by S M Olivier
I ducked my head in embarrassment as the band kids started clapping, followed by most of the class. I didn’t need a mirror to know that my face was a disconcerting shade of red.
“Well done, Blake,” Mr. Jace said after the applause. “Everyone carry on.” He dismissed the rest of the class as he made his way over to me.
It seemed like I was screwing up left and right lately. Can’t a girl catch a break?
I could hear the Bubble Gum Squad clearly as Bridgette hissed at one of her cronies. “She’s not good. The only thing I heard that she’s good at is being a doorknob. Everyone gets a turn.”
Her friend in question looked thoroughly chastised, not wanting to be outcasted from the squad. The others looked sympathetically at the poor girl but still laughed as if Bridgette said the funniest thing in the world. They knew anyone that fell from Bridgette’s good graces was bullied from there on out. Bridgette immediately preened, happy to be the center of attention once more.
“‘Great minds discuss ideas; average minds discuss events; small minds discuss people.’” Mr. Jace turned towards Bridgette and her group. “Ms. Mason, I want you to tell me who said that and write an additional two-page report on spreading hate. I expect it to be turned in by tomorrow or you will immediately lose a full letter grade on your next quiz.”
Bridgette turned red, embarrassed, but still haughty as she crossed her arms and looked at him defiantly. “You can’t do that. My daddy will be here within moments.” She pulled out her phone as if threatening him.
Mr. Jace looked at her coldly, but said in a gentle tone, “Bridgette, I know your dad very well, as you know. If I were to inform Theodore on the whole situation I am sure he will agree with my decision.”
Several people laughed around the room, happy she was getting her comeuppance. She just glared at me, as if I was to blame, and stormed to the bleachers.
Mr. Jace made his way over to the piano as I turned on the bench and straddled it; absently tracing the wood grain with my fingertips. I noticed he was clean shaven, and well put together as always in his designer clothing and shoes.
“How’s everything going today?” he asked as he took a seat on the bench next to me with his back to the piano. I tried not to inhale too deeply. He always smelled pleasantly of leather and had a faint citrus smell.
I tried to shake these new feelings I was experiencing. They were disturbing and unwelcome. My life was complicated enough without a new-found crush on my music teacher. No matter how good he smelled or how attractive he was.
I cleared my throat. “Fine,” I muttered. Still not willing to talk.
He nodded but sighed. “Okay.” He turned around. “Do you mind if I join you on that piece you were working on? An original?” he asked me with a raised eyebrow.
Reluctantly, I nodded. I hadn’t played with anyone else in over seven years. Not since my dad passed. He hesitated but went to his desk, pulling out his violin from its case. I rarely heard him play, but I knew he was talented. The few times I heard him play I heard the complexity of his soul. He was an easy-going, laid-back, and kind teacher, but after hearing him play one afternoon when I came to class early, I knew he was so much deeper than his appearance.
I took the time to write more notes on the music sheet in front of me that I had added today as he tuned his instrument. I tried to ignore my sudden nervousness and shaking of my hands.
I found a box of empty sheet music years ago for a steal and used them sparingly. I preferred to memorize most of my music. Only the songs that truly spoke to me ended up in black and white.
He stood behind me as he waited for me to finish. I looked up at him when I was done and nodded, indicating that I was ready.
I took another deep breath and focused on the sheet in front of me as I began playing. No less passionate than I was earlier, my nervousness and annoyance fading as I immersed myself once more. This time I heard the mournful notes of the violin, and I was mesmerized and awestruck at how well the instruments compliment each other. Goosebumps rose on my skin as I poured myself into the music.
When we were finished, I sat back suddenly flustered. It felt oddly intimate playing with him. I felt naked. My soul exposed. It took me a moment to notice that the room was completely still.
I looked up at Mr. Jace and saw the intense look in his eyes. I knew he felt the same way I did. I knew he felt exposed as well. I knew he was impressed and awestruck just as much as I was. Many emotions danced in his eyes; it was hard to decipher how he was feeling.
I finally broke our gaze and noticed I still had an audience. I ducked my head in embarrassment once again.
I spent the rest of the class trying to finish my piece, and Mr. Jace went back to the rest of the class to mentor them. I was oddly relieved and bereft at the same time, which only angered me further. My frustrations were mounting, and I was getting angry as I continued to make mistakes on my sheet music.
I was relieved and upset when the bell rang. I was hoping to have my music complete today, but I knew I needed to step away from it so I’d stop making careless mistakes.
I packed up my messenger bag and threw my hoodie back on. I wanted to slip out before I was stopped by Mr. Jace, just in case he tried to press me further.
I stopped short and looked in horror as I noticed Mr. Diesel and Tom standing in the hallway. A feeling of dread engulfed me as Tom gave me one of his smarmy smiles. My skin instantly crawled in revulsion.
What the heck was he doing here?!
“Hey Blake, sweetie, how was school today?” He feigned concern and interest. He was such a master manipulator. From a clinical point of view, I could objectively look at him by appearances only. He wasn’t classically good looking, but he wasn’t ugly either. His suit was Armani and his shoes came from Brooks Brothers. Looking at him you would never know he had a coke addiction or that he preyed on teenage girls.
I glared at him and then looked at Mr. Diesel. “What’s going on?”
Students skirted around us. Eager to leave school, now that the day was over.
“After our discussion earlier,” Mr. Diesel said, clearly confused at my sudden hostility, “I felt the need to have a meeting with your parents. I think you have potential and I would hate to see you work so hard for nothing. I thought if we could come up with some goals we can help you reach them.”
I felt a presence behind me, and I didn’t need to turn around to know it was Mr. Jace. I could smell him. Great! It was hard enough ignoring the curious gazes from passing students, now Mr. Jase was going to be privy to more of my family drama; ensuring that he would continue to give his misplaced concern for me.
“My parents are dead, and he’s my stepmom’s…boyfriend. What can he possibly do to help me?” I was trying to assert my displeasure without revealing too much.
Mr. Diesel looked uncomfortable but determined. “Nevertheless your stepmom is your guardian, and she is currently indisposed. She assured me that Mr. Rhoades could speak on her behalf and assist you in any way possible. Can we continue this discussion in my office?”
I snorted. I could blow this all up right now. Indisposed?! It was laughable. She was probably already drunk and high. There was no way Tom could assist me. Nine hours ago he was trying to strip me of my towel and goodness knows what else.
Mr. Jace cleared his throat. “Hey Donny, you can use my room. Blake and I were just discussing her future earlier.” He blatantly lied as he leaned against the door jamb.
“Um, okay,” Mr. Diesel said, and we all filed into Mr. Jace’s class. “If that’s okay with you, Blake?”
I reluctantly nodded. Better the devil I knew, than the one I didn’t.
We went over to a grouping of chairs and all took a seat.
“Well,” Mr. Diesel started. “As I was saying earlier, Blake is one of the top contenders for receiving the honor of being the valedictorian or salutatorian. However, it has been brought to my attention that she hasn’t applied for any colleges or scholarships. I
am concerned that she may need some help to reach her next possible goals. I would hate for her to waste any opportunity that she may have.”
“I always knew you were bright,” Tom leered at me. “How can her mother and I help her at home so she can reach her full potential?”
I was barely able to quell the shudder that his look made me feel. In my head, I was thinking: Nothing. Absolutely, positively nothing from you. However, I suggest you stop getting high and drinking it up with Heidi. How about convincing Heidi to start using my father’s inheritance and her welfare checks to support us instead of spending it on drugs? I shouldn’t be the one concerned about having a roof over our head and food in our bellies. Then when you get done convincing her to do that you should pack your slimy ass up and leave us alone.
“I thought it would be beneficial for her to have more community involvement, and possibly explore areas of interest for her future.” Mr. Diesel was clearly pleased to see how seemingly receptive Tom was of helping me with my future endeavors. “She expressed that she has no time to pursue such activities due to her assisting with her sister at home and her job.”
“Well, my law office is always willing to help bright students achieve their goals. We even give out full scholarships to those promising enough, and all they have to do is intern with us for twenty hours a week while they attend school.” Tom reached over and placed an arm around my shoulders.
From the outside looking in you may assume he was being helpful and supportive of me. However, I knew it was just his unassuming way of touching me. I stiffened as I felt his hand caress me suggestively.
“What a great opportunity!” Mr. Diesel seemed beside himself with excitement.
I knew he meant well, and I truly appreciated it, but if he knew how my home life truly was, he would realize the hopelessness of it all. He would know Tom was a habitual liar and exploiter. He would probably call CPS and have Ella and me taken away due to our environment.
I had to keep my mouth shut. I had already been through the system. I knew they wanted to give the parents the benefit of the doubt. I knew they would send Heidi to mandatory rehab while Ella and I would more than likely be separated. Then Heidi would go through her transformation and Ella would be placed back in her care. I would have aged out by then. I would have no legal rights to get my sister or be privy to her whereabouts if she wasn’t returned by then. The system was broken.
I was so lost in my bleak thoughts that I hadn’t realized Mr. Jace had stood up and gently extracted me from Tom’s embrace. I was known to have a great poker face, but he must have glimpsed my distress. Seamlessly he had put his tall, lean, muscular frame between Tom and me.
He looked at me pointedly as he said, “Well, that could be one option, but I just presented her with the option of attending Knightstown School of Performing Arts.” I barely concealed my audible gasp. I had heard of the school, but I knew it was extremely hard to get into and extremely expensive. Getting a scholarship there was nearly impossible. I had dreamed once; then reality came knocking. It wasn’t something I could ever pursue.
Mr. Jace continued as if he read my thoughts. “My father and I are on the board of directors there, and with her talent, she could easily receive a full scholarship.”
Tom scoffed at him. “How is playing the…flute,” he said disparagingly, “ever going to help her in life. How is it going to pay the bills? Maybe she could work at a school like you because we know teachers make so much money. Why would you try to fill her head with such nonsense?”
I knew his anger stemmed from being thwarted. He hoped to get closer to me so I was easier to access for his nefarious plans. He saw it as a perfect opportunity to groom me.
“Piano,” I muttered. He was so oblivious!
At this point, I was incensed. I was furious at Tom for assuming I was naïve enough to believe he would do anything to help me out of the goodness of his heart. I was consumed with a sense of loss at Mr. Jace’s suggestion. As much as I liked the idea of a full scholarship to one of the most prestigious schools in America, if it was true, it wasn’t an option for me. It would never work. I had a sister to take care of. To protect. I couldn’t go gallivanting to Upstate New York and leave her behind. I was pissed at Mr. Jace that he would even suggest it. I know I was being ridiculous. He may assume what my life was like, but he didn’t know for certain. He probably saw this opportunity as a way to help me out, but it was an opportunity I couldn’t entertain the thought of.
“The music isn’t the primary focus of the school,” Mr. Jace said coolly. “They offer many different programs.”
I snatched up my messenger bag. “As delightful as this sounds, I promised my sister I would pick her up from school, and I’m going to be late.” At Mr. Diesel’s look of concern, I feigned a smile trying to pacify him. “It appears to me that I now have two viable options, but it’s a lot to take in right now. I don’t want to rush into anything, but it’s definitely something to consider.”
He nodded, seemingly pacified. I refused to look in Mr. Jace’s direction.
I started to storm out of the room as Tom grabbed my arm. “What’s the rush? We can go get her together.”
I froze once more due to his touch. “No thank you,” I said coldly.
No one else tried to stop me.
Ella was in high spirits when I picked her up. She was excited at the invite to a slumber party on Friday. I couldn’t deny her the opportunity, although I would have liked to meet the girl’s parents first. It would be highly suspicious if I were to request it. After all, I was just her sister and not her mother.
She wanted new pajamas and a sleeping bag, which I would have to add to our shopping list. I had to dip into the money I planned to save up for our future, but I couldn’t deny her a simple request. She really didn’t ask for much. She was mature for her age and understood our situation.
We walked to the bus stop to catch the bus into town. I was glad the thrift shop and Super Mart was within walking distance. The bus was packed with people, so we had to take several stops before we reached our own. Ella hopped off the bus in front of me still talking.
I gave her a small smile. I was so happy she was in my life, but I couldn’t help but wonder if my father was still alive would my life be different? Would I have applied myself as hard to classes? Would I have had the same opportunity to go to one of the greatest schools in America? Would my music be different? After all, most of my music came from that dark place left by the loss of my father.
My mind wandered back to that fateful day, the day I lost my father. I remember him being oddly agitated that week. He seemed to be constantly pacing, looking out the windows, and talking quietly on a cell phone I had never seen before. I had been an observant child even then. I was always surrounded by adults, so I liked watching them. I remember late at night, when they thought I was sleeping, Heidi and Dad having arguments. Dad wanted to move…again.
I don’t have many memories before I was five, but I remember moving a lot. My dad always told me it was because he had a gypsy soul, but I knew he had been lying. He never could lie to me.
For once I was on Heidi’s side. Dad had only been married for about three months (after dating her for a short four months). I didn’t like her much, even back then, but that was only because she treated me like a nuisance. I didn’t know why Dad married her. They didn’t seem like they got along all that well, and they didn’t really have too much in common.
I remember sitting on the top of the stairs and silently wishing he would listen to her. I had just gotten on an elite dance squad, and my best friends were here. My dad’s tone seemed final. I knew we were leaving again.
I went to bed feeling sad and defeated. The packing had started that night. By the end of the week, we would move once more. The only thing is that Dad never came home the following day. It took a week for them to find his car in a ravine. The police thought foul play was involved, but the leads had dried up long ago. My father’s murder w
as a mystery. A cold case.
“Blake! Blake!” Ella said insistently tugging on my hand. I realized she was probably trying to get my attention for some time now.
“Yes, dear,” I said attentively.
She sighed. “I asked if we can get big girl pajamas. I don’t want baby pajamas anymore.”
I laughed, trying to drag away my somber mood; I was spending too much time in the past. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Okay,” she replied happily. She was content with that answer, knowing if I could, I would.
We entered the thrift store and I was happy to find us a couple winter coats. I also found: four new pairs of jeans (two still had their original tags from Justice on them), six tops (four with original tags), two sets of “big girl” pajamas, a pair of winter boots, and a brand-new pair of sneakers for Ella. I looked longingly at the bikes for her, but I wanted to wait. Maybe next time.
When we cashed out I was pleased to be under the budget I had planned for our shopping trip. I could afford the bike, but we still had to go grocery shopping.
“On Friday, we are having a half off sale,” the friendly clerk informed me. “We have too much inventory and a lot more in the back.”
I smiled brightly at her. “Thank you. I will be back on Friday.”
I had work, but I could always swing by here first before going in. I was excited to surprise Ella with a bike. I would have to teach her how to ride it, but I didn’t mind.
We headed over to the grocery store and I pulled out my list. I tried to keep to it. Sometimes I found exceptional deals on the items I like to stash in our room. I started down the aisle separating the items by what I would put in the kitchen and what I put in our room. Heidi would get suspicious if I didn’t put some things in the kitchen.
I wandered over to the reduced-price meat. They always had meat on a manager special. Most of the time the meat would go bad unless put in the freezer or cooked immediately. I didn’t mind. It meant I had more money to spend on other things.