Revenge Of A Band Geek Gone Bad (28 page)

He took my hands.  "Don't worry so much, okay?  We all need the laugh so we can relax before tomorrow."

"If you say so."
  I wasn't so sure.

"Look, it'll be
fine
.  Think about this weekend instead.  Valentine's Day is
gonna
be great."

I relaxed as he gave me a final kiss.  "I can't wait."

He winked.  "Neither can
I
."

###

Romance was definitely not in the air the next morning.  As soon as Josh and I entered the school, Maya and Lana came running over to us.  "You'll never believe what happened," Lana said, her eyes bright.  "This is major."

Maya nodded.  "She's not kidding, Mel."

Josh rolled his eyes, but let us be so we could enjoy some girl talk.  "So, what's going on?"  I asked, watching Lana bounce up and down on her heels.  "You look like you're about ready to jump out of your skin."

"It's Ken," she said.  She took a deep breath. "He and Kathy broke up. 
Yesterday.
 
On
Valentine's Day
."

"Seriously?"
  When I'd last seen them, they were still joined at the hip.  Knowing Ken, he was probably just ready to go back to
Dani
. 
Again.

"
She's
gonna
be fun today in rehearsal," Maya said.  "I definitely wouldn't want to be her."

"I know, it sucks," I said.  Given that Josh was my only boyfriend to date, I hadn't yet experienced a breakup, nor did I really want to.  I'd seen Lana after she'd ended things with guys and it was never a pretty sight.  But to be dumped on Valentine's Day, that just made the whole thing worse.

"So, what do you think happened with them?"  Lana asked.  She could barely suppress her glee.  "Do you think he got back together with
Dani
?"

"No, I saw
Dani
making out with her boyfriend just this morning," said Maya.

"Oh.  Well then maybe he just realized what a bitch she is."

"I don't know," I said.  "He and Kathy seemed pretty happy yesterday."

"I doubt it," Lana said.  "I've seen them together and believe me, they weren't happy.  I could tell just from the look on Ken's face that he did not like her."  For someone who was supposedly over Ken, she sure did think about him a lot.

We stopped talking when Kathy entered the hallway flanked by Clara and Tamara.  She held her head high, but even in the dimly-lit hall, I could see that her
eyes were puffy and her face pale.  If the rumors were true —- and it was certainly looking that way, given Kathy's current state —- she probably hadn't gotten much sleep.  I was again hit by that pang I'd felt while observing Kathy have her meltdown during the recital.  First she lost out on the orchestra, now this ... her year really wasn't getting off to a very good start.

"Come on," I said to my friends, leading them away.  I didn't want to look at her anymore; it made me think too much about things I didn't really want to think about.  "We're
gonna
be late to class."

###

For the rest of the day the stories about Ken and Kathy circulated.  By now, those horrific photos of me were old news; an A-list couple splitting up was much more interesting.  By the time I got to wind ensemble, I'd heard about a dozen different accounts of their breakup: she cheated on him, he cheated on her,
he
was being sent to military school, she was a lesbian, he gave her an incurable disease and they were both going to die, she had herpes.  It was amazing how creative my fellow students could be when they put their minds to it.

That day's rehearsal was held out on the stage.  We were up first, followed by the orchestra and chorus, which were also performing that night.  Unlike the holiday recital, this was in the real auditorium which holds several hundred people.  Our families wouldn't see us until that evening but students were invited to watch us during the day.  I felt a little thrill rush through me just from being out there and peering into the sea of auditorium seats.  During our regular rehearsals, it was sometimes easy to forget that we were putting these pieces together so we could entertain people.  But being out on the stage reminded me of our purpose and how Josh had once said it was "do or die."  This rehearsal was it, our last chance.  After that, it was up to us to stay together as a wind ensemble and somehow make that music come to life.

Kathy arrived and took her seat, which was closest to the edge of the stage.  She looked worse than she had this morning; her eyes were still red and puffy, only now her cheeks were streaked with mascara, probably from crying all day.  I turned away from her because I didn't want her to see me staring. 
             
Soon, the rest of the students filed in with Mr. Francis bringing up the rear.  He waddled over to his podium and rapped on the stand with his baton. 

"All right, it's crunch time," he bellowed, waving his baton around.  "That means I want you to pretend that this is the real thing.  No slip-ups, no
mistakes
."  He growled the last part.

We began playing the strains of
Broadway for the Band
, making our way
through
Annie
and
Sweeney Todd
.  Suddenly, Mr. Francis stopped us, infuriated.

"What is this?" he roared, holding up a portion of his conductor's score.  Since I was sitting close to him, I could see that cutouts from a men's magazine were taped to the pages.  I tried not to laugh.  It was Josh's doing, no doubt.

"What is this?" he repeated.  No one answered, but the students in the audience began to giggle.  Of course, Mr. Francis turned right to Josh.

"Mr. Kowalski, is this your handiwork?"

"No," Josh replied, trying not to laugh.  "But if you like reading magazines like that, hey, I'm not
gonna
judge..."

"I know this was you!" our conductor barked.  "Only you'd waste my time with such nonsense."

"Hey, I read that magazine strictly for the articles."

Mr. Francis shook his head.  "Well, today's your lucky day because I don't have time for this.  But that doesn't mean I'm not keeping an eye on you.  Give me one good reason, and you're out of here -- and out of the concert."  He glared at the rest of us.  "That goes for
everyone
."  He slammed a baton against his stand, breaking it,
then
promptly grabbed another.

I glanced over at Josh.  He smiled at me and shrugged.

Next, we started
West Side Story
, which was our most difficult number.  This time, Josh put on a silly hat and sunglasses.  The kids in the audience roared.

"That's enough!" Mr. Francis cried.  "Guys, seriously, we don't have time for this funny business."

"But
it's
fun having props," Josh argued.  Ken cracked up. 

"Just get out!" Mr. Francis shrieked.  "And don't bother showing up tonight!"

With a wave of his hat, Josh sauntered off the stage.  I vowed to convince Mr. Francis to let Josh back into the concert, and then to have a
long
talk with my boyfriend.

"You, too, Samuels!"
  Mr. Francis ordered.

Ken's eyes widened.  "Me?  What did I do?"

"I saw you laughing along with Kowalski.  GET OUT!  And don’t think I won’t tell Dr.
Chambourg
about this."

Ken grunted and angrily kicked his chair, but obeyed.

"Okay, now where were we?"  Mr. Francis asked, not really wanting an answer.  "Ah, yes, 'Maria.' "

This was Kathy's cue to play her opening solo.  Only she didn't move.  She just sat there, staring.  I nudged her.  "Kathy, it's your turn."

She jumped.  "What?  Oh."  She began playing but tripped up in the very first measure.  Mr. Francis held up his hand.

"Is there a problem, Miss Meadows?"

"No, I, uh, I'm just not feeling well," she mumbled.  She kept her head down, not daring to look at him.  A few students in the audience quietly chuckled.

"Then you'd better make yourself feel better very quickly," Mr. Francis warned.  "The concert's tonight."

"I know that," she said.  She made another attempt at the solo, but still flubbed a couple of notes.  Mr. Francis made a noise that sounded like a cross between a sigh and a grunt.

"Meadows, what's the deal?" 
he
asked.  "Are you going to be able to play this?  I can't have you coming out here sounding like crap."  Kathy bit her lip and a tear rolled down her cheek.

"Miss Rhodes, will you please take over?" 
he
asked, pointing his baton at me.  He again grunted at Kathy.  "Oh, and please switch seats with Miss Rhodes.  If you can't hack the solo, you don't get to sit in the first chair."

###

After rehearsal, I went to search for Josh so I could tell him about what had happened.  I suppose that it was safe to say we'd "won"; after all, I was finally given back first chair.  But to be honest, it turned out that this wasn't exactly how I saw myself earning it.  I wanted to be first because I was the
best
, not because someone else screwed up.  It was similar to how I felt about the recital: did Dr.
Chambourg
choose me to be in his orchestra because I truly deserved it or had I been the "best" that evening simply because Kathy hadn't really been given a fair chance to perform?

Once I reached the parking lot, I put those thoughts behind me.  Josh and Ken were standing by Josh's car and looked to be in the middle of an intense argument.

"I'm not doing it," Ken shouted.  "I won't let you have it."

"But you did it already," Josh told him.  "It's too late to back out!"

"I don't care, you can't make me.  I already feel bad about it!"  As I got closer, I saw that Ken was tightly gripping something in his hand.  Josh kept reaching for it, but Ken was bigger and taller than him.

"Just give it to me!"  Josh shouted, his face turning red.  "Come on, man, you know why it's important!"

"Dude, don't make this ugly," Ken warned.

Pretty soon, a crowd formed around them.  I pushed my way through and made my way over to the guys.  "What's going on?"  I asked, trying to keep my voice light.  "Is everything okay?"

Josh pursed his lips.  "This doesn't concern you, Mel.  Just ... just don't get involved."

"But..."  How could I not get involved?  My boyfriend was about to get his ass kicked.

"Yeah, get out of here," Ken said.  He addressed the group.  "All of
you,
just get lost!"

Of course, no one listened.  Ken and Josh stood a few inches apart, eyeing each other as if they were lions about to fight it out.  Suddenly, Josh lunged at Ken, trying to grab the object from him.  With a swift move, Ken whirled around and tossed the item —- which was a digital camera, I now saw —- into the middle of the street.  Josh's mouth flew open.

"No!" 
he
cried.  "You're such a dick!  How could you do that?"  He threw up his arms. 
"You asshole!"

Ken sneered.  "Whatever.  I'm done with you."

"Oh, we're not done," Josh said.  Before any of us knew what was happening, Josh bolted over to where the camera was and snatched it off the ground.  He triumphantly held it over his head ... just as a car whizzed around the corner.  The driver screeched to a halt, but it was too late: the vehicle slammed into Josh.  In what appeared to be slow motion, he hurtled several feet into the air and then crashed onto the ground.  Everyone gasped as we regarded his limp, lifeless body.  I wanted to run over to him, but my feet remained motionless.  I sucked in a big gulp of air and realized that I'd been holding my breath.

"Oh my God!"
I whispered, as the sky spun around me.  I felt the cold earth hit me and realized that I'd fallen to my knees.  "Josh!" I cried, louder, now sobbing. 
"Josh!"

Before long, paramedics arrived on the scene, pushing back the crowds that surrounded Josh.  Mr. Francis, as well as the other teachers present, frantically tried to usher the curious students out of the way.  The sounds of sirens filled my ears.  I couldn't move from my spot on the ground.  I just sat there crying and shaking.

Finally, Josh was taken away in an ambulance and the lot cleared out.  I don't know how long I stayed in that spot, hugging my knees and shaking, but it seemed like hours.  At last, the numbness went away; I looked around, trying to figure out what to do next.

I jumped when I felt a hand grab my shoulder.  It was Mr. Francis.  "Come on, Miss Rh...
er
, Melinda," he said gently.  "I'll take you to the hospital."

CHAPTER 18

"
He's
gonna
be okay, Melinda," Mr. Francis said as he led me to his car.  He drove a sleek, black Mazda, definitely not what I expected from a man who was wearing a blue and red Hawaiian print shirt with a green cardigan.  For a fleeting moment, I smiled as I filed this bit of information away for Josh, but then realized that I might not ever get to share it with him.  For what seemed like the millionth time that afternoon, I dissolved into sobs.