Revenge Of A Band Geek Gone Bad (9 page)

That did it.  Principal Muller's face clouded over and his soul-sucking eyes emerged.  Guess he could take some cursing, but wasn't thrilled about Josh taunting his authority.  "You know, I try to be very fair, especially when it comes to
you
Kowalski, but you need to show me respect," he said in his low voice.  "And that's not the way to do it."  He sighed and beckoned to Josh.  "I gave you one chance.  Now come with me."

Josh didn't argue, but turned and winked at me as he followed Muller.  "That was way too easy," he mouthed.

###

Later on in band, Josh stopped by my chair.  "Okay, it's done," he said excitedly.  "I had to listen to a boring-lecture from Muller and got a week's worth of before-school detention, but it was worth it."

"That's great," I told him, but secretly hoped that it wouldn't work.  It still seemed too risky a plan, especially since he'd already gotten on Muller's bad side.

Once Josh stepped away, Kathy turned to me.  She wore a sour expression as if she'd just taken a whiff of poo, but even so, her hair still looked perfect.  "What's with you and Josh?" she asked.  "I see him driving you sometimes and at your locker.  When did you guys get all buddy-buddy?"

I shrugged.  "We just know each other from band."  I could tell she was dying to know just how "buddy-buddy" he and I were, but I wasn't about to open up to
Kathy
.

Kathy raised a neatly-trimmed eyebrow.  "You know, I hope you don't like him because you're just setting yourself up to get hurt," she warned.  She twirled a red curl around her finger.  "I've seen him do this with like, a million girls.  He'll flirt with them just to get attention and then move on when he gets what he wants.  Hell, he tried to do that with me," she laughed, almost to herself.  She then turned her attention back to me. "But let's face it, there's no way he'd ever go out with you.  He's probably just using you for something, you know."

I turned away from her to show I wasn't listening, but I worried that she could be right.  Why else would someone like Josh, who always had a date, invite someone like me to his house?  Then again, he'd told his mom about me.  Even I know that guys don't talk about you to their mothers unless they at least consider you to be a friend.  "Oh come on, you didn't really think he likes you or anything, do you?"  Kathy was saying.  "Get real."  She clucked her tongue.  "God, you're so
sad
sometimes,
Smellinda
."

I whipped around, the anger rising in my throat.  "Would you just mind your
own business?” I hissed.

"Ooh, someone's touchy today," she said.

I picked up my flute and got going on my warm-ups.  Suddenly Josh's letter idea was a lot more appealing.

###

But as the week wore on, that uneasiness kept churning inside of me.  Most of it was because I was worried about our plan, but part of it had to do with that tingly-nauseated feeling I'd get whenever I'd think about Josh.  Turns out it was great for my diet; I could barely eat!  I had to admit, I liked having something to look forward to, even if I did involve doing something that was possibly illegal.  Having a secret was exciting and after having spent my entire life trying to follow the rules, it was kind of fun to break them.

###

Josh took me to school on the day of the event.  I hadn't slept at all the night before, and as I downed my fourth cup of black coffee (which was so gross, even with sugar, but I seriously needed it), I could barely keep my thoughts straight.

"How will we even know if she got the letter?" I said.  "What if she didn't and we've been worrying for nothing?"

"Believe me, we'll know," Josh said.  He lowered the volume on his favorite radio station.  "We'll know when she gets up and starts teaching a class."  He cracked up.

"What if she knows it's a joke?  She might just see the letter, think it's ridiculous and toss it."

Josh raised an eyebrow.  "But it was sent from the school.  It has the Sequoia High seal on it.  Besides," he said, "I'm pretty certain she'll totally buy it."

"She may be mean, but she's not stupid."

"No, she's not stupid," Josh agreed.  "But she loves to have her ego stroked.  When you've spent your whole life being a princess and having everyone tell you how beautiful and
fantabulously
wonderful you are
,
you get used to it.  So her getting this honor is probably just to be expected in her mind."

"I don't know..." I told him.  I'd known Kathy for a while and it didn't seem like you could pull a lot over her.  She was always getting perfect grades in classes and I often saw her friends asking her for help with their homework.  Look at the
way she'd figured out how I liked Josh.  It certainly wasn't like I'd told her anything.

"Trust me, I know a lot of girls and I've known ones like Kathy," Josh said.  I didn't really want to hear about all of these girls, but I let him continue.  "So I have a pretty good idea about what makes people tick."

I laughed.  "Your mom said something similar to me; she said she 'knows' people and that she could read my aura."

He shrugged.  "I guess I get it from her." 

"What if she told her friends about it?  What if she showed it to them and they said, 'Kathy, that letter's a fake,' and she was like, 'Yeah, you're so right,' and then they vow to find out who sent it?"  I babbled.  Man, my head was swimming to the point where I didn't even know what I was saying.  It felt as if it had been stuffed with cotton and then ripped back open.  "What if she told everyone and now all these other people know?"

"Good.  Let her," Josh said.  "It's a great achievement.  She should be very proud."

"But she didn't really
do
anything," I yelled.  This just made Josh laugh for some reason, but it gave me a headache.  I slumped down in my seat.  "Okay," I went on, "what if she made copies of the note, you know, for her resume?"

He shrugged.  "Not like our fingerprints are on it.  I trashed the original and erased it from my drive."

"Well, what if she told her parents and they come to the school and complain and then we get expelled and I can't get into college and oh my God, my parents would kill me....!"  Yeah, I was still rambling, but the coffee had apparently short-circuited my brain.  I made a mental note to stay away from that stuff.

"Look, Mel,
nothing's
gonna
happen to us, okay?"  Josh interrupted.  "I have it all under control."  He smiled at me.  "Don't you trust me?"

"We're so dead," I moaned.

"Hey," he said, squeezing my shoulder.  Despite myself, I relished the touch —- his hand felt so warm!  "Everything will be fine.  They'll never suspect
you
.  And if by some million-in-one chance we are
caught," he said.  "I'll take all the blame.  I promise.  I won't let anything bad happen to you."

I wanted to believe him.  I wanted to be sure that this would work out.  But then a more urgent matter came up, one which at that moment took precedence over our project.

"Oh my God, Josh, can you pull over someplace quickly?"  I asked, wriggling around in my seat.  "After all that coffee, I really have to pee!'

###

Josh and I arrived early for band that day.  We eagerly waited for Kathy and Mr. Francis to show up.

"You just lay low, do your usual warm-up thing," he instructed.  "Meanwhile, I'll create a diversion and hold off Francis.  We only need to give her a few minutes, anyway."

Soon Mr. Francis strolled down the hall standing out amidst the crowd in a red velvet blazer and green pants.  From a distance, he looked like a very fat, disgruntled Christmas elf. 
"Hey, Mr. Francis, Mr. Francis!"
Josh called out.  "I need to talk to you."

Our conductor's lips curved into a frown, a.k.a. the standard expression he wore whenever he had to deal with Josh.  "This better be good, Kowalski," he growled.  "You already waste enough of my time as it is."

I expected to see Josh curse out Mr. Francis ... or launch into a tap-dance, but he simply told our conductor,

"Oh, I was thinking of getting a new trumpet because this one's getting all beat up.  Can you recommend one?"

At the mention of something music-related, Mr. Francis's unhappy expression disappeared and he actually seemed to be well, pleased, that Josh had asked for his advice.  "Well, there are many good brands," he began, his voice booming in the hallway.  "I'll tell you which ones I prefer..."

Their voices trailed off as I went back into the band room and took my seat next to Maya.  So far, everything seemed the same as always.  As everyone warmed up their instruments, there was that familiar roar of notes and murmuring.

And then Kathy arrived.  She always wears the latest fashions and is put-together, but this outfit was positively traffic stopping.  She wore a tight-fitting, but not too revealing, copper suit that went well with her red hair, and her long locks were tied back in a loose, low bun. She finished off the look with a pair of matching gold sandals and a bunch of long necklaces.  She was just like one of those teachers who young boys dream about, the ones who look like they're all business, but then let down their hair and are stunning.

Of course when she entered, everyone stopped what they were doing and stared.  The room was dead silent, which if you think about it, is pretty freaky for a
band room.  Kathy didn't care that she was being gawked at; she smiled broadly, obviously loving the attention.

"Hi, guys!" 
she
called out, giving a little wave as if she were Miss America.  A couple of the guys in the sax section whistled.  She looked around for a moment, possibly for Mr. Francis, then shrugged and stood up on his podium.  "Um, guys?" she called out.  She took a pencil out of her bag and rapped on his podium the way he always does with his baton.  "Um, can I have everyone's attention, please?"

Given that she already
had
the band's attention, this was a pretty silly question, but she pressed on.  I couldn't quite comprehend that she seemed to be buying that ridiculous letter we'd sent, but she was all set to teach us.  "Um, today's my day to do some work for the 'Students
For
Students' program," she explained.  "I was assigned to teach the band.  In all honesty, I don't know much about conducting, but I do know about music, so please bear with me.  I hope my expertise in other areas will compensate."

I hated to admit it, but I was impressed.  She was obviously nervous, but kept it together and showed great poise under stress.  She also wasn't pretending to know everything like some teachers
do
and was —- dare I say?
—- showing some humility.
  That was certainly a first for her.

"Now, we usually start up with some kind of warm-up, but I want to try something different today," she said.  "I know for some people, like me for instance, it's hard to jump right into playing an instrument.  Especially since this is the last period.  We all need to relax first."

She motioned for everyone to stand.  Maya gave me a funny look, but I shrugged and got out of my chair.  The other band members also seemed confused, but followed her instructions.  I guess they assumed that Mr. Francis had put her up to this.

Kathy closed her eyes and raised her arms above her head as if she were reaching for the heavens.  "Keep your shoulders back and your head held high," she instructed in a soft, whispery voice.  "Now take a deep breath.  Feel your chakras and auras flowing.  Let your thoughts be free.  Breathing is essential to music and we want to be able to breathe without any obstacles stopping us up."  As she said this, she wiggled around, waving her hands in the air, I guess so she could shake up those chakras.  Instead of coming off like the yoga instructor she seemed to think she was, she looked as if she were getting electrocuted.  I closed my eyes so I wouldn't be able to see her and willed myself not to lose it.  "I won't crack up," I kept thinking.  "I won't crack up,
Iwontcrackup
!"

I wasn't the only one having a hard time keeping it together, because I could
hear people quietly chuckling all around me.  Maya had her hand over her mouth and was choking back giggles through her palm; in the back, Ken and the other trumpets stuck out their tongues and made faces.  One of the drummers held up his phone, no doubt filming the spectacle.  But Kathy, who had to be deaf and blind if she didn't notice the commotion, ignored us and continued.  "Stretch your arms up way over your head," she called out.  "Reach for the sun.  Stretch everything out, including your fingertips.  Feel those muscles contract and relax.  The last thing a musician needs is strained muscles or cramped fingers."

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.