Kathy was on a roll as she continued to lead us through her unusual version of musical yoga. About six minutes had passed and Mr. Francis hadn't returned. He and Josh must've been having one hell of a discussion. Who knew trumpets are so fascinating?
"All right, let's loosen up," said Kathy. "Everyone take little jumps. Shake out all those bones and muscles..."
"What the hell is going on here?" She was interrupted mid-sentence by Mr. Francis, who stood in the doorway, face red, eyes blazing. Josh quickly ducked out of the way and ran to his seat. "Miss Meadows, what do you think you're doing?," our conductor boomed. "You know better than to go messing with my things. Is this supposed to be a joke? Did you spend so much time getting dressed up today that you forgot to put your brains in? Or did you leave them in the store when you were picking out your latest lip gloss?" Boy, Mr. Francis could be really mean when he was upset. I don't even think Josh was expecting him to be that insulting.
"But ... but ... I was just doing..." Kathy stammered.
"I didn't ask for an explanation!" Mr. Francis yelled. "All I know is that you were standing up on my podium without my permission making a fool of me in front of my band."
Kathy, being the natural born drama queen that she is, burst into tears. "They told me to do this," she wailed. "The school did! I got a letter." She finished this off with some well-perfected sobs.
"No one told me anything," Mr. Francis shot back. "I should've been the first one to be told about this." He rapped his baton against her chair. "Miss Meadows, I know you think you're a princess and the world revolves around you, but this is my room, and it revolves around me. Got it?"
Kathy nodded and blew her nose.
"Good. Then get out. Get out and don't come back until you're positive you know your place!" Kathy bolted from the room. I didn't know whether to feel pleased ... or guilty.
###
Even after the whole teaching thing, Mr. Francis still didn't give me back the first chair. As I predicted, Kathy didn't go down without a fight. The very next day, Mr. Francis called a special meeting at the start of our class. I guess Kathy's folks had had it out with Mr. Francis, especially since he'd said some rude things to their daughter. I gulped and glanced over at Josh, but he reclined in his chair, cool as ever. He caught my eye, winked and mouthed, "Don't worry."
But I was worried! I sat right next to Kathy and right in front of our conductor. Surely she and Mr. Francis could see the sweat pooling in my armpits and the way my stomach was doing that nervous jiggle-jaggle thing. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Know what? At that moment, I probably could've used Kathy's relaxation exercises!
"Uh, class, we have to discuss something rather serious,"
Mr. Francis began. He stammered and scratched the back of his neck, obviously uncomfortable, which was a little disconcerting to see. "First, uh, there's the matter of me, um, publicly apologizing to Miss Meadows. She was just following what she thought were school instructions. I, urn, said some things I didn't mean, and ... ah... I'd like to publicly retract them." He said this last part so quietly —- well, for him, anyway —- it was actually a bit difficult to hear him. Who knew Mr. Francis could speak at a normal decibel level?
He then addressed the class. "It seems as if someone sent Miss Meadows a false letter regarding a school teaching 'program,' " he went on, his voice rising to its familiar growl. "If anyone has any idea who did this, please let us know. Trust us, we're going to catch those involved." He sighed. "Now let's get going on Broadway For The Band. The last time we went through this, you sounded like a herd of wild goats."
I picked up my flute to play but for the rest of the period, my mouth was dry and my heart was in my throat. I kept thinking that everything I did raised suspicion, like when I leaned over to correct a note in my music and Mr. Francis gave me a look. Still, I tried to concentrate on performing.
At the end of the class, Mr. Francis called Josh over. I took my time putting my music back into its folder so I could listen to what they were saying.
"Kowalski," he said, wagging a finger at him. "You did this, didn't you? This has your name written all over it."
Josh looked right at him, a defiant smirk on his face. "From what I understand, sir, it had Kathy's name all over it."
"If it was you, you won't get away with this," Mr. Francis warned. "Trust me, I'm going to see that you're punished."
Josh continued to stare him down. "First I'd suggest proving I did it before you go accusing another student of doing something he didn't. Come on, Mr. Francis," Josh added. "Do you really think I'd waste my time outside of school pretending to be affiliated with the school? Gimme a break."
Mr. Francis wasn't totally convinced. "Well, I'm going to keep my eye on you," he promised. "You can be sure of that."
"Fine," Josh said, shrugging.
I was shocked that Josh got off so easily, but the next few minutes turned out to be even more of a miracle. As we packed up
our instruments, Mrs. Sanders arrived with -- you guessed it -- a copy of the letter. The guidance counselor was usually very stern and kind of scary-looking, but that day she was happy about something. Maybe she's glad because she found out who wrote the letter, I thought. I'll bet she loves giving out suspensions. Mrs. Sanders walked over to Kathy. "I think I solved the mystery of this note," she said.
"Yeah?" Kathy looked up from putting away her flute.
"Well, we actually are planning a program like this," she explained, "only it's meant to be for volunteers and will take place after school. The college interns have been working on it and the secretary tells me that she recently let one go. I'll bet this came from him. He apparently broke the copy machine and another time, even came to school drunk! So he probably wanted to go out having created chaos." Mrs. Sanders sighed. "I'd say he succeeded."
Kathy perked up. "You know, I did turn down a date from a guy who works in the office. Told him it was unethical, but it was also because he was ugly. The one with the long hair and the mole on his chin?"
"Yeah, that was him!"
"Well, maybe he did this because he was mad at me and wanted to get me back," Kathy mused.
"Yes, that's probably it!" Mrs. Sanders agreed. "Men," she said giving Kathy a smile as if they shared a secret. "They're such babies sometimes. But I'm sorry for any trouble."
"That's okay. I just thought I was going crazy."
"You weren't," Mrs. Sanders said. "Just next time you get anything that comes from us, clear it with me first, okay?"
"Okay."
As Josh and I left school, I doubled over with laughter. I was giggling so hard I fell down on the sidewalk. I couldn't believe the rush I was getting, almost as much as I had when I'd gotten first chair. It was a strange kind of feeling, actually, kind of like giddiness mixed with relief. I guessed that this is what it felt like to be on a roller coaster —- or to have sex —- even though I've done neither.
"Take it easy, will you?," Josh hissed, helping me up. He didn't seem to be too perturbed about getting away with murder. "It's over. We're in the clear."
"But I can't believe it!" I said. "How did we do that?"
"I told you it would be okay."
"Yeah, you did." I giggled some more.
"Mel, admit it," Josh said, smiling. "As much as you complained, this was fun for you. You like living on the edge."
I smiled back. "It wasn't so bad. You know, except for the stomach cramps and crippling paranoia I've been feeling for the past few days. But it could've been worse."
"Well, I'm glad to hear that," he said, snapping his fingers, "because I've got something even bigger planned for you."
What that was, I wasn't sure I was ready to find out.
CHAPTER 8
Josh and I decided to take a break from scheming so we wouldn't draw too much attention to ourselves. That didn't stop us from hanging out. He drove me to and from school every day, and would meet me by my locker between classes. He’d even catch my eye during band
rehearsals and give me a wave or smile. I still didn't let on that I liked him, but for now, I was happy just being his friend. Plus, having Josh by my side offered a certain amount of protection. Now that he was around, Ryan and Tamara and their friends stopped shouting stuff at me in the hallways. Well, actually, Tamara did call me, "Moo-linda" at one point, but Josh stuck up for me by calling her a very nasty name that I can't repeat.
Even Kathy mellowed out. Though Mr. Francis had apologized to her for the whole conducting thing, she still seemed to be on edge during rehearsals. She quit making snide remarks to me or turning the stand away, and just spent all of her time concentrating on her flute. I have to say, I liked this new phase of hers, though I suspected that this was the proverbial calm before the storm.
###
Lana wasn't as pleased about my new social life. "You know, I hardly ever see you anymore," she complained to me after school. We were drinking lattes at the local coffee shop, Steam Dreams. She took a sip of hers and gave me one of her best pouts. "I was beginning to think you were dead or something. But, no, you just found someone better to be friends with."
I couldn't help being a bit annoyed. Lana knows way more people than I do and for years, I've put up with her canceling things on me so she could go on dates. I pouted right back at her. "I'm allowed to be with other people," I said. "Why should you get to be the only one who gets to have a life?"
I guess I sounded snottier than I'd intended, because she looked genuinely upset. "I didn't realize I was holding you back," she said, her green eyes flashing. "And I was just joking now, for God's sake." She looked down and played with a loose string on her pink sweater.
Okay, now I felt terrible, even though Lana has this way of making me feel badly about things I shouldn't feel badly about. I wasn't in the mood to let this turn into a fight. "Look, I miss you, too," I said. She looked up. "I'll make sure I spend more time with you."
"No, no, you're right, I think I'm just in a bad mood or something," she said, sighing. "Maybe it's PMS. But you are allowed to have a life. You need it! Speaking of which, I'm assuming things are going pretty well with Josh since you're now joined at the hip?"
"I don't know, we're really just friends at the moment," I admitted. "Sometimes I catch me looking at me in band, but I don’t think it means anything. He's the type who'd just ask a girl out if he liked her. He isn't shy about those things."
"But maybe not if he truly likes you," Lana pointed out. She shook her head. "Face it, Mel, guys are weird like that. Now that you're hanging out with one, you'll see what I mean."
###
By the end of the week, I learned just what she was talking about. As everyone hurried out of band, anxious to begin the weekend, Josh approached me.
"What are you doing tonight?"
"Nothing." That summed up most of my Friday evenings, actually. That night, I'd planned to work on my paintings. Now that I'd finished up my Dali-inspired ones, I'd moved on to making some based on Magritte. I had a copy of that False Mirror painting I'd printed out —- the one of the eye that reminded me of Josh's —- and I was now making my own eyeball paintings. So far, I was doing one where it looked like a regular eye from far away, but when you got in close, you could see the view from my window. I liked how that portion of the painting was coming out, but I wanted to work on the eye itself.
Anyway, I was willing to put this on hold if it meant spending time with Josh. "I know someplace cool we can go," he said. "Remember that surprise I promised you?"
I suddenly didn't feel like going out so much. Let's face it, the last time he "surprised" me, there was a mega-roach involved. "Josh, can you just tell me what it is?"
He laughed and shook his head. "Nope."
I playfully shoved him. "Not fair."
Josh got down on his knees and pretended to beg. "Please? Pretty please? It'll be fun. I promise that it's nothing bad."
"Then why won't you tell me where you're taking me?" I stared down at him.
"Because it won't be as much fun if you're not surprised." He stood back up. "Trust me, okay? Besides, do you really want to spend Friday night at home with your folks?"
When he put it that way, there was no other option. "Fine. I'll be surprised. Just no giant bugs, please."
He grinned. "Done. I'll pick you up around eight."
###
Lana stopped by before he picked me up. I'd lied to my parents that I was going out with her. She was going to a party so that much was true, but we figured it would look more realistic if we left together. Luckily, my mom was beyond thrilled that I was doing something social with Lana. "I'm so glad that you've convinced Mel to do something fun with you," my mother chirped. She was wearing her typical weekend outfit -- a sweatshirt and jeans -- and was chopping vegetables into a bowl. "Mel needs to get a larger group of friends like you have."
"Hi, Mom," I said, waving at her. "I'm right here. You don't have to speak about me as if I'm not in the room."
"Well, I don't want you speaking to me in that tone," Mom snapped. "I'm just happy for you is all," she finished quietly.
"Um, Lydia, Hank ... it was great seeing you guys, but Mel and I need to get ready," Lana cut in. Even though she's like family, she always gets uncomfortable when we start sniping at each other. "We'll see you later." I shot my friend a grateful look and we bolted upstairs.
"God, she's so annoying!" I hissed.
"She's kind of right, you know," Lana replied. "Up til now, you haven't had much of a life." She looked around my room. "Ew, what's the deal with all the eyeballs?"
"They're my new paintings," I explained. I held up False Mirror. "They're modeled after this."
"They're creepy," Lana complained, making a face. "I feel like they're all looking at me!" She then laughed. "See, now this is why your mom worries about you. Normal people don't go around making scary eyeball paintings!"
I held up a painting and waved it in her face. "Who says I even want to be normal?"
###
An hour later, Josh picked me up by Lana's. As soon as the beat-up green station wagon pulled into the driveway, I noticed that there was something different about him: he was wearing a black suit and tie.
Lana beamed. "He looks hot, Mel!" she whispered.
Yeah, he did, but next to him I looked positively frumpy in my jeans (thankfully this pair fit!) and blue sweater.
I went out to greet him and was hit by a blast of the cool fall air. "You didn't tell me that we were supposed to get dressed up," I said, looking down at my outfit.
He opened my door for me. "You look fine."
"Then why are you wearing fancy clothes?" I asked as I hopped into the passenger seat.
He shrugged. "I just wanted a change of pace."
###
After riding for a few minutes, I noticed that Josh didn't have his usual rock station on. Instead, he pulled out a CD by Dave Brubeck. "I figured we'd listen to some jazz tonight," he said, popping the CD into the slot. "It feels kind of like a jazzy night, doesn't it?"
I looked outside into the nighttime sky. It was a cool, windy evening, but the sky was clear. You could even see a full moon. If Josh were my boyfriend, this would be romantic, I thought. I just said, "Yeah, it kind of is."
We rode for a while in silence, listening to the music. This was different from the jazz my dad played; the songs had all these off-beat rhythms and harmonies. I liked it.
"You know, I don't know how you can stand playing the stuff we do in band since you seem to have hard-core tastes," I said.
Josh laughed. "Well, yeah. Rock and jazz are more my thing than those stupid Broadway medleys we're doing. But I like being part of a band, even if the songs we play are crap. It's fun."
"It is," I agreed. I then found myself admitting something I didn't discuss with many people. "To tell you the truth, I don't feel like I fit in most of the time, but in band, I do. I'm part of the team. And I like performing for everyone. It's nice to make people happy."
"
That's cool, but for me it's more about the challenge," Josh explained. "I mean, think about it, we have, what, 50 band members or so? And when we perform for a concert, we're all expected to get every note right. It's not like when we're in rehearsal and get do-overs. It's do or die on stage. And it's exciting when it's do or die for so many people at once."
"I never thought of it like that."
"That's why I really like improvising music," Josh said. He looked at me. "Have you ever just played something you made up on the spot?" I shook my head. "Well, it's awesome. Imagine having no sheet music to read off of, no practice, hell, sometimes you've never even heard the song before, and you're just making it up as you go along. It's like the notes are this runaway train and you're trying to catch it and you almost have it, but it feels like the music is always one step ahead of you." His voice got low and he got that dreamy look in his eyes, that same look he'd had when we were listening to music in his room.
"That's what I like," he finished. "I like it when I have no boundaries."
I sighed and felt a shiver run up my spine. Josh managed to make music sound so exciting —- and dangerous.
###
Josh drove past the factories until we were almost near the train station. He pulled into the driveway for this old shack-like building that looked as if it would topple over the second a gust of wind hit it. A neon sign hung over the entranceway, but the D was broken. "Ew Drop Inn," it said. Yeah, "Ew," just about summed up this place.
Josh got out of the car, whistling to himself as if there were nothing unusual about two underage kids going to this decrepit bar on what was literally the wrong side of the tracks. I hung back, taking it all in.
A couple of guys on the other side of the parking lot made their way into the place. Both had denim jackets and hair that was short in the front and long in the back. Even I could tell that they needed some help in the fashion department. One gave me a long, leering smile. I instinctively crossed my arms over my chest. "I don't think we can go in there," I said.
Revenge Of A Band Geek Gone Bad Page 7
