Auburn: Outcasts and Underdogs

by Valerie Thomas

  Chapter 9

  I spent most of the next day alone, trying to write song lyrics even though it was all but impossible. My mind was still fixated on Loser McGee; I kept checking it obsessively, until my phone ran out of battery around two in the afternoon. With a sigh, I hopped to my feet and headed for the charger.

  The plastic cable was hanging off Mom’s nightstand, like always. I grabbed it and plugged my phone in. For a few seconds, I just sat there waiting for it to show that it was connected. Once the screen lit up with a little battery icon, I let myself fall down on the bed, lying on my back as I tried not to think of Loser McGee.

  The sound of someone inserting a key into the lock of our front door made me sit up, twisting to see who it could be. It was probably just Mom, but if so, she was home early. I didn’t exactly rush to the door, but after a few minutes I stood up and made my way into the living room. I couldn’t see her from the hall, but when I took a step forward I saw her arm resting on our blue couch.

  “Hey sweetie, how did your Finals go?” she asked as I came into full view. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail, and Kent was beside her on the couch, wearing a stained gray shirt.

  “Pretty well, I guess.”

  “I was thinking we could have some more family time,” she said. “I feel like the two of you should get to know each other better.”

  Great, I wanted to say, with as much sarcasm as I could muster. “Oh, okay.”

  His fake smile was obvious. “Yeah, Nina and I were just talking about how awesome it would be if we moved in together, and we agreed that it might be best if you and I were… You know, if we weren’t total strangers when that happens.”

  “Mhm.” I wasn’t exactly in the mood to pretend that I cared about Kent. I was doing better than yesterday, but not by much.

  “We have a whole day planned,” Mom said. “We were gonna go bowling and then—“

  I cut her off. “I have band practice in about an hour. You guys can still go bowling, though.”

  “Ashley.” She cleared her throat. “We are going to go bowling. You can miss practice for one day.”

  “Actually, I can’t Mom. Charlie and Joey and I signed a contract.” I could feel myself getting heated; I was more upset by what I’d been reading than by anything Mom was doing, but it manifested as anger at her. How dare she decide that she wanted to play the part of caring mother when I was trying to deal with my own issues? “I get that you like to pretend like you care about me every once in a while, and I’m usually fine with helping you with that, but not today. I’m gonna go to band practice and come home and cook myself a microwave dinner, like I have every freaking night this past month.”

  “Ashley!” Mom hissed through clenched teeth. “You know I’ve been working myself to death, trying to save money for you!”

  My eyes shifted to Kent; it was almost amusing to watch him shift uncomfortably. “Right. And how are you planning on spending this ‘money for me’?”

  I could see the pain in her expression, a mirror of the sorrow I’d felt the day before. “It’s for a house. A real house. Kent and I figured out that if we both pool our money we could get a place where you would have your own bedroom. And a bathroom too…”

  “Well I don’t want to live with Kent,” I said, glaring at him. He had no right to come in and take my mom from me. Didn’t he know that our unspoken agreement was limited to dates and the occasional conjugal visit? Moving in was a step I wasn’t prepared for, wasn’t used to. It was another wrinkle in my already hopelessly complicated life. I wanted to stomp my feet and just scream. Scream about Loser McGee, scream that I wasn’t suicidal, scream that it wasn’t fair that Mom was trying to make me move in with a man I hardly knew.

  “Oh, honey, I know that this might be hard for you to deal with. But that’s why I wanted to have today. If you make it through the day and don’t want us to move in together, we won’t.” I hated her for that. She was being kind, and I wanted her to be mean. I wanted her to be someone I could be mad at.

  Despite my best intentions, I felt my lower lip tremble. “O-okay,” I whispered.

  “Thank you. I was thinking we could go to that bowling alley down on Tenth. You know, the one with the free popcorn?” She spoke in a soothing tone, as if she knew I was still on the verge of a breakdown.

  Despite how I was feeling, I managed a shrug. “Sounds good to me.” Kent sighed and got up off the couch; I let him lead the way out of the apartment, while Mom squeezed my shoulders and walked out with me. I hadn’t realized how long it had been since the last time we’d been that close—the past couple months, even when we were hanging out she was usually closer to Kent than me—but the realization only brought me to the edge of tears.

  For so long, it had been us against the world. Just the two of us, and I felt as if Kent was deliberately tearing that apart. Between him and all the work she was doing, I was losing her. As we made our way down the steps, I tried to focus on something else. I counted my steps: one two, one two three.

  “So, how’s band practice going?” Mom asked.

  “Pretty well.” I wasn’t sure what else to say. I couldn’t tell her about the cafeteria performance without also possibly getting in trouble.

  “Oh, that’s good. How about school? Are you still worried about those plays in English?”

  I thought about it for a moment. To my surprise, I wasn’t. I’d performed the main part in three plays since Jessica first signed me up, and all it had done was make me better at performing. “Not really. That was last semester’s problem, I guess.”

  As we reached the bottom of the steps, Kent slowed down so that we could catch up. He glanced at me, opened his mouth to say something, and then looked away. Maybe he was feeling just as awkward as I was; probably more, since I had the sting of Loser McGee to focus on.

  It occurred to me that I should text Charlie and Joey to let them know that I wouldn’t be able to make it to practice. I pulled out my phone and sent Charlie and Joey a quick message, looking up just as we reached Kent’s beat-up silver SUV. He pressed a button to unlock the doors and I climbed in the back seat, leaving the front for him and my mom.

  “Did you ever come up with a name for your band?” he asked as he clicked his seatbelt.

  “Yeah, we’re calling ourselves Auburn.” My phone buzzed with Charlie’s response, just a quick little kk. I frowned at the text, trying to figure out what that meant. Hopefully he wasn’t mad, but it seemed short.

  He probably wasn’t mad… At least, I didn’t think he would be, after what had happened the day before. Maybe he was just worried. Kent twisted the key, and after a couple tries his engine finally started.

  I kept tapping my phone against my thigh as Kent drove, hoping that either Charlie or Joey would send another response. I’d even take one of Joey’s awful jokes, just so that I could be sure they weren’t mad at me. The bowling alley on Tenth Street wasn’t too far; Mom and I had walked there once when I was young, and it had only taken about fifteen minutes. Despite her claim that they had free popcorn, I distinctly remembered that they’d charged us for it the last time we’d gone.

  “How’s school going?” Kent asked, breaking the silence.

  I wanted to blow the question off—after all, the answer was hardly interesting—but at least he was trying to have a conversation. “It’s going well. I mean, I’m not about to get on the honor roll or anything, but I only have a couple B’s so far. And a C, but I’m pretty sure I did well enough on the Final to bring that up to a C plus.”

  Mom shifted in her seat. “What class do you have a C in?”

  “Choir. It’s not because I’m bad at it or anything, I just… The teacher asked me to sing a soprano part, and I’m an alto. Then she started arguing with me, and getting mad because I told her I couldn’t sing it. I don’t know, I don’t think I’m going to take it next year.” In front of me, I could see Mom relax. Apparently choir wasn’t a class I had to do well in.

  We pulled int
o the bowling alley’s lot. There was almost no one there, since it was only three in the afternoon. Kent parked near the doors, one space over from the last handicapped spot, and the three of us got out of his SUV and made our way inside.

  It was about as dingy as most bowling alleys, with the lights turned low and the doors shaded so that it felt as if we’d left the sun outside. Along the far wall there was a neon sign of a bowling ball hitting some pins, perhaps to remind us why we were there.

  “Don’t worry Kent, I’m paying,” Mom said, stepping forward. She reached into her beige leather purse and pulled out several twenty dollar bills, even though the boy behind the register told her it would only be thirty dollars for a game.