Chapter 1: Hopes Dashed and Futures Promised

The Marine smiled silently as he walked down the brown tiled hallway.

He glanced at the posters on the wall, dozens of identical blue and green anti-tobacco posters, a variety of posters advertising an upcoming bake sale being held by the Fellowship of Christian Athletes with the proceeds going to tornado victims, handmade posters and banners praising and encouraging the senior high girls basketball team (which, according to school scuttlebutt, would be competing in the regional tournament this week) and white posters promoting one of the school's history teachers as the best choice for the Presidency of the United States (a joke obviously originating in a computer class).

He stared incredulously at the class photos that lined the hallway near the ceiling, from visiting the school before, he knew that some of the photos dated back to the 1930's.

He ventured farther into the hall and stopped to look at a small trophy case.

Two plaques on the bottom shelf honored the school band's performance at a festival in Washington, DC, he knew that the band had other plaques in the band room.

All arranged chronologically, underneath photos of the band that had won that particular award, from the past three years, since the current director arrived.

Along with the photos with awards, a special photo hung over the director's desk of the band performing in front of the U.S. Capital building in Washington, DC, this past summer.

As a former trumpeter, he had asked the school's counselor if he could go and listen to the band practice on his first visit.

He liked the band director, Mr. Bill Boucher, pronounced boo-shay, a solidly built, expressive man with a short temper and a thick Louisiana accent.

His eyes ventured up to the top shelf, lined with quiz bowl trophies, the largest of which had been won by the junior high team year before last, first place in regionals.

He glanced at the glass pane in front of the principal's office, noticing the Bible Club's Jesus Christ/Superman tee shirt, "Now on Sale", ah, small-town Bible-Belt, but looked on to his reflection. He studied his face as he remembered his first visit to this school.

He had been standing outside, leaning on a wooden fence, watching the students enjoing their break. He was laughing at a couple of seventh grade boys chasing a seventh grade girl around with one of the boy's gym shoes when a raspy voice behind him asked, "You a Marine?". The Marine turned around to see a tall, thin older boy with a dark, Hispanic-looking skin tone and black hair buzzed close to his scalp. "Yeah, I am. Lance Corporal Daniel Stewart, you?" the Marine extended his hand. "Justin Spencer," the boy said, shaking Daniel's hand, "I'm a senior here." thinking about joining the Marines, Justin?" Daniel asked with a smile.

Justin avoided Daniel's eyes and stared off into nothingness, "I was," he replied distantly. "Was?" Daniel questioned, smile faltering.

"Yeah, I couldn't cut it. I've got a juvenile record, when I enlisted I was a minor...I just couldn't stand to wait...It was nothing big, they called it arson, but it was just an old barn...a little petty theft and shoplifting here and there...nothing big. I've moved past that. I'm done with my life of crime. I signed up with the National Guard, I wanna be an M.P...I leave in six months...right after I graduate...," Justin answered softly.

"Well, if it's any consolation, I think you'd've been a great Marine," Daniel said, patting Justin's shoulder.

"Thanks...You'll get my friend, David, he'll be a good Marine. His brother's a jarhead," Justin said as he turned to leave.

As the day went by Daniel talked, in turn, to a science teacher, a math teacher, an art teacher, an English teacher, a history teacher, both basketball coaches and both counselors. They gave him recommendations on which students in the junior class he should meet with, but all through the day he couldn't stop thinking about his conversation with Justin.

Daniel returned to the school the next month to meet with the students he had selected. There were nineteen in all, eight boys and eleven girls.

He stood at the front of the room to address them, "Good morning. I'm Lance Corporal Daniel Stewart with the United States Marine Corps. I'd like to start off by getting to know each of you. Let's go around the room, tell your name and something that you like to do. Starting with...you," Daniel pointed to a boy in the front row of desks.

The boy was tall and thick with short blond hair, but long wavy bangs. "'K. I'm Jessie Landers, I like to play baseball."

The boy nest to him was about six inches shorter with shorter, blonder hair, "I'm Brandon Van Winkle and I like to ride four wheelers."

The next boy was tall and thin with short honey-colored hair, "I'm Jordan Lyons. I like to hunt."

The boy next to him was a little shorter and thicker with short, light brown hair, "My name's Thomas Gray, call me Tom. I like to show cattle."

A girl sat next to Tom, she was thin and athletic-looking with wavy blond hair, "My name is Samantha Peel, but call me Sammy. I like to play basketball."

A tall, thin girl sat next to Sammy, she had long blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, "I am Sarah Bailey...and I like to play basketball."

The girl next to Sarah had long, wavy dark hair, with a prominent widow's peak, pulled back into a ponytail, "Hi, I'm Kayla Smith and I play basketball."

"Good. Now, second row," Daniel prompted.

The first girl on the second row was thin and quiet-looking with long honey-colored hair and braces, "I'm Nora Townsend and I like to cheer."

Next to Nora was a thin, pale girl with curly, red hair, "I'm Logan Clayton and I like to cheer, too." The next girl was thin, pale and had shoulder-length dark hair, "I'm Emily Miller and I like...to do...stuff...I dunno..."

The next girl had a round face and long brown hair, "Hi, I'm Ashley Webb and I like to play guitar." Next to her was a dark-complected girl with short, black, Joan Jett-style hair, "Um...hi...I'm Stasha Haile...and I like...to read, I guess..."

A tall, solid girl sat next to Stasha, she had wavy, honey-colored hair, "I'm Taylor Norton. I like to play softball."

"Great. You there, in the back," Daniel motioned.

A boy in the back row, slouched lazily in his seat, with short, white-blond hair said, "I'm Dakota Presley, I like to play paintball."

Next to him was a scrawny boy with shoulder-length brown hair that stuck out at the sides, "My name is Cody Edwards. I like to play trumpet."

To the right of Cody was an overweight, tall boy with short, spiky black hair, "I am Jeremiah McCollum and I like nothing that is not video games."

Next to Jeremiah was a short girl with shoulder-length auburn hair, "I'm Sydney Carter, I like to paint."

Next to Sydney was a thin by with bad skin and short, crimson hair, "Hey, my name's uh...Jackson Harper...and...uh...I like to uh...I like to skateboard."

The last person in the room was an overweight girl with jet-black spiky-hair who dressed like a goth, "Hey, I'm Charlotte Campbell and I like...I like to talk."

The meeting was short and by the end of it Daniel knew who wasn't interested in enlisting: Stasha, Jeremiah, Sydney, Charlotte, Jackson and Emily;

and who would be really considering it: Jessie, Brandon, Jordan, Dakota and Cody.

He had almost forgot about Justin when a voice from next to him said, "Five more months, Lance Corporal." By the time Daniel realized who it was and turned around, Justin was already halfway down the hall.

Having been standing in the middle of the hallway for quite some time, when someone addressed him, he jumped.

"Need something, Lance Corporal Stewart?" a soothing voice asked.

He turned to see a maternal-looking, middle-aged woman, perhaps in her midfourties to early fifties, with spiky, red hair.

"Actually, yes, Mrs. Lewis. I was wondering if I might could speak with...," Daniel consulted his notepad, "Jessie Landers, Brandon Van Winkle, Jordan Lyons, Dakota Presley and Cody Edwards?"

"Of course, Lance Corporal," Mrs. Lewis said, leading him into the principal's office.

"Please, call me Daniel," he smiled, following her.

When Daniel was done talking to the students, he stepped outside.

It was early March and the air was beginning to warm up.

It had been two months since he had last been here, three months since he had talked to Justin. He was hoping to get a chance to speak with Justin today, but he left in thirty minutes so he knew the odds of seeing him were slim.

Just as he was about to give up and go back inside, he heard a door slam open at the agriculture shop across the lawn.

He looked up and saw Justin taking long, angry strides away from the building, he spotted Daniel and changed his route.

"Lance Corporal Stewart!" Justin called.

"Daniel. Call me Daniel," Daniel said, "What's wrong?"

"I...I don't know...it's just...I was in there welding...and I...I...I just had to get out of there...," Justin said panting, "...I'm just so worried...about going...over there...I'm scared...I've only got three more months here..."

"Justin, I'm going camping next week, Spring Break, in the Ozark National Forest. Really roughing it, tent and all. Would you like to come with me and we'll figure this thing out together?" Daniel offered.

"That'd be great," Justin said, smiling.

Yes, all the students and staff are based on real people. Daniel is not. The school is based on my own (and the girls team is going to state!). Please review! I like constructive criticism but don't chew me out, please! Oh! and the NCIS people come in in the next chapter. I do own all these guys so I didn't post a disclaimer.