Before we ever actually conduct a single measure, the entire section leader squad and drum major squad are forming a new plan.
“They have no idea what to do now,” Jim mutters.
“Absolutely none,” I agree.
Dr. Kimball steps onto the field. “I want to hear from each of you why you think the other should be head drum major.”
Jim and I exchange a surprised glance.
He steps forward first. “You’ve already heard it from me. The Marching Miners have been stuck in the past. Even though the band is made up of predominantly female members, we’ve never had a female drum major. It’s time to say good-bye to the good ole boys’ club and move into the future. We’re already behind the times because we weren’t the first collegiate band in the country to select a woman as head drum major. We need strong female leadership to pave the way for the next generation of female bandies.”
I shake my head. His heart is in the right place for sure, but he’s still missing the bigger picture.
I step forward. “While I admire Jimbo’s egalitarian ideals, this is the wrong way to go about it. The head drum major position should be what it’s always been. An accomplishment only the best of the best can achieve. Feminism isn’t putting a woman in this position simply to even the odds. Real feminism is a woman earning this position because she’s beaten the odds by being given a fair chance to compete with the men around her. The band deserves the best head drum major from their ranks regardless of gender. Jimbo loves band. He’s devoted to the band. If he hadn’t campaigned for me, most of you would have voted for him. I would have voted for him.”
“What are you doing?” he hisses out of the side of his mouth. “If you wanted a fair fight, this is not the way to get it.”
“Fighting for you,” I reply. “Doting on you. Showing you I think you’re more special than you believe you are.”
He casts his gaze to the turf, shaking his head as a smile toys with his lips. His shoulders rise with a deep inhale before he raises his head. “You know what? Fuck it,” he mutters before he shouts loud enough for everyone in the stadium to hear. “I should be head drum major. I give music lessons to little kids, for Christ’s sake! I’m the ITK president! And if I’m head drum major, then other guys in the stands aren’t going to add Sophie doing a backbend in her skirt during pregame to their spank banks!” He points at Ty, who’s doubled over with laughter with the rest of the band. “And assholes like you won’t offer the woman I love their best dicking when they think she’s in a bad mood. You haven’t seen her in a bad mood, trust me.”
He is seriously the worst feminist ever.
Shannon agrees. She yells from the sideline, “You are the worst feminist ever, you caveman!”
From somewhere in the sandwich of trumpets, Emily calls, “Get him, Sophia!”
So, I do.
I literally do. His body meets the turf with a dull thud when I tackle him to the ground. Who cares what the band and the staff think of this reality show? The fact is, I’ve missed touching him more than I’ve enjoyed making him sweat.
“You really are the worst feminist alive even though you try.”
He laughs as he swipes my hair behind my ear. “Yeah, but you love me because I always try.”
“I do,” I murmur as I brush my lips against his. “I love you, James Fossoway. I love you, even when you don’t try. I love you because you’re you.”
He grins before he raises his head from the turf to return my kiss. His skull thumps back to the ground when we need air. He raises his fist up. “Jimbo for head DM, so no other dudes will be tempted to fantasize about what’s mine!”
“You’re ridiculous.” I roll my eyes.
He grins. “You love that I’m ridiculous.”
Dr. Kimball frowns down at us. “Sophia’s still head DM. I’m not changing the press releases. And I would appreciate it if you two could put your private life on the back burner, so it’s not a distraction to the band for the rest of the season.”
“Why not? A good reality show is healthy motivation,” I quip.
“I’m not sure your relationship is entirely healthy.” He walks away.
“I think it is,” I tell a smiling Jim. “We refuse to accept anything but the best of each other. We keep the beat.”
“I am going to challenge you for the rest of your life,” he swears. “Your heartbeat, I am definitely keeping.”
“That’s … kind of weird but also weirdly endearing. Bring it, baby.”
Epilogue
James
“Ty’s really good,” Sophie murmurs, her sparkling green eyes fixed on the current act onstage.
“Yeah, I know. I’ve seen his band before.”
She swivels her head toward me with a raised eyebrow that screams suspicion. “That’s it? You’re not going to threaten to shove his drumsticks where the sun doesn’t shine?”
“Has he threatened to give you his best dicking recently?”
Even with the house lights down and the stage lights up, her blush is noticeable. She’s gotten a lot better with handling public embarrassment, but there’s just something about still being able to rile her up that riles me up. I adjust my dick in my pants. It’s going to be a long night if I keep torturing myself this way.
Her lips brush seductively against my ear when she leans in to whisper, “Don’t be jealous. I’ve told you before, no one has ever given me a better dicking than you do.”
That is not necessarily what I want to hear. The little caveman who lives in my brain roars with jealousy. “You’ve slept with Ty before?”
She laughs as she pats my shoulder. “No, but you should see the look of horror on your face right now.”
These are not the kinds of challenges I enjoy. Most creative way to deliver an orgasm to each other? Yes. Talk of sleeping with other people? Not so much.
“And you should see the people trying to get in the door right now.”
She glances at the main entrance, where, sure enough, a group huddles just outside the doorway, peering in through the glass. “What the hell? The show started two hours ago.”
Sophie might be better at dealing with humiliation, but she’s still as anal retentive as she’s ever been. Everything in its right place is her motto, and I’ve grown to love this side of her, too. We balance the negative pieces of our personalities and always challenge each other to turn those traits into positives.
“If they’re willing to pay, don’t turn them away,” I tell her.
She smirks as she rises from her seat to address the issue. “Cute. I’ll be sure to remember that.”
“You should,” I insist. “The show runs until six a.m. I doubt these are going to be the only people who decide to randomly pop in. If it increases our profit, then bend the rules.”
“Fine.” She sighs. “I’ll bend, but I won’t break. I’m still not admitting anyone who’s visibly intoxicated if they decide to show up here after they’re done partying for the night.”
“I’m not saying you should break the rules, sweetheart. Just be flexible if it’s in our best interest.” I grab her hand and kiss her open palm before letting her go take care of business.