by M. L. Rice
Riley nodded.
“Now. I think not being able to practice for a few weeks is punishment enough.”
Riley winced at the thought of being left without the solace of her music.
“And don’t worry. Those girls won’t get off as easily.” Ms. Suzanne smiled, patted Riley on the knee, and left the room.
Riley collapsed back into the couch and threw the remnants of her useless bow across the room. What was she going to tell Aidan?
Unlike Riley, he had found his niche as a loud and gregarious jock. He had joined the high school’s varsity football team as a sophomore and, now that he was a senior, he played as a starting linebacker. He had grown into a tall, muscular, and handsome young man just like their father had been and, despite the fact that he was poor and still living in a group home, his effervescent personality and winning charm gained him many friends, and he kept a string of lovesick girls waiting in the wings, all vying for his attentions. Riley enjoyed watching him compete on the field, and he, in turn, loved to lie back on the couch and listen as she played her cello. He was big and he was tough, but he was still a loving, caring, and gentle big brother who would do anything for Riley.
While Aidan had been bulking up and becoming one of the most popular guys in their small San Antonio suburb, Riley had immersed herself in her music by joining first her junior high orchestra and, now that she was a sophomore, her high school orchestra as well as the local youth symphony. She was always first chair in every ensemble and easily passed the auditions for the regional and then state ensembles. She figured there was something to be said for her obsession, even to the detriment of social interactions.
She did have acquaintances, and even a few friends, in orchestra, and things were actually going fairly well for her when she was away from the Home. She liked school and was in the top percentile of her class. Of course, Aidan was always pushing her to do better. He was obsessed with the idea that she could make something of herself. She never wanted to disappoint him, so she let him help her with her homework every week and accepted it when he would get angry with her lack of interest in the boring subjects, wanting only to feel a cello resting against her ribs.
“Riley, you seriously have to know this stuff. It’s on the SAT.” He slammed his hand down on the open book in front of her to get her attention because her eyes had wandered yet again over to the sheet music for Bach’s “Bourrée Suite No. 3.”
She jumped and glared at him, but said, “I know, I know. When in the hell am I ever going to use the Pythagorean Theorem, though? I mean seriously. How many right triangles am I going to run into just begging to have their hypotenuse figured out?”
Aidan pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “That’s not the point.”
“Ha!”
“What?”
“The point…triangle…never mind.”
He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You can’t pin everything on being a professional musician you know. It’s not easy, and most people don’t have the talent or the willpower to make it.”
Riley glared at him. “Are you saying I don’t have the talent or willpower?”
He sighed. “No. I’m not. I think you can do anything you set your mind to and you know that I’m your biggest fan. But nothing in life is guaranteed. You know that. I mean look at us.” He gestured to the activity room that had become their refuge. “This isn’t the lap of luxury. We have nothing. No money to go to college, no money period, no way out. Unless we get scholarships. You have to be great on your cello, yes, but you have to do well in school too. And you have to get high marks on your SAT.”
The earnestness in his face made her hang her head in shame. He was right. She had no choice but to do her best in order to get a scholarship to a good music school. If she didn’t…well, she didn’t want to think about that.
She took a deep breath. “A squared plus B squared equals C squared. Right?”
He laughed and brushed back his shaggy light brown hair. “Yeah, that’s right. Good girl.”
“Thank you, sir. May I have my cookie now?” She batted her eyes at him with sarcastic saccharine in her voice.
“Don’t make me smack you, young lady.”
“Psh. I could take you.” She took a light swing at him, which he batted away easily.
“Riiight. How about we work on getting you into a good college instead of your uppercut?”
Riley smiled and put on a fake ditzy accent. “Fine. But only because flipping burgers will be like, totally bad for my complexion.”
Aidan rolled his eyes, but smiled and tapped her math book with a thick and calloused finger. “Math. Go.”
*
Riley looked over at the girl sitting next to Aidan in the audience. She was a pretty blonde, gazing up at him with stars in her eyes. Riley gave him a small thumbs-up from her seat next to the conductor on the stage. He laughed and winked.
This was her first major concert with the youth symphony, and he had brought a date. Riley could tell that the young woman couldn’t care less about musical culture but was dying to impress Aidan. It made Riley smile. He was going to be such a lady-killer.
Soon the applause died down, and the conductor turned and lifted his baton into the air. Riley placed her bow on her strings, and with one swift downward movement, the forceful first notes of “Farandole” by Bizet filled the large room. Riley lost herself in the music, as she did every time she played. She became part of the fast-paced rhythm as her fingers flew over the strings of the secondhand cello she had used since childhood. When the song ended the audience erupted in applause, and she could see Aidan and his date, Brittany, smiling at her from the second row. She could get used to performing. There were worse ways to spend her time than being applauded by a room full of music lovers.
After the concert, she, Aidan, Brittany, and five of her fellow youth orchestra members all went out to eat Tex-Mex at the dive where Aidan worked part-time. His employee discount was much appreciated by the cash-strapped teenagers. The conversation soon turned to talk of college picks and life after high school. Riley was surprised to hear that most of her friends weren’t interested in continuing their education and were going to work for their parents, go to a trade school, or just find a job wherever they could. It was strange for Riley to think about not going to college. Despite her circumstance and lack of funds, she had always assumed that college was the obvious next step for herself and her brother. Ms. Suzanne at the foster home definitely tried to implant the idea and work ethic into their heads. It was obviously important to her that the kids in her care know that they had the same opportunities as children with traditional families. Riley was thankful for that.
At the moment, all of the girls at the table had their eyes glued on Aidan.
“What about you?” a comely viola player asked him. “I just know you’ll be on an NFL team somewhere. Maybe I should get your autograph now.” She giggled at her supposed cleverness.
Aidan smiled and shrugged, always modest about his abilities. “I dunno. I’m not sure I’m good enough. I’ll have to get a scholarship somewhere.”
Brittany, obviously jealous of the other girls’ dewy stares at her boyfriend, put her head on his shoulder and pouted, “If you go away to college, I won’t get to see you as often.” She ran her fingers down his arm and pressed her breasts firmly into his side.
Riley rolled her eyes at her friends. Brittany might have been pretty, but Riley was quickly discovering that she was just like all the other girls who liked her brother: sycophantic, lovesick, and so very shallow.
Aidan looked happy and smug, but changed the subject by pointing to Riley and saying, “This is the one who’s going places. I know she’ll get a music scholarship somewhere. I may have gotten the looks and the charm—”
Riley threw a handful of tortilla chips at him, making Brittany jump back as the crumbs flew all over her tight sweater.
“But she got the brains and the talent. And the temper.
”
Brittany glared at her as if she were stealing her boyfriend’s affection, but her friends laughed in a forced way. They knew she was the best musician in the orchestra, and although her ability was in a different league, she had no airs of conceit or arrogance. Still, Riley could tell that they were envious and didn’t like the idea of someone having more opportunities than they had. Every time the subject of life after high school arose, one of her friends would change the subject. Of course, this only increased the pressure on her, as she felt that she had to live up to everyone’s expectations, prove that she was as good as they thought she was, and actually get into a decent college. Never mind the fact that she had to do extremely well on her SATs, stay in the top percentile of her class, pass a rigorous audition, qualify for a scholarship, and get financial aid, all without money or parental support. The obstacles facing her were daunting and terrifying, so she did what any well-meaning high school student would do. She left the restaurant and went to a friend’s house, where she lost herself in a haze of secondhand cigarette smoke and ill-gotten cheap beer.
*
“So. When are you going to get yourself a boyfriend? I hear that trumpet player Antonio has a huge crush on you.” Aidan relaxed back into the couch in the activity room as he fired up the Xbox.
“Oh my God, Aidan. Don’t change the subject. This is really serious.”
Aidan had just told her that he hadn’t gotten the scholarship to Texas State. It had been his last potential offer. He had pulled his hamstring in the last half of the season and had only gotten to play for one quarter when the recruiters had come by. He was still trying to hide his disappointment, but Riley knew him better than anyone and could tell that he was utterly devastated.
“I’m not changing the subject. The subject is just over and done with. That’s all.”
The Madden Football start screen appeared on the TV, and he chose a two-player game. “Which team do you want to be?”
“I’m not playing that game with you right now, Aidan. We need to talk about this.”
Aidan flew up from the couch and angrily threw the controller across the room where it landed harmlessly in a beanbag chair in the corner.
“Why? Why do we need to discuss this? I didn’t get a scholarship. I’m not going to college. Big deal! I can do other things with my life.” He lifted a large and heavy table by the window and slammed in back down to the ground in frustration.
Riley cowered in the recliner next to him.
“I’m not useless!”
“Aidan, I’m sorry. Please calm down.” Riley trembled and felt queasy at his display of anger.
He stopped himself from punching the wall and then deflated, letting out a long sigh. He looked guilty. He walked back to the couch and slumped down in a heap. “I’m sorry, Nugget. It’s not your fault. I’m sorry I yelled. I’m just super bummed and super pissed. I worked my ass off for that team for three years, and a goddamned pulled muscle just took a giant shit on my entire future.”
Riley hesitated before offering, “You can still go to college, Aidan. Your grades are…okay.”
Aidan shook his head. “I was only gonna go to play football. I’m no good at school. You know that. You’re the smart one.”
“What are you going to do then? You have to leave the Home when you graduate.”
Aidan stood again and walked to the opposite side of the room to pick up the controller he had thrown. “I’m going to get a job. What else? Just like the other guys.” He sat on the arm of her recliner and put his hand on her shoulder. “Listen. Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure something out. I always do. I have the whole rest of the school year to think about it.”
Riley nodded reluctantly, and in an attempt to make him happy said, “I’ll play as the Seahawks if you want. Go easy on me, though, okay?”
He smiled and punched her on her shoulder. “Never. I’m going to kick your ass as usual.”
*
The end of the school year was upon them before they knew it. Riley sat proudly in the orchestra watching the seniors file into the auditorium to their playing of “Pomp and Circumstance.” Their high school wasn’t very large, and it wasn’t long before she saw Aidan make his way proudly to his seat. He looked over and waved, his graduation hat perched at a jaunty angle on his head. Even in his hand-me-down black robe, he cut a dashing figure, and Riley could see some of the female sophomores and juniors in the audience giggle and gaze longingly at him. The school was definitely going to be a different place without him there. He had everyone wrapped around his little finger. Sometimes Riley had trouble believing they were actually related. The differences in their looks and social aptitude were as wide as the sea.
After the seniors had taken their seats and all of the speeches had been given, it was finally Aidan’s turn to cross the stage. The room erupted in applause and whistles as his name was announced even though the faculty had requested that the audience hold all applause until the end. Aidan turned to face the crowd, his arms outstretched, took a theatrical bow, and grinned slyly at his multitude of female fans. Riley shook her head in exasperation, but beamed at him. He loved to ham it up, and his charisma had won him the adoration of the entire school. She was so proud of him.
After the ceremony was over Aidan found Riley in the orchestra section next to the stage as she was putting her cello in its bag.
“Done!” he exclaimed proudly, putting the mortarboard that he had thrown in the air back on his head. “So. Your big brother did good, right?”
Riley laughed. “My big brother did well, yes.”
“I know, dork. I just wanted hear you be an insufferable know-it-all one last time before I left the school.” He punched her playfully in the arm and then pulled her into a hug.
When they pulled apart, Riley saw a gaggle of recently graduated girls waiting impatiently to talk to him, cameras and iPhones at the ready. She gestured with her head. “You’d better get going. Your groupies are about to wet themselves in their excitement to talk to you.”
Aidan turned to look over his shoulder, and when he made eye contact with the group they all stood a little straighter and almost as one made a demure move to tuck their uniformly long hair behind their right ears. It was bizarre and hilarious at the same time. Aidan turned back to her.
“How do I look?” He put on a cartoonish smoldering look and Riley couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
“Like a complete idiot. So by that I mean totally normal. Go on. Have fun. I’ll see you later. Love you.” She smiled and pushed him back toward the girls.
“Love you too, Nugget. Don’t wait up.” He winked devilishly and turned around, arms wide. “Ladies! We’re free!”
Chapter Four
Riley’s junior year passed in a blur of studying, practicing, concerts, practicing, avoiding the other kids both at the group home and at school, and practicing. She wasn’t being bullied anymore so much as ignored. She figured that was fine. She had worried that not having Aidan around would make her more of a target, but the bad attention she received was relatively minor. People still made fun of her fiery red hair and subtle freckles with ginger jokes, but nothing ever turned physical, and she was thankful for that. At least she had grown into her face somewhat, and although she knew she’d never win any beauty pageants, she was happy enough with herself, and that was worth a lot.
Now that she was finally a senior, she had pulled away from social interactions even more. She had to make her final year of high school as successful as possible if she wanted to get into college. It sure didn’t make it much fun, though. She still had her friends in orchestra, but she always felt like the perpetual third wheel, regardless of how many of them were together at any given time. She was the only one who had never dated anyone. She just wasn’t interested. She was also the only one who had never had sex. Again, not interested (in the sex or the rash of teen pregnancies that had been going around). She didn’t do drugs like some of her friends either. She was planni
ng for her future while the rest of them seemed content with the present and the predictably dull life of the suburbs. This didn’t leave a lot of room for discussions about things they all had in common. You could only talk about music and movies for so long.
It also didn’t help that she could never do many things with them outside of school because she had no money. Occasionally, she’d accompany a group to one of their houses to hang out, but as the talk drifted, as it always did, to boys and sex, Riley found herself on the outside, trying to feign interest and trying to show that she was more than the music nerd they all saw her to be. Unfortunately, her ruse didn’t often work and her so-called friends became more and more relentless in their teasing. They’d make fun of her single-mindedness, as if ambition and the yearning for a better life were bad things. They’d try to give her ambush makeovers and once even got close to forcing her to dye her hair. Nothing was as bad as the constant teasing about her lack of boyfriends, though. She had been called a lesbian more times than she could count. The fact that she had already started to figure out that part for herself made no difference.
Riley just tried to laugh it all off, terrified of losing the only connection to a social life she had, but the fire of anger always seemed to burn beneath the surface. They could be so nice to her sometimes, but while she was holding the proffered hand of their friendship, it seemed like the other was always hiding behind their backs, ready to slap her down. Riley didn’t think she would ever truly understand people. It was so much easier to become a part of the little black dots and lines that ran gracefully across the pages of her sheet music. That she understood. That was her true language. That was the family she didn’t have.
Aidan had moved out of the group home right after his graduation and now lived in a small apartment with two of his old football buddies near the center of town. It had become a local favorite hot spot for parties, and it was the most stereotypical bachelor pad imaginable. Riley only liked to visit when the other guys weren’t home, otherwise the musty man smell and miasma of testosterone was stifling. She was terrified of what might be living in the month-old discarded pizza boxes, and when she caught sight of dirty gym socks and underwear on the floor, her stomach turned.
