Revenge Of A Band Geek Gone Bad (10 page)

"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."