Like You Mean It

34. Cam

Nationals were here. We were the first band to go. I was about to puke up my breakfast on the track at 1 pm. My hands were shaking. This was the third time I had performed on the national stage but somehow this felt like the worst time.

Because you're not good enough. I won the regional soloist award.

You didn't practice enough, you'll let them all down. I practiced to the point of breaking open callus after callus, blister after blister. I dedicated the better part of the past four months to this moment.

Not enough. Never enough. You've never been enough. I am. I am enough. I have done enough. I deserve to be here.

"Cam?" I turned to see Nick looking at me, "Stop being a little bitch."

We both laughed as the National Anthem began to play, literally unable to stop ourselves and hiding our laughter behind our left hands. Nick always knew how to get me to laugh. When the National Anthem ended, we prepared to march on.

I turned to Nick, "It's been a pleasure serving with you, soldier." I saluted.

They laughed, "You too, soldier. Let's die on the battlefield together in glory."

I laughed as Tom gave Nick the all-clear to tap the band on.

We entered the field. The crowd was huge, bands from across the country filled the stadium's seats in a rainbow sea. I could see the Lovell purple and white in the middle of the stadium. Hayden was somewhere in that crowd. Which reassured me along with Nick's ever-constant presence near me on the field.

Tom saluted. He raised his arms.

And we performed.

--

It was the best we had ever done. It was marginally better than regionals last week. It was everything we could have possibly put into the show. It was the maximum effort and greatest performance we could've given.

Tom was crying. Tom never cried but Tom was crying. Jane was holding back tears. Abbie was shaking. Nick was panting next to me. I was about to collapse, my heart was pounding in my chest so hard I thought it might break my ribcage. My chest hurt and I was going to lose my breakfast if I didn't lie down within the next five minutes.

The stadium erupted in cheers. We basked in the glory.

We marched off to screams. It was wonderful.

Everyone headed back to the trucks in a sense of awe. Seniors were crying, some juniors were crying. A lot of freshmen were in shock. And my heart was fucking pounding in my chest harder than I had ever felt it before and I was so close to puking my guts out on the pavement. That meant it was a good ass performance though. It also meant that I might've pushed myself a bit too hard. And that I was probably having an arrythmia attack.

So, I dismounted and puked into a nearby trashcan. I felt considerably better after I did that. I would definitely need to get something in me soon to recover my blood sugar levels but the puking made me feel weirdly better. My heart was still hammering in my chest.

"Cam, lie down!" Tom shouted, his voice shaky but stern.

"Yes sir." I tore my jacket and shako off, laying them over my quads, and then laid down in the grassy field by the trucks.

"Alright, Cam?" Nick asked.

"My heart is going wild dude, give me like ten minutes," I called.

"Dude, you better not have a heart attack. That would just be embarrassing this late in the season." They laughed and I flipped them off.

"I will not have a heart attack because of finals. I think I should take an Aspirin though, just in case." I groaned.

"You really overdid it, man. Mom is gonna kill you if you end up in the hospital in Indianapolis." Tom groaned as he opened the med bag and checked his phone, "Jesus Christ, that's your heart rate?"

"What is it?" I asked.

"High enough for you to be banned from talking!" Tom exclaimed.

He sent Goose over, "Tom said to give you this and pour the rest of the water on your face." He was holding a bottle of water and two Aspirin.

I took the Aspirin and handed Goose back the water. He tipped it down and I felt the relief of ice-cold water being poured on my face. I really overdid it. Worth it though, totally and completely worth it.

"Gabby, if there are any pictures of me on your phone right now, they better not be sent to Hayden or else," I warned.

"You're like five minutes too late dude." She laughed from further away.

I groaned. Lying down in the grass had helped though. And the cold water. And taking off my jacket and shako.

"Ok Cam, normal sinus and heart rate!" Tom called.

I got back up, shockingly not dizzy this time, "We're alive!"

"Thank god." Nick grinned, "Because someone has to put your drum away and I'm not doing it."

I did put my own drum away then saved myself a seat at the top of the Valley section next to an empty Lovell seat. All of the Lovell seats were empty because they were warming up, but still.

"Nick, wanna go grab food?" I asked.

"Hell yeah." They grinned.

--

We missed seven bands just waiting in line at the singular vendor that was open for the stadium full of people. But we managed to be in our seats with my nachos and Nick's disgusting-looking chili dog as Lovell marched on. They were the second to last band of the night and it was nearly 9 pm already.

I watched intently as they marched on. Jace had opted not to change his salute, thank God. I didn't even want to know why he would consider that this late in the season. He, Maddy, and Logan raised their arms in unison and the show began.

--

Their show was stunning. It was better every time I watched it. It blew me away honestly. I didn't even care if we lost to them at this point, I was just so blown away with how far they'd come over the course of the season. Improving every week by a landslide, always giving us a run for our money, a challenge, a goal to beat.

"They were great." I grinned.

"Yeah." Nick nodded, "Not enough to beat us though."

"Of course not." I shook my head.

We both chuckled to ourselves, not really bothering to pay attention to the final band. All that mattered was that we had made it to nationals and performed the best we could. And that Nick remembered their drum and all the corresponding parts. And that Goose only dropped one stick during the performance, which was a season record for him. So he would be getting a gold star, even though he was in dead last place on our stick wall of shame.

--

Hayden sat down next to me, exhausted, as intermission came closer and closer to a close before awards, "I am so freaking sweaty."

"Yes, you are." I laughed, "You missed me puking in a trashcan, having to take Aspirin in case I had a heart attack, and getting water dumped on my face because my heart rate was way too high."

"No, I got the pictures from Gabby." He grinned.

"Including the trashcan puking?" I asked.

He nodded, "Including the trashcan puking."

I groaned, "If it makes you feel any better, I brushed my teeth after. There was a new toothbrush and toothpaste in our medical kit for some reason."

"It does." He kissed me gently.

"You didn't sweat away the make-up." I pointed out.

"Oh, thank god." He sighed in relief.

I laughed, threading our hands together, "You guys did fantastic."

"So did you guys." He grinned.

"It's up to the judges now I guess."

"Yeah."