Chapter 6
Over the next couple of weeks, as we prepared for our impromptu performance in the cafeteria—planning ways to set up quickly, get over any nerves before we ran out of time, and leave before someone brought in teachers—Jessica treated me differently. She wasn’t as openly mean, but what worried me was how every time something happened that she normally would have made fun of me for, she’d simply smile and text on her phone. I didn’t understand it… Maybe she was talking to Maya, but I doubted it. I started to hope that she’d found a boyfriend, and he was helping her with her anger issues.
On November seventh, we felt like we were finally ready. I’d been working on my nerves by singing in front of my mom, and our practices were sounding really good. It was a rainy day out, so we knew there’d be a good audience.
The cafeteria had a dingy atmosphere even on the brightest days, thanks to the dark brown tile lining the floor and matching bricks that served as three of the walls. The only aspect that seemed slightly modern was the fourth wall, consisting of seven tall glass windows. The spot we’d picked out was just in front of the middle one, since most students’ attention was already focused outside and there was a power outlet close by.
I could hear my heart thudding in my ears as the three of us met up outside the cafeteria. I lowered my bag, retrieved my microphone and the small attached speaker and waited for Joey to head in first. He was carrying the amp, and Charlie would follow with both guitars. As anxious as I was, I was excited too; we were like bank robbers, in a way. I imagined everyone at school would talk about the stunt for years to come.
The walk in was slow, deliberate. We didn’t want to alert anyone to what we were doing. I saw one boy look at us, stare for a second, and tap his friend.
Joey led the way down the rows of navy blue tables, grunting as he lifted the amp over a girl who refused to get out of the way. Jessica. I could hardly believe when she looked at me… And smiled.
Not a kind smile. A leer, a malicious grin. As if she knew what we were doing, and could hardly imagine anything more entertaining than making fun of us afterward. I stopped in my tracks, but regained control of my legs after a moment. I couldn’t let Charlie and Joey down; I couldn’t forget our contract. They had my back, no matter what Jessica did.
All too soon, we reached the middle window and power outlet. I fumbled with the cord for my speaker, barely managing to calm my shaking fingers long enough to work it into the socket. It felt like I only took a few seconds, but when I looked up Charlie and Joey were already sliding under their guitar straps.
“Hello,” I said, pressing the power button on my speaker; my voice echoed throughout the cafeteria. “We’re Auburn!” I couldn’t help but grin at the sea of smiling faces in front of us. Granted, they might have simply been happy for the break from a mundane school day, but I let myself think they were smiling as a form of encouragement.
Joey led in with a thrumming trio of notes on his bass, repeating them in quick succession. Charlie cut in with his slower harmony, and I tapped my free hand against my leg to count down to my cue.
Three, two, one… “To one pain, we add another. When you’re hurting like no other, sometimes you just can’t take it in stride…”
Two-beat rest; I had just enough time to congratulate myself on making it through the first lyric before I had to continue. “If you can’t stand, you hopeless sufferer—to one trial, here take another. Don’t collapse until the day you survive.”
A lot of the smiles turned to frowns, but I figured that was okay; they were probably just thinking about the lyrics. “And maybe you’ll find… No not happiness, but just a little less sadness. Just a little less pain to deny. Not satisfaction, but perhaps just some compassion. Something you won’t have to keep inside. Maybe one day you’ll survive.”
I spotted the lunch lady—a short, wrinkled woman—working her way toward us, at about the same time as two male teachers jogged into the cafeteria. They didn’t look very happy; perhaps they didn’t appreciate the lyrics. I hesitated to sing the next verse, but knew that if I didn’t take my chance, in a few seconds I wouldn’t have one. “To your sorrows, add one more. When you feel like death’s door, is coming close at your own hand. Maybe you’ll remember, that this isn’t our December…” I trailed off as the teachers reached us.
They all started speaking over each other, but they were saying the same thing. “Principal’s office, now!”
There was one last thing I had to do. “Thank you, L.A.!” I shouted, jumping above their shoulders so that everyone could hear me. There was no outburst of applause, but I heard some clapping. As we gathered our stuff and walked out of the cafeteria, I saw a few nods. Enough that I felt just the tiniest bit successful. We’d taken a chance, and no matter how much trouble we got in, I knew it had been the right thing to do.
Even Jessica grinned as we passed. I let myself think that it was different than her smile when we’d come in, but it wasn’t. At least, if I was being honest. It was the same Cheshire grin as before.
Since the teachers let us lead the way, we turned left out of the cafeteria to pick up our backpacks and put everything away. I was finished first, since all I had to do was drop the speaker and microphone in and zip up; I rocked awkwardly on the balls of my feet while I waited for Charlie to put the guitars away.
The halls were nearly deserted, echoing with the sound of a half dozen pairs of footsteps as we walked toward the staircase. The few students we did pass wore expressions ranging from bemused to befuddled, but I hardly paid them any mind. We’d go to the principal and she’d tell us we shouldn’t have interrupted lunch and send us on our way.
The lunch lady left us at the foot of the stairs, but the two teachers accompanied us the whole way. They pushed past once we’d entered the main office, in order to speak to Principal Wroth before us.
“Well, that… Could’ve been worse,” Joey said, falling down into a padded wood chair. “At least they didn’t throw their pudding at us.”
I chuckled, before noticing Charlie’s expression. He was wincing like a cat about to cough up a hairball, but I suppose that made sense. Because of my clothing choices, I’d been sent to the principal at least a dozen times throughout the semester, and Joey kept getting sent because people took his jokes as bullying, but Charlie probably hadn’t ever been in that situation. I caught his eye and smiled at him.
“It’s okay. Principal Wroth likes to dish out punishment, but she does it quickly, like a band-aid. If we’re gonna get in trouble, we’ll know pretty quickly once she calls us in.” It occurred to me that Charlie’s parents might actually care if they received a phone call from the principal; my mom might have too, if I hadn’t been able to beat her home and erase every one Wroth left.
We didn’t talk much for a while, partly because I was trying to listen to the conversation going on inside Principal Wroth’s office and partly because I was actually starting to worry about the kind of trouble we were in. If we were just going to get another call home, the conversation wouldn’t have lasted as long.
When the two teachers ducked out of the office and walked past us, we took it as our cue to head in. I led the way, faking a confident swagger like I always did in front of the principal.
She looked tired, with puffy bags under her eyes and an expression like she was fighting a yawn. “Miss Nimzovitch, Mister Innis… Lovely seeing you two again. And you are…?” She trailed off, looking at Charlie.
“Mister Wilson,” he said. “Um, I mean, Charles Wilson. Charlie.” He fell into one of the chairs in front of her desk, and Joey took the other. There weren’t enough seats for all of us, so I stood off to the side, leaning against the wall while we waited to hear the penalty for whatever rule we’d broken.
Principal Wroth cleared her throat. “Miss Nimzovitch, that is a wall, not a chair.” She looked back to Charlie. “Nice to make your acquaintance, Mister Wilson. Although I suppose I wish it were under better circumstances. Now, who was
the author of that—ahem, the song you just played in the cafeteria?”
Charlie glanced at me, his green eyes full of a fear that I didn’t quite understand. Technically, we’d written the lyrics together, but if he didn’t want to take credit… “I did,” I said, stepping forward.
“Oh, I—suppose that makes sense.” The principal pursed her lips, tapping her fingers on the desk as if she was expecting more information. “Alright, is there anything any of you would like to say about the disturbance you caused?”
“At least we were good,” Joey said with a wry grin.
“Yeah, and technically we didn’t disturb any learning,” I said, citing the rule I thought we’d come closest to breaking.
Principal Wroth pointed to something on her desk that I couldn’t quite see. “The Code of Conduct asks all students to remain civil and respectful, and I think we can all agree that your impromptu rock concert was disrespectful towards those trying to enjoy a quiet lunch.”
Jesus, I thought, she’s really stretching on that one. “Well, doesn’t the Code of Conduct also say that you have to explain inappropriate behavior to us before we get punished?” I asked hopefully.
“Yes, if the punishment is to be suspension or expulsion.” She paused a moment, no doubt to let it sink in. The message was clear: if we did something like this again, both of those options would be on the table. “What I’m going to do is send you home for the day. This will not count as suspension, and so it won’t go on your permanent records, but you must have a parent pick you up. This is so that I can be assured that they are actually aware of your punishment.” Her eyes were on me, as if she knew I’d been erasing her messages. “Mister Innis, Mister Wilson, you may wait in the main office. Miss Nimzovitch, please take a seat.”
Joey winked at me on his way out, but Charlie didn’t seem to be taking the news nearly so well. I waited for the door to close behind them before crossing to one of the chairs opposite the principal and sitting down.
“Mr. Schmitt mentioned that your song included suicidal themes,” Principal Wroth said. “Would you care to address that?”
“Okay. I’m not suicidal.”
“I understand, but hopefully you can see how my hands are somewhat tied in this matter.” She shook her head. “If, God forbid, something should happen because I fail to respond appropriately, I’m not sure I could live with that.”
At least she had the decency to avoid mentioning that she’d probably be fired if that happened, too. “Look, I’m not suicidal. I’ve never been suicidal. It’s just not who I am. So I think it would be the wrong reaction to punish me for a song lyric.”
She leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes and exhaling slowly as if she was weighing her options. “Miss Nimzovitch, I would never punish you for something like that. I’m just planning to refer you to the counseling office. If you are having any thoughts of suicide or self-harm, I want you to promise me that you’ll see one of our counselors.”
Well, it was better than getting suspended for something Charlie had written. “Okay, I will,” I promised, although I was sure I’d never have to go. “And by the way, my mom’s at work, so I don’t know how you expect her to pick me up.”
“If that’s true, then you will either have to remain in the main office until the final bell or call your father.”
My father. For some reason, I didn’t want to tell Principal Wroth that he wasn’t really in the picture. Without waiting for her to dismiss me, I stood up and walked out of her office.
Auburn: Outcasts and Underdogs Page 8