Day 13.

*Band room. A hundred and eight degrees. Cal is late*

KEVIN:Hey Cal, get out to the fields, we're doing basics block and then setting drill. Here's the charts, are you memorized yet? Just kidding, sort of.

CAL: *aside* No one has ever talked this fast. Not on the radio. Not when calling 911. Not with the threat of torture.

BEN: Hey, quietpants, what's up?

CAL: Uh good, I'm good.

BEN: Haha, alright man.

CAL runs out to the field, where everyone is trying to be at attention. HAL is counting off. On 8, most people take the first step. MS. STEPHENS paces around.

MS. STEPHENS: LEFT, right, LEFT, CAL-- LEFT! You are not SAUNTERING, you are not SAUCILY SWAYING OVER TO YOUR BEAU ON THE LACY CANOPY BED, YOU ARE MARCHING *drops voice* And you will look like it.

CAL*whisper*: Isn't she kind of overdoing the whole... history in the Marines thing?

DIANA: Navy SEAL.

MS STEPHENS: Here is an interesting fact. Birds, yes, some of them do appear to be in the sky above you, can migrate thousands of miles to from summer breeding areas to winter grounds. Do you THINK *she whips around* that if they were FACING THE WRONG DIRECTION they would MAKE IT? NO, NO THEY WOULD NOT, AND PBS WOULD NOT MAKE A DOCUMENTARY ABOUT THEM EITHER, UNLESS IT WAS IN MEMORY OF THE FALLEN CORPSE AND THAT WOULD BE ON LATE BECAUSE PEOPLE KEEP WRITING ABOUT HOW DEATH UPSETS THE CHILDREN. For god's sake, Riley, look at everyone else.

Okay. The first game is this Friday. Are we ready? I will answer that. No. Does it matter? I will also answer that. Yes.

RILEY: Really?

MS STEPHENS: No. Get the fuck on your water break, we're going to run through what we're going to do.

CAL jogs off the field, trying to get the 6/8 time firmly down. He trips over a girl (SOFIA) sitting against the side of the bathroom, notices her clammy, sweaty, panicked look. His internal struggle/consternation is clear.

CAL: Uh..

SOFIA: What?

CAL: Nothing. I mean. Are you okay?

SOFIA: Well I just vomited in that corner and there's a kid who always sits there texting his long distance girlfriend at lunch so I feel pretty shitty about that but--

CAL: That, uh, that sucks, do you need water?

SOFIA: Just need to sit for a minute. I would normally apologize for the, babbling, but it's strangely freeing, I've discovered.

CAL: Well that's.... good. Feel free to keep going--

SOFIA: Hah--

CAL: I'm one of those people who like listening.

SOFIA: Yeah?

CAL: Yeah. You learn a lot.

SOFIA: Like what?

CAL: Like when everyone's trying to be quiet, but their little ticks show everything.

SOFIA: You're one of those people-watchers, aren't you? Inventing histories for fun?

CAL: I know it sounds creepy, but it's more like... being a detective.

SOFIA: You've switched schools a lot, haven't you?

CAL: It shows?

SOFIA: Well, it must have upsides... like learning names quickly, or finding... entertainment even where most would succumb to the deepest depths of boredom-sleep.

CAL: Or never having friends.

SOFIA: Or that.

CAL: So I think break's probably over.

SOFIA: I'm playing Hide and Seek with Ms. Stephens. It's her favorite game (she winks)

CAL: Why did that not come off as convincing?

SOFIA: Because you're a suspicious, paranoid hyperalert future stalker in the making?

CAL: Don't hold back, really, we know each other too well for that.

SOFIA: What's my name?

CAL: Girl who vomits in corners?

SOFIA: (grimaces) I'll try not to make a habit of it, cause that's not nearly badass enough for a nickname.. Cal.

CAL: Who's learning names quickly now?

SOFIA: Still you.

CAL: Well I have a lot of other stuff to learn. And no time to pick it up.

SOFIA: Yeah, game's this friday, but competition's not for months.

CAL: Does marching band seem like a very... arbitrary thing to devote so much time to?

SOFIA: What, you mean how, starting with football, a collection of inane quasi-denied homoerotic rituals --

CAL: --touchdown (raises an eyebrow)

SOFIA: Touche!-- and then we support them by dressing up in military-inspired uniform and playing pop tunes from twenty years ago because a) the rights are less expensive and 2) it pleases the parents freezing their asses off in the crowded stands--

CAL: But it makes sense if you think about music.

SOFIA: When do I *not* think about music?

CAL: Because nobody would cry in movies if not for music. It's this-- this motivating force that pulls them out of their comfort zone of living day to day surface life banalities, and into this deeper place.

SOFIA: You're saying when people hear "Funky Town" they're thinking about abstract concepts.

CAL: What about memories or regrets?

SOFIA: When you go to funky town, I don't think you have regrets.

CAL: Regrets of not going to funky town?

SOFIA: After this year, you won't have em.

CAL: Is that a promise?(holds out his hand to help her up)

SOFIA: (takes it, springs up on her own anyway) Get back on the field, One Who Is Surprisingly Audible Once Not Being Inaudible.

Back in basics block. Cal is listening, closes his eyes. The stage is dark, in patches of light, people sing what Cal thinks he can tell from the smallest signs.

HAL: The view is different from up here

up a few feet but away a few miles

some times i feel

like i'm fluttering my hands to stop a train

does what i do reach them

do they even look up from that turf

does it affect them

my arms are fucking sore

This is the last time!

what if i get an erection?

This podium

tells all

Will I fall?

SOFIA: (looking at Ben) The last time

I've called him for the last time

We're over and done

now, we were before we'd begun

now but still

something's lacking

why is it bad ideas are so distracting?

no more sneaking out

no more calling late

no more turnabout

i'm queasy and irate

i won't admire your rollstep or flawless horn snap a-ny-more

gotta get my feet in time

this

last time...

TUBAS: (stage whisper) So I heard from my friend, their band director once had them rehearse in a thunderstorm. One of the tubas got struck by lightning and they said he lit up the whole stadium. His mother had to vacuum his ashes from the astroturf.

MELLOPHONES: I heard this mello at McKinley tripped, knocked out his two front teeth, and kept marching the show without getting out of step. They had to reattach his palate afterwards though...

TROMBONES: I heard at this one school in Wisconsin? The trombone suicides? Actually *were*.

MS STEPHENS: BAND TEN HUT!

The last time

I swear it's for the last time

But it's not quite right just yet so

one more time

The last of the last times

God please at least try

Don't sigh at me

We're not done yet

Reset!

The last time...

Fade to black.