Chapter 3

Chapter Three

 

           

 

“We need another guitarist now that Chris is going to college. The guys’ll be glad. Besides, I’m the talent. I should decide who’s in and who isn’t.”

Paul played a few notes on his guitar, uncertainty still making him hesitate.

“I don’t really think I’m good enough,” he said.

“Bullshit. You’re as good as me, better than Chris, probably better than Jimmy.” John lit a cigarette, then tossed his pack to me. We were in his living room, enjoying the freedom that came with winter break. I lit a cigarette for myself and for Paul.

“I just…don’t want to ruin the thing you’ve got going with those guys,” Paul said.

“Too bad. You’re too good to pass up. We need you if we’re ever going to make it. Tell him he’s good, Meg.”

“You’re good,” I said unconvincingly, flipping through a “Rolling Stone” magazine. Paul snorted.

“Thanks Meg, big help,” John said.

“No, wait, I’ll be honest,” I said, closing the magazine. “Paul, you’re good. You’re just as good as John and a hell of a lot better than the others in that s****y band�"“

“David’s a drummer,” John pointed out, grinning.

“Okay, except David,” I said impatiently. “Beside the point.”

“Just saying.”

“All you talk about is music and guitars and that stupid band of John’s. Even to Benny. It’s what you want to do. Who gives a f**k what his bandmates think? They’re not worth s**t. Do it if it’s what you want to do. And believe me, it’s what you want to do.”

John gave a low whistle. “Wow Meg. My hero.”

“Shush,” I said, smiling.

“You think I should do it?” Paul asked. I was slightly touched he cared about my opinion.

“If I say yes, will you shut up and just do it?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then hell yes. Do we have soda?”

“Love your priority,” John said, tossing me a can of diet coke. “And thanks for that.”

“Whatever. I want to come to band practice, okay?”

John shook his head bemusedly. “Why?”

“Because I want to stare at your a*s all day,” I said sarcastically. He reached over and pinched my thigh. I shrieked and leaped away, falling (accidentally) into Paul’s lap. He laughed and went for my stomach. I kicked at him and stumbled away, falling on my back on the floor.

“No really, why?” John asked pleasantly, as if nothing had happened. I stuck my tongue out at him.

“Where else do I have to go? Home? I spend every day with you guys, Paul especially, since you’re busy with the band. If you’re off at rehearsals, what am I going to do?”

“Alright. Come. But you won’t have much to do,” John warned.

“It’s better than sitting at home, twiddling my thumbs.”

Except, as it turned out, that wasn’t entirely true. By the end of the first week, their music was really old, especially Jimmy’s, who wasn’t very talented at writing and only knew how to rhyme ‘love’ with things like ‘dove’ and ‘above’. Just groundbreaking. Not to mention they played at the Vault three nights a week and I was there most of the time with them. Yeah, their music got old.

Then there were the arguments. God, they fought nonstop.

“Damn it, Jimmy,” John said, stopping the song for the fourth time before he’d even begun to sing. “Please play the f*****g C without being sharp.”

“That’s the first time I’ve done that,” Jimmy snapped. “Quit riding me. S**t.”

They started again, but Paul stopped them right away. “David, for christ’s sake, keep rhythm. You start on the downbeat, not the upbeat. I can’t even read music and I know that.”

I rolled my eyes, lighting a cigarette. How they got anything done was a mystery to me.

David was in the middle of a sharp retort when Paul threw up his hands, frustratedly sighing and heading impatiently for me, motioning for a cigarette.

            “Paul, come on,” Jimmy said. “We’re all making mistakes. What’s the point of rehearsing if you just give up?”

            “Really, there is no point since you have no talent and never do anything right,” Paul grumbled, lighting his cigarette.

“I did one note wrong once. F*****g get over it.”

“No, you did it wrong twice,” Paul snapped, flaring up. “We just thought we’d give you a chance to fix it yourself, which you obviously couldn’t.”

“Shut the f**k up,” David snarled. “You’re not f*****g band leader so just shut up!”

“Everyone be quiet,” John ordered, stepping between Paul and the rest of the band. “We’re a band, not a political party. S**t, can’t we just get along just for one practice? Paul, stop ruffling everyone’s feathers. David, Jimmy, quit ganging up on him. He’s as much a part of the band as you are.”

Jimmy gave a little growling snort. “He’s f*****g sixteen, but he acts like he’s our age. He’s just a kid and I’m so sick of him ordering us around.”

“Yeah, eighteen beats sixteen,” David said. “Learn your f*****g place already.”

“Hey, I may be two years younger than you, but I have four years worth of talent over you.”

“What did I just say?” John interrupted exasperatedly. He glanced at me. “Meg, help me out here.”

“Yeah, okay ask the girl who’s not part of the band,” David muttered, tossing his drumsticks aside and lighting a cigarette.

“And who’s got the hots for the kid,” Jimmy sneered. “All she does is come around and f*****g distract us all and try to be s****y for him.” He jerked his head at Paul. My face was hot and I wished I could slap him.

“Hey!” Paul threw his precious guitar aside and went for him. “Want to try insulting her again?” He pushed Jimmy hard. Jimmy lost it. I jumped up as the full fledged fight broke out, but John beat me to it. Forcing himself between them, he shouted for them to knock it off.  David grabbed Jimmy and I did my best to heave Paul back. He was breathing hard and looking murderous.

“If you start a fight again, any of you, I will f*****g throw you out of this band, got it?” John snarled, furious.

“Did you hear what he said?” Paul howled, struggling to break away from me and get at Jimmy.

“Paul, for once in your goddamn life, shut the hell up,” John said, struggling to stay calm.

“What’s going on?”

We all started and turned to see Benny standing in the doorway, stunned. He sometimes came to keep me company and stare at the one thing he didn’t have: a band. I felt a rush of relief to see a sane person, a third wheel to make me feel less like the center of attention in that fight.

“Nothing,” John said, calm and in control again, as if Benny’s ill-timed entrance had reminded him of his place in the band. “Right guys? No problems here, right?”

Jimmy and Paul glared at each other, hackles up. I nudged Paul, nodding at Jimmy.

“Fine,” Paul muttered, stepping toward him, chin still raised. “Sorry even though I was right.”

I sighed, rolling my eyes. What a man.

“Paul for christ’s sake,” John began, but Jimmy cut him off.

“No, don’t bother.” He picked his guitar up and thrust it into John’s hands, eyeing Paul. “I don’t want his apology.” He turned to John. “Keep the guitar. I don’t want it.” He grabbed his backpack. “Good luck finding another bass.”

Without a backward glance, he stormed out, purposely colliding with Paul. Paul tried to go after him, but John grabbed his collar and pulled him back, fuming.

“Now what?” David asked. “We have a gig on Saturday. How’re we going to do it without Jimmy?”

John’s shoulders slumped and he released Paul, who slipped out of my grasp and headed for the door, saying he needed a cigarette.

“Really, what happened?” Benny asked.

“They got in a fight,” John said shortly.

“Why?”

“Because they’re stupid f*****g guys,” I said acidly, folding my arms.

Glancing at me, something like his usual sparkle came back. He smiled.

“What’s the matter? Didn’t you like Paul fighting for your honor?”

“Oh yeah right, like I need a guy to fight my battles. I can take care of myself, thanks.”

“Yeah? Good for you. Besides, Jimmy’s just jealous. He’s got a crush on you.”

“Ha ha, you’re so hilarious.”

John turned to David. “Go home, rehearsal’s over. And don’t freak, Jimmy’ll be there. He’s just mad.”

As David started packing up, John said, “I need a beer. Anyone else interested?”

I nodded and he disappeared into Jalen’s kitchen.

“Okay, really, what happened?” Benny asked as we both sat on the ratty old couch we’d claimed as ours during band practice.

“Well, Jimmy said something and Paul got all high and mighty-“

“As usual.”

“Yeah and Jimmy and David got all pissed and they were all arguing. Then John told me to stop them and Jimmy said…something rude about me and Paul flipped and went for him. We were stopping them beating the crap out of each other when you showed up. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“What’d he say?”

My face reddened and I shuddered at the almost accurate accusation Jimmy had thrown at me. I avoided Benny’s gaze, wondering if he’d seen it too.

“It was dumb and so not worth starting a fight over,” I said evasively. Benny glanced curiously at me and I waited for him to push for details, but he just whistled instead.

“You’ve had an interesting day,” he said.

“That’s one way to put it, I guess,” I said, giggling a little.

“How would you put it?”

“A bad f*****g day.”

He laughed.

 

 

…           …             …

 

 

Paul was sitting on the curb, smoking. I sat next to him, setting a beer next to his foot.

“How many have you smoked?” I asked, merely trying to start an extremely awkward conversation for me.

“Don’t know. Thanks for this,” he said, motioning at the beer. “I think I need it.”

“Courtesy of Jalen’s fridge,” I said, lighting a cigarette for myself. We were quiet for a moment, probably both remembering the scene from inside.

“Sorry about Jimmy,” Paul muttered after a moment, not looking at me. “He’s an a*****e.”

“I don’t care,” I said frankly. “Yeah, he’s an a*****e, but he’s not the a*****e I’m friends with. As I recall, that’s you. And as I recall, I defend myself just fine and dandy against you. I don’t need you to, like, protect my reputation or anything. Especially with someone I don’t care about. I’m good, okay?”

“Yeah, I guess. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just…don’t flip out like that on me, got it?”

“Alright.” He smiled a little. “I got it.”

I stood and held out my hand.

“Besides,” I said, hauling him to his feet, “Jimmy would’ve kicked your a*s.”

He laughed, looking more like himself. “Oh yeah? Well you would’ve had my back, right?”

“Oh of course. And, you know, I would’ve been a ton of help, cheering you on from the sidelines.”

We laughed and he put his arm around me, walking towards the garage and sipping his beer. At the door, I stopped him.

“I just…you know, thanks for wanting to defend me. Even if it was an annoying macho thing to do, in a way, was kind of cool.”

He grinned. “No problem. It’s what I do.” He suddenly leaned over and kissed my cheek. “No one messes with my best friend while I’m there.”

I snorted and pushed him to the door.

“Let’s get your guitar, Superman.”

 

 

…               …                                               …

 

 

The next day, John came to school. I was a little surprised since he’d been ditching so much to sleep and rehearse, yet there he was, looking extremely uncomfortable and fidgety in his school uniform. I had to admit, it wasn’t really his style, even with the sleeves rolled up, the intentionally ripped up school-issued belt, and the black and red high-top converse imitations. He’d never followed the dress codes very well and the school had long ago given up trying to make him.

At lunch he came to our group’s table in the cafeteria. I could sense our friends’ excitement when he strolled up and they all moved quickly to the side when he made it clear I was the one he wanted to sit next to. As I’d long since gotten over being star-struck by him, I didn’t do much to acknowledge the little honors he bestowed on me.

“Hey Meg,” he said, looking vaguely worried.

“Nice to see you at school for once.”

He smiled distractedly.

“I’ve got a question for you.”

“Shoot.”

“Do you know anyone who can replace Jimmy as a bass in the band?”

“You really think he’s not coming back?” I asked, glancing over at the senior tables where he sat with David and all of John’s senior acquaintances; like his uniform, he had never really found it easy to fit in with all of the rich, snobbish kids in his grade and rarely sat with them.

“I talked to him at break and he pretty much said no frickin’ way. I’m kind of worried about it, cause we only have a week till our next gig.”

“Do you need a bass?” I asked. He gave me appalled look.

“I will ignore that you just said that.”

I shrugged. “What the hell do I know about bands?”

“Why would we have a bass if we didn’t need it?”

“To make it sound pretty?”

“Which is the main function of a band. To make pretty music that people will buy.”

“Well sor-ry.”

“I forgive you. Do you have anyone in mind?”

“Well, you know, Benny got a guitar a couple of months ago. He’s actually pretty good. He might be passable.”

“Passable? Is this what we’ve come to?”

I glared at him. “Okay, I take that back. He’s actually really good. You should try him out.”

“He can’t play the bass.”

“But Paul can. Put Paul on there and make Benny the lead guitar.”

John looked doubtful. “He’s fifteen,” he pointed out. “The club is eighteen and over. No way will the manager think he’s eighteen.”

“It’s the Vault. No one’ll care. They won’t even ask.”

He hesitated. “Yeah, but, see the thing is, we’re not going to the Vault on Saturday.”

I raised my eyebrows. “And where exactly are you going?”

He didn’t meet my eyes. “This club called the Nirvana.”

“Never heard of it.”

“Well, no that’s because it’s in LA.”

It took a moment to process that. “LA?”

“Yeah.”

“LA? As in Los Angeles? As in a completely different city than the one we’re in right now?”

“Uh…yeah.”

“How the hell do you have a gig there?”

“Well, I was doing some research for a project-“

I snorted. “More like looking up porn or something.”

“Well it wasn’t a school project. Anyway, I was doing research and I found a site about the place and they said they were holding auditions. So I sent them a recording of us and they called us in. We’re going on Thursday to audition for real.”

“Thursday? How the hell are you going to pull that off? You have school.”

“Uh, yeah, been meaning to tell you about that.” He scooted away from me cautiously. “I’m not doing school anymore.”

“Not doing school anymore? What is it, a drug?”

“Unfortunately not.”

“You’re leaving me? You’re ditching me for a stupid club? John!”

He glanced around and I noticed the whole table was watching us in alarm, most of them looking at John. He shrugged.

“Sorry guys.” He turned back to me, forgetting our spectators almost immediately. “I’m sorry Meg, but it’s really not my fault.”

“Oh yeah, I’m really going to believe you didn’t make this decision on your own.”

“I actually didn’t.”

I started to berate him some more, but stopped at the look on his face, the miserable earnestness in his eyes. “What? What happened?”

“My idiot f*****g English teacher,” he said, scowling.

“Who?”

“Mr. f*****g Delaney.”

“Oh right. I thought you were trying to get out of his class,” I said, remembering his rantings about his cruel English teacher, who intentionally used him as the class idiot and bullied him endlessly for his dismal reading skills.

“I tried and Delaney got all pissy. He told them how I’m always disrupting class and breaking his stupid rules and s**t like that. Then they asked all my teachers and every single one of them said I should ‘look into an alternative form of learning’. It was just another way of them saying I’m a dumbass student.”

“Way harsh,” I said indignantly. “You are not a dumbass.”

“Whatever. They aren’t going to expel me or anything, cause I haven’t done anything wrong, but they made it pretty clear everyone would fully support me leaving permanently. I must look bad on the school or something. They just want me to be, like, a hopeless case that they couldn’t do anything about.” He descended into a sullen silence. I shot annoyed looks at the group, who were openly staring at him, and they quickly turned back to their lunches. “Whatever,” John continued. “I hate school anyway.”

“Why can’t they ask me to leave?” I said, mockingly angry. “Why can’t I piss off all my teachers and get asked to leave and head off to LA to rock out?”

He smiled. “It does sound pretty bad a*s, doesn’t it?”

“Damn straight.” I picked at my skirt �" my really stupid and ugly skirt which I’d always hated �" and suddenly wondered how I’d get through the rest of the year without John there to distract me. “What about David and Paul? Are they dropping out?”

“David is. Paul isn’t sure he wants to, but he’s sixteen. He can if he decides to.”

“Benny can just fill in,” I said, going back to the start of our conversation. “Get him a fake id, pretend he’s eighteen. No one’ll really care, once they hear him play. You might not even care. And like you said, Paul’s only sixteen, so you’ll have to get him a fake id anyway.”

“True. I’ll have to hear Benny first though. And break the news to Paul that he has to play bass. He’ll be upset.”

“He will?”

“Oh yeah, he doesn’t like playing bass at all. But I guess I’ll have to convince him. Only if Benny’s worth it, though. I’m not starting a fight with Paul if he’s not even good enough.”

“He’s good enough. Even you’ll be crazy about his playing once you’ve heard him. The only thing is, he can’t read music to save his life, but neither can you so don’t you dare judge him on that. He’s as good as you and Paul for sure.”

“Yeah, well you know nothing about music so…” He pulled out a cigarette and lit up.

I stared at him. “Uh, John, you realize you’re on school property, right?” Despite my question, I was hardly surprised. It was such a John thing to do. “The property of a really strict school, I might add.”

He chuckled. “Yes, but I’m not doing school anymore, remember? Besides, it’ll give them an excuse to expel me.”

The end of lunch bell rang. I stood, grabbing my backpack. He did the same and we headed for the exit. I tossed my lunch bag in the trash and he stopped at a nearby table and pulled off his blazer and shoved it into his backpack. We left and started down the crowded hall. He grabbed my arm and steered me to the back exit. There weren’t many people back there other the loners who couldn’t face the crowds in the cafeteria. They shuffled past, ignoring us.

“Delaney’s class is next so I’m going to split, okay?”

“Okay, see you after school.”

 You really should skip more often,” he said walking backwards so he could still face me. “It’s good for the soul.”

“Maya was a horrible guardian for you,” I said, walking in the opposite direction, towards the crowds still passing by. “And now I’ll probably be late, thanks to you.”

“You’re just like your mom,” he called after me, laughing. I flipped him off without turning back and a few moments later I heard the door clang shut.

Honestly, I was nothing like Mom, for which I thanked god every day. The only reason I never cut class was because she checked my absences and tardies to make sure none were unexcused or on days she didn’t already know about. Had there been any like that, she would have known immediately whose fault it was and forbade me to ever hang out with John or Paul again. The only reason she allowed me that one freedom after school was because of my perfect attendance. It was also, in her mind, the only evidence she had that I wasn’t off having sex with one of them. Or both of them. Ick.

I thought about John’s news all day, worrying about what would happen if Paul blew off school and they all moved to a city like LA. Or somewhere even worse, like New York. How would I survive without my best friends? Without Paul, with whom I’d been inseparable for three years? Jessica and Nelson were fine during school, but they could never be close to me the way Paul and John were. Especially Paul. Beautiful, funny, perfect Paul, who’d defended me when Jimmy insulted me, who’d first introduced me to Marlboros, first taught me to get high, had been the first friend to get me away from home every day and help me have fun in a way Mom never wanted for me. It hurt, literally hurt, to think he might not be around the next year. What would I do? My life would be so boring. How would I spend all of my time? God it sounded so pathetic, but Paul and John, and now Benny, were the only people I felt happy around.

I went through the rest of the day with a headache.