by Karen Bass
The door opened. Brock poked his head inside. “I hoped this is where I’d find you. Thanks for sticking around. I won’t be long, Sidney. Stay here.”
Sid found a National Geographic dvd about the rain forest and put it in the player-tv combo in the middle of the wall of shelves. She settled into Brock’s chair and waited. So far she’d spent the day being invisible, but she was going to have to face people soon. She’d have to walk into class and everyone would stare. She really hated that thought. Rare monkeys and anacondas and piranhas weren’t making her feel any better about things.
James walked in. He seemed startled to see her, though the secretary had to have told him where she was. Before she could speak, he blurted, “Listen, Sid. I know you don’t want me here, but I’d like to be. I want to know how things turn out. I’ll wait outside this office, but I want you to know I’m here. And... I’ll support you no matter what happens. Okay?”
“Yeah. Okay, Dad. Ah... Yeah.”
He stepped forward as if he might hug her, then sighed and turned away.
“Daddy?” He spun back. Sid stood. “Why don’t you hug me any more?”
“You...you’re a young woman now, Sid. I thought I was, you know, giving you space. It can get awkward for a dad, having his little girl look and, ah, feel so womanly.” He fell silent, slid his foot forward half a step. “Do you...want a hug?”
She closed her eyes and nodded. The next thing she knew familiar arms were wrapping her in a bubble of warmth. Her hands rested against James’s chest and his heartbeat pulsed against her palms.
He kissed the top of her head. “I love you. I’m sorry I let my job become more important than you. It isn’t.” He released her. “Do you want me to stay in here or wait outside?”
She glanced around the small room. Two people made it seem crowded. “I wouldn’t mind being alone for a bit. So I can think. Just knowing you’re out there is good.”
He nodded and left. She was still staring at the door when Brock came in. “Listen, Sid. It isn’t quite playing out like I’d thought.”
Before she could reply, vp Finning’s solid frame filled the doorway. She scowled at Brock. “I want this done and over, Mr. Brock. Just the way we agreed.” She left and Brock quietly closed the door, then leaned against it as he faced Sid. “I want you to understand that none of this is my choice. I was forced to agree.”
She gave him a questioning look.
“And I want you to understand that I believe what you told Officer Downing. All of it.”
“What’s going on, Brock?”
He closed his eyes and sighed. “The police won’t be pressing charges. They said there isn’t enough evidence to support your claims. The video is inconclusive.” His eyes flew open. “I disagree with that. I think it’s very plain that you were forced. But they don’t think it’s clear enough to hold up in a court of law. And beyond the video, there is just Rocklin’s word against yours. The other boys are supporting him, saying you were willing.”
“What? How could they –” Of course they could. Rocklin was their leader, and they’d never desert him. Loyal to the end. “That stinks.”
“It does. And it means the police are handing the situation back to the school.”
“So what exactly did you and vp Finning agree to?” She quickly amended, “I mean, what did she tell you had to happen?”
“She wants reconciliation. The boys did admit they recorded the kiss and that they posted it without your permission. So they have to apologize to you and that will be the end of it.”
“That stinks worse. None of the apologies will be genuine. You know that. So what if I refuse?”
“Then vp Finning told me she will assume that you were in on this little ‘video prank,’ as she called it, and that it was all for the purposes of advertising Rocklin’s band. And she will suspend all of you for the whole week.”
“All! Including me?”
Brock nodded. “I protested as strongly as I could. You’re the victim here. But she’s adamant. The apologies are where it ends so far as the school is concerned.”
Sid sat and rested her forearms on Brock’s desk. “Fine. Whatever. And I’ll laugh in their faces for their fakeness.”
“You sound a little angry, Sidney.”
“Do I? Where will we be doing this apology crap?”
“vp Finning is letting me handle the actual apologies. We can do it right here. They’ll come in one at a time.”
“Oh, good.” The thought of it made Sid pop another pair of antacid tablets. “And you?”
“I’ll stay beside you if you’ll let me.”
“Why not? You do strive to be the grand puppet master, after all.” He gave her a puzzled look and she blurted, “Did you call my dad?”
“No.”
She sank back in the chair, folded her arms and drummed her hidden fingers against her ribs. James had decided to be here without any prompting? That was something she wished she had time to think about. Maybe Brock wasn’t manipulating them like she’d thought.
Han came in first. He hadn’t had anything to do with the video scam except to watch it unfold, but he sounded truly sorry about that, and pretty disgusted with his friends. Not enough to tell the truth about the forced kiss. Sid couldn’t bring herself to laugh.
Clem was belligerent as he explained he’d been in a band where a girl had caused problems and he didn’t want one in his band. Ever. No matter how good she played. He grudgingly admitted he and Wes might have stepped over a line in posting the video online.
That was all. Here was the real puppet-master, but he didn’t admit to that. Sid was too choked by his attitude to say anything at all.
Clem left and Rocklin walked in with his mother, who looked extremely put out at having to go through this process. Sid turned to Brock and whispered, “Why is she here?”
“She insisted that if I stay, she stays. And there is no way I’m leaving you alone with him, Sid. Just go with it. You’re doing great.”
Rock also appeared plenty ticked off. Not at Sid, as it turned out. “Wes and Clem set me up. They were the ones who played me, not you. I didn’t know about that video. I swear. We were all laughing and joking around after and I said a few stupid things, but that unzipped fly thing? No way. I didn’t even know they did that.”
Rocklin took a deep breath. “Thing is, you’re a great drummer. That’s all that should matters. Man, the music is all that matters.”
Sid’s breath froze in her lungs. Was he going to offer her the gig, after everything he’d done? For less than a second the idea appealed to her. Taylor would appreciate the irony. The very thing she’d wanted, offered at last. She licked her bottom lip, and noticed Rocklin follow the gesture with his gaze.
Remembered the feel of his lips, his body crushing hers. The pain. The fear.
Thoughts of Taylor lying in the hospital, of Narain standing up for her, of Brad’s kisses, even of Joanne’s kindness, spiraled through her mind. No, she didn’t want the break Rocklin was about to offer her. Oh, she wanted to get into a band, but on her terms. Not his. Not anyone else’s. When she told him Taylor would laugh and say, “I told you so.” And she’d reply, “I’m doing what you told me to, Tay. I’m only trying to be me.”
But the offer never came. Rocklin only repeated, “You’re a great drummer.”
“That’s your idea of an apology?” Sid shook her head. “Well then, here’s my version of an acceptance: I am good and I want you to walk out of here knowing that I’m the best thing that never happened to your band.”
He looked a little confused; his mother looked thoroughly insulted. Before the woman could respond, and she looked like she was going to, Brock showed them out.
Minutes later Wes walked in and took the chair she usually occupied. A grim-faced older version of him f
ollowed and stood beside the chair. Sid almost rolled her eyes. Great. Another over-protective parent. Brock closed the door and took position beside Sid. Like sides squaring off on a tennis court. A good thing her dad was outside; the room wasn’t made for this many people and was really heating up.
“Do it,” Mr. Remichuk said. Sid could tell where Wes got his forcefulness.
Wes wrung his hands as if washing them. He definitely had that “caught in the cookie jar” look. Sid wondered if she should suggest he join the drama team. He glanced up, revealing bloodshot eyes, and quickly ducked his head again. “I treated you pretty bad, Sid.”
She waited. That was it? That was the big apology?
Mr. Remichuk flicked the back of Wes’s hair. Wes flinched. “I... I had no right to hassle you like I did. The, the taunting stuff. And the video...” He rubbed his palms against his thighs. “I had no right... It was...”
He almost sounded sincere. He also sounded like an idiot. Sid decided to help him out. “It was...stupid? Cruel? Did you know I had to fight off a guy with a knee to his balls because of that video? Did you know that this apology might not do anything to stop that kind of jerk? Why should I accept your apology, Wesley? For that matter, have you even apologized for basically ruining my life?” He started to stammer. Sid said, “Apologies work better if you look the person in the eye, Wesley.”
Wes frowned and lifted his face. “I am sorry, okay, Sid? I mean really sorry. I’m knee-deep in shit because of this –”
“Yeah. That’s the most honest thing you’ve said. You’re in trouble so now you’re sorry. Not because of what you did to me, but because of what’s happening to you.”
Mr. Remichuk cleared his throat. “Now you listen, young lady –”
“No,” Brock said. “This is between them.”
Wes gave Brock a look that bordered on thankfulness. “I can’t blame you for being angry, Sid. And I wouldn’t blame you if you pushed it into court. What we did to you was crappy. I knew it then.” He stood. “If it means anything, I’d take it back if I could.” He walked out. His father followed.
Sweat trickled down the back of Sid’s neck. “What did he mean, if I pushed it into court?”
Brock went to the door, whispered something and closed it. He took the student’s chair, leaving Sid in his spot. She pulled her legs up against her chest and waited. He said, “The police explained the possible outcomes to the boys and their parents. There might not be enough evidence to charge Rocklin with sexual assault, but you could sue for defamation of character.”
“What do the police think will happen if I do that?”
“They don’t get involved in civil suits. Privately they suggested to me that you think very carefully before you take that route. It would be as ugly as a regular trial. And they know you have to walk these halls so they want you to be comfortable with the outcome.”
“That band is the centre of cool here, Brock. Even the few days suspension the guys already took could mean I’ll be facing a first-class miserable time.”
“I don’t know, Sidney, but I don’t think so. You didn’t stick around to see how subdued the students were after the assembly. That’s usually a sign that the message got through. I think you’ll find more supporters in this school than you know.”
“So is the suspension they served all the punishment they’re getting?”
“Apart from the apologies? Pretty much. Since hearing the inconclusive results of the police investigation, VP Finning has fixed on the idea of this being a band stunt and she’s said that she’ll request the band be barred from performing at any school function in the city for so long as they’re students in the system. If she goes ahead with it we won’t know that decision for a month or so. It would be made at board level.”
Sid gripped the desk and pushed so the chair swivelled. She stared out the window for a long time, her thoughts circling and circling.
Brock finally said, “I’m sorry you had to go through this, Sid. Do you want me to call your father in?”
“Not yet.” Sid eyed a bee bouncing against the outside of the window screen – she’d been just like that, trying and trying to get into a place she wouldn’t have liked in the end.
“Do you want to tell me how you’re feeling? Saying it out loud can sometimes help your thoughts come together.”
Sid considered that. “It’s like I have three voices inside.”
“What are they saying?”
“Well... One is quivering in the corner, wishing all this would just go away.”
“That’s pretty normal.”
Sid turned the chair back to face Brock. “You like that word way too much.” He smiled and shrugged. She gave him an exaggerated look of exasperation, then became serious. “One voice, the loudest, is saying I should let them all rot. Preferably in a cold dark cell full of rats. Not that that’s a real option.”
He nodded slowly and spoke the same way. “I’m not surprised, given how angry you’ve sounded this morning. So are you considering a civil suit?”
“Maybe. But...” She closed her eyes and tapped a swing rhythm on her shin.
“But what, Sid?”
“I have this friend, an old jazz musician from way back. He lived in New Orleans decades ago, and gradually migrated north, bit by bit, until he opened his club downtown. He’s been trying to teach me to feel the beat. Last time I jammed with him I flipped it and to cover kicked into a drum solo. He doesn’t think much of hard rock. Said I need to do more than just feel the beat. I need to ‘control the flow so I don’t start flailing like a chicken with its head chopped off’.”
“A direct quote?”
Sid heard the amusement and nodded. “The thing is, this third voice is kind of quiet, but it feels like the beat. Like it’s in my bones. I haven’t heard it much these past few days because the loud voice has been wailing so loud. But the quiet voice is drumming along like a soft jazz riff.”
“What does it say?”
Sid frowned. “What happens if I don’t do the civil suit thing?”
Brock leaned forward. “There’s still the board meeting. Those boys will be choked if their band is, ah, banned.” He gave Sid an apologetic shrug for the bad pun.
“Clem was behind all this.”
“Without proof...”
Sid sighed. “Right. And what about Wes? He was Clem’s stooge. He was worse than me when it came to doing anything to get into the band.”
“Normally I can’t discuss other students with you. I think I can tell you that Wes discovered, the hard way, that his mother was a dedicated feminist lawyer before she cut back her number of clients to raise children. She deals mostly with businesses these days, but interestingly, they’re mostly women-owned and operated.”
Sid thought for a moment. “So he might be more than knee-deep in trouble at home?” No wonder he had looked so pathetic as he was leaving. Maybe she’d offer a truce so long as he treated her decently.
“Neck deep, at least. Believe me. I’ve already heard part of her, ah, re-education plan, which starts with not being allowed to join tfd.”
It seemed only right to Sid that tfd came out of this without a drummer. She unfolded her legs off the chair and leaned forward. “That quiet voice, it kind of thinks life will run smoother if I just go with the flow.”
“So you think it’s fair that they get off free and clear? Rock basically assaulted you. Then what they did with that video...” Brock shook his head, as if to clear the images from his mind.
“Whose side are you on?”
“Yours.”
Sid suppressed a smile. “Oh. Well, since you’re so into honesty and that kind of crap, you should know I feel like I walked into that video mess when I knew better.”
Brock raised his eyebrows and waited.
“
I had a bad feeling about it as soon as I saw the guys were drinking – which was probably the quiet voice if I’d bothered to listen – but I still went up to Rock when he called me. I should’ve run right then. I didn’t.”
“That didn’t give any of them the right to do what they did. Not the unwanted kiss and not that nasty innuendo at the end of the video.” He lowered his voice. “Lack of evidence aside, sexual assault is very serious, Sid. You need to understand that that’s what happened here.”
“Yeah. I get it, Brock. I do. But they’re being punished. Sort of. And I’m thinking that a civil suit would mean I’d have to testify in court and put Dad through even more days like this one. How’s his ulcer supposed to get better if I keep this up? He won’t go to a doctor no matter how much I nag. And I think the biggest thing to come from a law
suit is that I’d become a target in school. Yeah, they were nasty, but I wasn’t hurt, just humiliated. Believe me, it won’t happen again.”
Brock smiled. “You’ve got a smart quiet voice there, Sid. I hope you keep listening to it. What’s it saying about not joining the band?”
“There are other bands. Maybe I’ll even start my own. If I ask Sam at Downtown Music, I know she’d ask around for me, maybe help me find some interested musicians.”
“That sounds like a good plan. But how’s the loud voice feeling right now?”
“Madder than hell. Wants to go home and pound drums ’til they shatter.”
“Will you?”
“No. I’m going to go home and practise a little jazz, and maybe ‘Workin’ Them Angels.’ Something that makes me control the flow.”
“So you’re done with heavy metal?”
“No way.” Sid grinned. “A girl’s gotta let loose once in a while.”
29 | crescendo
Sid and Brad stopped in the hallway outside the gymnasium. The decorations from the prom spilled out of the gym all the way to the main entrance, a jungle of huge potted plants interspersed with golden bouquets of helium-filled balloons nodding in time to the music. It almost didn’t look like a school.
