Revenge Of A Band Geek Gone Bad (31 page)

Lenny spoke in a low voice, as if he were telling a campfire story.  "Well, it was last summer and we had nothing to do.  So, Josh and I put on our best suits and went to the city. We figured if we dressed up, we'd have an easier time getting into places."

"Does that really work?" Lana asked.

"Hell, yeah.
  Plus, you know, Josh is a good-looking guy, so ladies usually do what he wants."  He gave me a guilty grin.  "Of course, he always does what
you
want, Mel.  Anyway,
Josh,
suggested that we go to the Waldorf Astoria."  He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts.  "Man, talk about a nice hotel.  They were having a wedding there ... and the bride, whoa, she was
smokin
'.  Not as pretty as Lana [
Lana stuck out her tongue
], but definitely hot.  So, Josh listens in and learns this old guy's name is Bert and is related to the bride.  He's all, 'Bert, hey, don't you remember me?  I was a little boy when you last saw me.'  And Bert's, like, all confused now and doesn't want to feel stupid, so he's like, 'Hey, yeah, I remember you.'  So now these people don't know us, but totally think we're members of the family and don't want to admit they don't know us."

I was getting a headache but nodded at Lenny to go on.

"So Josh and I, of course, took advantage of the open
bar. Not to mention the women folk. 
[
"Women folk?"
Lana interrupted. She playfully slapped him and Lenny continued
].  "About an hour later, everyone's like, drunk off their asses.  One guy -- he was like the CEO of some company -- he's totally wearing his wife's bra on his head and dancing the
hora
.  It was a great
party."

"Sounds wonderful," I said, barely masking my sarcasm.

"
It's
gets better," Lenny promised.  "It was dinner -- which was
awesome
.  It was filet mignon with truffles and these little sculpted potatoes -- and people started
making toasts.  Well, Josh –- he
makes one!  He stands up on his chair and is, like, wasted, but he's all, 'You two are so in love, I love being a part of this lovely family ... love and happiness forever.'  I was so sure we were going to get
nailed
at this point, but these stupid people are, like, eating this crap up with a spoon.  Then, you know how Josh lugs his trumpet everywhere?"  I nodded.  I knew all too well.  "Turns out he brought it here.  To this wedding that we crashed.  So he gets up, marches over to the band, tells their trumpet player, 'Get off the stage, I can do better,' and starts playing with them!  And, dude, these rich people are applauding and begging for more.  So, Josh plays a couple more tunes, and the real trumpet player's
pissed
at this point, 'cause this kid is showing him up.  Then, Josh, who's really drunk now, actually confesses that we crashed.  He
confesses
!  I'm sitting there like, 'Dude, we're so going to get arrested,' but everything turned out all right.  They loved Josh so much that they cheered him for the performance.  They
freakin
'
cheered
him for coming in uninvited and stealing their food.  It was the best day."

I laughed.  It was so like Josh to make everything work to his advantage, even when he was so clearly in the wrong.

Lenny suddenly turned serious.  "Hanging with Josh is always a blast," he said softly.  "I don't know what I'd do without him.  He's a great friend."  He looked down and I saw that tears were in his eyes.  "Seeing him like that, all bandaged up in a hospital bed, it was too much," he whispered.  "He's a good friend.  He doesn't deserve it.  He doesn't deserve to be in pain like that. 
Not at all."

CHAPTER 20

Josh was released from the hospital two weeks later, but until then, I visited him every day after school.  Now that I was in this position I was able to better understand what my mom had gone through with my grandfather.

Once Josh was home, a tutor came to keep him up to date on his schoolwork, not that Josh really needed too much help in that department.  I think he liked having someone come by, though, because it broke up his day.  Despite what he'd always said about not liking school, he clearly didn't like being away from it, either.  At home, he had no friends around and no teachers to torment.  Yeah, I suppose he could've stuck a roach in his tutor's briefcase, but it just wouldn't have been the same.

As for me, I did my best to keep busy.  In the past, I'd always shut myself out when I was dealing with something intense, but this time I craved being with people.  I became the organizer of several things, which was extremely not Melinda-like – but I didn't mind at all!

First, I asked Mr. Francis if I could start a chamber music club.  "Most of the time, band is pretty competitive," I explained.  "You know, we're always fighting for first chair or who gets into the state-wide orchestra or whatever.  But I think if we had some small groups playing together just for fun, people could learn to just appreciate the music.  And it would help us play together as a wind ensemble because we'd be more of team."

Mr. Francis thought for a minute then broke into a smile. After getting to know him while Josh was in the hospital, I was finding him much easier to talk to.  "That's a great idea," he replied.  "Maybe we could even do a concert at some point.  You let the other students know about it and I'll talk to Principal Muller about starting the group."

Soon after, Mr. Francis gave me the good news that the Chamber Music Club was now a go.  I got about 20 people to join from the orchestra and band, including Maya and Ken.  Mr. Francis helped me order appropriate music for each trio or quartet and arranged for us to have use of the band and orchestra rooms once a week after school.

Meanwhile, I showed some of my paintings to Mr. Wilson, who was in charge of the art club.  He was so impressed with my
work,
he invited me to join up immediately even though it was late in the year.  "But you need to stop copying other artists," he advised me.  "Dali and Picasso are great to study, but you need to find your own style.  Find your own voice."

I tried to listen and experimented with all types of colors and designs:  a
square here, a splash of blue there, a red line in the center.  I wasn't sure what I was going to come up with, but I figured my artistic vision would hit me when I was ready.

With all I was doing, though —- music, art, being there for Josh —- I still couldn't shake something from my mind: why were Josh and Ken fighting over that camera?

###

Josh would not discuss the incident, either with me or Lily.  His mom repeatedly asked him why he'd been in the middle of the street, but whenever she brought it up he'd say he was tired and close his eyes.  Eventually she turned to me for help.  "I need an answer," she said.  "I know I'm obsessing, but I think I have a right to know why my son did something so reckless."

When I tried to get him to open up, I had little success.  "Mel, just don't worry about it, okay?" 
he
groaned.  At this point, he was in a wheelchair but was able to move himself around in it.  "I got hit by a car out there; I barely remember the details.  I just want to look ahead, you know?  I have physical therapy and all this other stuff to worry about right now."

"No, I know," I said, taking his hand.  "I'm sorry if I brought up something unpleasant."

Unfortunately, Ken wasn't talking, either.  "It was a gift ... uh, from his mom," Ken said.  "I took it from him to look at it and things, uh, just got out of hand."  As he said this, he averted his eyes and scratched at the back of his neck.  I knew he was lying.

"I know for a fact that Lily didn't give Josh a camera," I told him, "so you're wrong there.  Come up with a better story."

Ken glared at me.  "Mel, I like you, but you're beginning to get on my nerves.  Just leave me alone, okay?  You don't think this is traumatic enough for me, feeling like it's my fault he got hurt?"

"Then tell me what happened," I pressed.  "Don't you think you'd feel better if you gave everyone the truth?"

Ken sighed.  "I just don't ... whenever you mention that day, I see him," he explained.  "I see him getting hit by that car and I just can't take it.  I want to move on and you're not letting me."

"But..."

"Leave me alone," he demanded and stormed away.

###

"Well, that didn't go so great," I complained to Lana afterward.  "Ken was absolutely no help.  I'm not crazy here, right?"  I asked.  "Something
is
going on."

"Oh, totally," Lana agreed.  She smirked.  "I'll bet there was something really stupid on that camera, like a video of Ken playing with himself."  She giggled.

"Gross!"  I shot back.  "Who'd record
that
?"

"Or maybe it's just Ken drunk at some party and acting like an idiot," she went on.  "I'm sure he's done some lame things."

"Maybe," I said, "but my gut tells me that it's bigger than that.  You know Josh well enough to know that he doesn't get rattled very easily.  He almost never gets angry."

"True.  The only other time I remember him being that mad was when those pictures of you came out..."

We both paused and looked at each other.  "Maybe that's it," Lana said.  "Maybe there were more photos of you."

"You know, you might be right.  But if this concerns me, I definitely deserve an answer."

###

The next day, Lana met me right after wind ensemble ended. 
Togther
we cornered Ken in the band room.  We figured that we'd have a better chance of getting him to talk if we outnumbered him —- and Lana could issue certain threats that only she could get away with.

"Hey, Ken," Lana said, flashing a big smile.  "How are
ya
?"

"Uh, hi, Lana," he replied, obviously surprised to see her being so friendly toward him.  "What's up?"

"Not too much," she said, playing with one of her curls.  "I just want some information."

"
Oookay
...."  Ken continued to eye her suspiciously.  "Can you just let me know what this is about already?  I don't have all day."

"What, you mean you don't like it when people hold out on you, you know, kind
of like what you're doing to Mel?"

"Oh come on, not that again," he groaned.  He turned to me.  "I told you everything I know."

"No, I don't think you did," Lana cut in.  "Now talk."

Ken rolled his eyes and prepared to head out.  "I so don't need this right now.  I'll talk to you guys later."

"It's 'later' now," I called after him.  "Sit!"

Ken whirled around.  "What?"

"You heard me.  Sit. 
Now
."

He obliged, but muttered a string of curses as he did so.

"Okay, now here's the deal," I told him.  I took a seat next to him so I could look him in the eyes.  "I know you don't want to talk.  But just because you want to keep quiet doesn't mean that we have to."

"What are you getting at?"

"Oh, I don't know... I figured that maybe Lana and I could go around the school and tell everyone stuff about you..."

"Yeah, like about the real size of certain things...
"  added
Lana.

"... and how those certain things are really, really small."

"Microscopic!" 
chuckled
Lana.

Ken crossed his legs and again swore under his breath.  "That's not true," he mumbled.

"But I'm an expert!"  Lana reminded him.  "I let you do me in a movie theater.  I know
all
."

"And I'm sure Kathy would join us if we asked nicely enough," I said.  "I mean, yeah, we're not best buddies or anything, but what's that they say about the enemy of your enemy being your friend?"

"Translation —- you're the enemy," Lana said.  "Trust me, it won't be pretty.  You're already in hot water with us girls because of the whole dumping someone on Valentine's Day thing.  And then this ... this wouldn't do much for your reputation now, would it."  She cackled.  "If Kathy and I set out to destroy you, you'll never date any girls in this school again. 
Never.
  You might as well be a monk ... or gay."

Ken's eyes widened and he popped up out of his chair.  His face turned such a dark shade of crimson, I swear, even his blonde hair had a pink tint to it.  "No!  Don't —- don't say anything," he pleaded.  "Please, please don't."  Lana shot me a satisfied glance.  "We'll talk," he told us. 
"Alright?
  Come by my house after school."

###

That evening, after I'd visited with Josh for a while, Lana's sister drove us to Ken's place.  He lived in the same neighborhood as Jan —- in other words, his folks were well-off —- but his home wasn't modern style like hers.  His family had an enormous
tudor
-style mansion with a long, winding driveway and a three-car garage.  It looked exactly like my image of an old manor home in England, which I guess is the look my parents were trying to create with our house.