Sequence or something?" Marcus suggested.

"Who's going first?" Felix asked.

"I want to," Zoey said.

"Me too," Chloe added.

Heck, why not? I might as well, "And me."

"And me," Simon spoke up from behind me.

I rolled my eyes and sighed where no one could see. "'Kay, I'll call it off." Marcus announced.

Hugo, Seth, Monica, Felix, and Keaton were already pulling Uno Attack out of its box and setting it up on the table.

"Left foot, blue." Marcus said.

Who came up with the game Twister? Whoever they are they must have a messed up mind. I mean, how do you think of something like that? "Okay, so I have this idea for a game. You have colored dots everywhere and a spinney board thing with body parts and colors on it. Whatever color and body part is landed on by the spinner, you have to stick said body part on said color. The object of the game is to be the last one who doesn't fall. It should be pretty funny to watch the morons try to do that one!" Like I said, whoever they were must have a sick mind.

"Right hand, red."

The beginning is always the easiest; as is with most things. It's after you put other things into the mix that things get complicated. Once you have at least one hand and one foot down on the mat, then it gets tricky.

"Right foot, red."

The form had not gotten too bad yet.

“Left hand, yellow,” and with that Chloe fell over.

“You’re out,” Marcus stated.

The way I was standing I hardly looked like a human figure. My hands were criss-crossed one on each far side of the mat, and my legs were spread fairly far apart, but were not yet criss-crossed.

“Right foot, green.”

Moving my foot without falling was hard. I wobbled more than once and it took me several seconds before I finally managed to move.

“You got it Daisy?” Marcus asked.

“You know you could always just give up D,” Simon retorted.

“I’m fine. If you don’t shut up I’m going to push you over,” I said angrily.

“Then you would lose also.”

I managed to turn my head towards him. “It would be well worth it.”

“Alright you two are we going to play or not?

“Left foot, yellow.” As soon as he called out the command I heard the thump of Zoey’s
body hitting the floor.

“You’re out Zoe.

“Left hand, blue.” I had to reach underneath me to get a blue dot because Simon stole the one that I was going for. He most likely took that one on purpose, but I nonetheless was still standing.

“Left foot, red.” He, once again, stole the most convenient spot for my foot, so I ended up snaking my foot around and onto the red dot in the very corner of the mat.

If he was going to play dirty, so was I.

I prepared myself to move as soon as possible.

“Right foot, blue.” I quickly moved my foot underneath him and touched the farthest blue circle that I could reach, the one that I saw he was moving for. He put his foot on top of mine, which made him slide off, falling straight on his face.

“Daisy wins!” Marcus announced.

I stood up and looked down at Simon, saying, “Serves you right.”

He laughed, “Touche.”