When the Music Ends (The Winter Rose Chronicles)

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When the Music Ends (The Winter Rose Chronicles) Page 4

by Simone Beaudelaire


  He watched her while she worked. Sean was pleasantly surprised at how well this relationship was working out. Erin took their love affair seriously without the cloying clinginess younger girls sometimes foisted on their boyfriends. For his part, he was hoping as time passed to find a balance between sex and conversation so that she would know she was desired both for her beauty and her soul. That was the truth. The more time he spent with Erin, the more drawn he was to her. He couldn’t imagine ever wanting it to end. He hoped they could find a way to maintain their relationship while she pursued her dreams, after graduation.

  For now, however, they would simply enjoy each moment together, starting with this simple meal.

  ***Chapter 5***

  On Monday, Sheridan returned to school. This was going to be hard. Erin was terribly concerned about her friend, because gossip of the ugliest kind was swirling around her situation. To help her friend, she had rearranged her schedule, dropping advanced placement chemistry in favor of regular so that she and Sheridan could have the same lunch period. It wasn’t a big deal. She hated chemistry anyway, and had plenty of A.P. credits. Now the girls had several classes together, which Erin hoped would help.

  Erin was glad to have spent a lovely weekend with her boyfriend, as that helped balance what was sure to be a terrible week. Sean had been so wonderful, and she was no longer sore, so their lovemaking had been even better. Oh, but they didn’t just spend the whole time in bed. He had talked to her and really listened. She had poured out her worries about the future: her auditions and college choices, and what she wanted to do with the future. It was the first time that she had felt comfortable to talk about this with anyone other than her best friend.

  For his part, Sean was learning to run a construction business and told her about the problems he was having. She was glad to listen, even though she had very little advice to give. Being in love felt absolutely amazing, although the word had not been mentioned between them, yet. She wasn’t quite sure when her crush had ripened into something so meaningful, but it had, and very quickly too. Not to mention that Sean was her anchor, and with him to steady her life, both her studies and her practice had been more productive than ever before.

  Now it was time for English class. Erin firmly put thoughts of Sean out of her mind until later and concentrated on taking notes over Macbeth. Since it was an A.P. class, the teacher didn’t care where they sat, so she and Sheridan had chosen seats next to each other at the beginning of the year and never moved. She glanced at her friend. Sheridan looked pale and strained, but was trying hard to pay attention. The horrible bruise on her face was fading to a sickening yellow, although the cut was still livid. Sheridan had told her, finally, that Jake had punched her, and the cut was from his class ring. It was horrendous.

  The bell rang, and the girls headed down the hall to government. This was one of Erin’s least favorite classes. The teacher was deeply boring, and so was the content, at least to a young musician. She knew it would be futile to attempt the exam in this subject.

  "Bitch," a feminine voice hissed at them.

  Erin turned and glared at Lindsey Jones. "Shut up."

  Sheridan looked from Erin to Lindsey, puzzled.

  "What?"

  "It’s nothing, Danny. Ignore her."

  Sheridan addressed Lindsey directly. "What did I do?"

  "You put Jake in jail. Now there’s no way our football team can make the playoffs. He’s going to miss his senior year because of you."

  Sheridan didn’t say anything. She just looked confused, so Lindsey continued.

  "It’s your fault, you know. If you weren’t such a prude, this wouldn’t have happened."

  Erin interjected. "Shut up! It’s her choice, stupid. If she didn’t want to, it’s over. Plus it’s none of your business. Come on, Danny. Lindsey’s just a slut."

  She took her friend’s arm and led her away towards the government classroom.

  "Does everyone know?" Sheridan asked in a tiny, wavering voice.

  "Pretty much. I’m sorry."

  "How many are against me?"

  "Hard to say. Jake’s really popular, you know? But I’m here. I’ve got your back sweetie."

  "Thanks." Sheridan looked more shaken than ever. As though everything that had happened weren’t bad enough, for her classmates to turn on her was sort of the final straw. Erin had known it would be.

  It was no surprise that by lunchtime, Sheridan’s fragile composure was destroyed. Erin walked her to the counselor’s office where she spent her free period in tears. She stayed with her, rubbing her back, just trying to be there for her friend.

  After lunch was the hardest part. Erin had symphonic band and Sheridan had an advanced English elective. Separating was terrible, and she gave her an extra tight hug and whispered, "Be strong. I’ll see you in an hour."

  Even spending time on her oboe, her favorite thing to do, didn’t help at all. She played as best she could, but the peace she normally found while doing so evaded her.

  The day was every bit as horrible as Erin had expected. Several people had made ugly comments to Sheridan. Despite her well-earned reputation for shyness, Erin was fierce in defending her friend, but that hardly stopped the flow of abuse. To make matters worse, Erin had rehearsal after school and Sheridan would have to go home alone. Her mother was there, which would help, but there was still the whole unsupervised parking lot to navigate. Erin risked the wrath of the band director to walk her friend to her car, which meant she was a couple of minutes late. Mr. Abrams didn’t say a word. He must have been aware of the situation. Erin was exhausted, but she put the last fragile remnants of her stamina towards her music, and when the rehearsal finally ended, she hurried home to call Sean.

  "You sound terrible, baby," he told her bluntly.

  "I’m not bothering you, am I?"

  "Of course not. How did it go?"

  "It’s worse than I imagined. I don’t know how I’m going to cope, let alone Danny. I HATE being a teenager, Sean."

  "You don’t have the temperament for it. You’ll feel better when you’re done with high school. I think you must have been born an adult."

  "That’s what my mom always said. She said I was older than she was."

  "That could very well be. Is she there now?"

  "Yes. I wish she weren’t. I would love for you to hold me right now." Her voice wavered.

  "I would if I could. Can you practice? Would that help?"

  "I have no emotions left to give, not even to my oboe. I’m all wrung out."

  "Poor Erin. This is too much for you, isn’t it?"

  "I’m not the one going through it. I’m just trying to help. It’s what any friend would do."

  "Not any friend. Only a really special one." Sean’s kind words touched Erin deeply, and her feelings came spilling out of her unbidden.

  "I love you, Sean. You should know that. You don’t have to say anything back, but I do love you."

  "I know you do, Erin," he replied tenderly, "you’re an amazing girl, and that means a lot to me."

  "I think I’m going to try and sleep for a while. Maybe the rest of the night."

  "Dream about me."

  "I always do."

  Erin skipped dinner and just went to bed and cried herself to sleep. Her mother never even noticed that anything was wrong.

  ***Chapter 6***

  The next day at work, Sean decided to ask his dad for advice. He didn’t want to give away too much, but he felt a little out of his depth with this serious, passionate relationship. His feelings for Erin were becoming alarmingly powerful at a speed he had never anticipated. It was nice but a little daunting.

  "Dad, can I ask you something?" he said as the two of them unloaded hardwood flooring from the back of a royal blue Murphy Construction and Renovation pickup, and carried it through the gaping doorway of the 125 year old Victorian they were renovating. It was quite cold, but working so hard, the men more than compensated for it. They handed the wood to the guys i
nside so they could begin repairing the water-damaged floor, and headed back out to the truck.

  "Yes, Sean, what’s on your mind?"

  "Do you think it’s wrong for me to be dating someone…younger?"

  "You’re not very old yourself. How much younger?"

  "Eighteen."

  "Are you sure she’s actually eighteen and not lying to you?"

  "Yes. There’s no question about that."

  "Well then," Roger said in his slow, thoughtful voice, rubbing his hands together to warm them, "it kind of depends on the girl. A lot of eighteen year olds are immature and silly, and don’t really make good girlfriends for someone who is an adult. I think it’s possible there may be exceptions to that."

  "Oh yes, she’s much more mature than her age would suggest."

  "I imagine. Otherwise I doubt you would be interested. Are you already dating?"

  "Yes."

  "Care to elaborate?"

  "Not really."

  Roger gave his son a look, but Sean refused to comment further.

  "Fine. Just be careful with her. Be sure you plan to take your time and let this move slowly. Sometimes these young girls think they’re ready for more than they are. Don’t let her give up her life in favor of a romance."

  "Of course not."

  They gathered up another armful of boards and headed in again.

  ***Chapter 7***

  The next four weeks passed unpleasantly for Sheridan and Erin. School was brutal, what with all the nasty individuals who felt compelled to make Sheridan even more miserable than she already was. Erin staunchly supported her friend, and shielded her as much as she could, which made her a target as well. Actually, if the situation hadn’t been so tragic, it might have been funny. People were teasing Erin for being a prude, not knowing that she had sex more often than any of them, and enjoyed it more. After all, her boyfriend knew what he was doing.

  Finally, the day arrived for her audition for the conservatory. She headed to one of the band hall practice rooms and met with the recruiter, a delicate looking woman whose face had been shaped by years blowing into a double reed. Inside the whitewashed little box of a room, barely large enough to hold two plastic chairs and a music stand, Erin shook the hand of the recruiter and then turned her attention to assembling her oboe, her double reed dangling from the corner of her mouth. When it was appropriately moistened, she fitted it into the instrument. She was surprisingly calm, despite the momentousness of the moment. So much was happening in her life that she literally didn’t have any extra energy to devote to feeling scared, so her hands were steady, her voice cool and confident. It wasn’t ego. She simply didn’t care whether she was accepted to this school or not. Either outcome was an answer. Her only goal was, as always, to play her best. After several minutes talking about Erin’s musical goals and the course of study the school offered, the conversation turned.

  "All right, Erin," Dr. Louise Chen said gently, "do you have a piece prepared?"

  "I do," Erin replied.

  "You may begin when you’re ready."

  Erin wet her reed again. She experienced the faintest flutter as she raised the oboe to her lips, but as the first notes of her piece washed over her, she forgot completely where she was. The music was everything. Erin James ceased to exist and all was notes, tempo crescendo and diminuendo, and emotion, until conscious thought was no longer necessary. Every choice was the only one possible for that moment, done without reflection, based on pure instinct. The terrible grief she felt for her friend’s continuing suffering wound itself into her playing. The oboe raged and wept. It was transcendent.

  As the final notes faded away, Erin returned to consciousness and glanced at the recruiter. The older woman looked absolutely stunned. She sat in silence for a very long time. Erin didn’t mind though. She was trying to reassemble her composure.

  Finally Dr. Chen said, "That was very good." She swallowed hard, drew a deep breath, and continued, "It will take some time for us to process our applications, but we will contact you one way or the other around Christmas. Thank you."

  Erin nodded, shook hands with the woman again, and left the room. She had done her best, and it had been very good. That was all she wanted. The rest was out of her hands.

  During that time Erin also auditioned for, and was accepted into the all-region band. This was hardly novel. She had made region each year of high school, but it was an important first step. The more difficult audition for all-state would not come until later in the year.

  ******

  A couple of weeks later, Erin was sitting, bored senseless, in health class. She had slipped in silently as always, and taken her seat in the corner closest to the teacher’s desk. She preferred to hide because it was embarrassing to be here. She was the only senior amongst these giggling freshmen, but she had forgotten to take it back then, wrapped up as she was in music electives. She listened to the whispers from the back of the room. Two little girls were comparing their Saturday evening at a party, deciding who had been more drunk. Erin rolled her eyes. Had she ever been that young? She supposed she must have been, but even at fifteen, she had been more interested in band than beer.

  "Listen, kids," Mrs. Heath told them earnestly, "it’s really not necessary for you to have sex in high school. I have never heard of anyone who regretted waiting. Your mental and physical health will be much better overall if you wait. Remember, I’m not encouraging any of you to go this route. However, I am aware that some of you will ignore my advice. If you feel you must be intimate with someone, please be monogamous, and please use protection. Condoms are available free in the nurse’s office, and can also be purchased cheaply from any convenience or grocery store. Aside from the risk of getting pregnant, there are several sexually transmitted diseases circulating, yes even in this school. Some are permanent and others are deadly. Protect yourselves with abstinence if you can, but please protect yourselves somehow."

  Erin could have recited this speech by heart. She had heard it at assemblies for years. Her own mother talked to her about caution with distressing frequency. It had become even more pointed of late, and Erin supposed even someone as obtuse as Valerie must have realized it was a boy she was talking to on the phone most evenings. Or maybe it was the late nights. She had never had a curfew, but she had usually brought herself home much earlier on weekends.

  Well, she and Sean were certainly monogamous. However, the couple’s actual condom use had been rather hit or miss. At Sean’s apartment, where the little box lived, they used them, most of the time, but at Erin’s house, often not. While they realized the risk they were taking each time they proceeded unprotected, it didn’t really dissuade them. They didn’t take time to consider the consequences.

  But suddenly, the mention of pregnancy struck Erin. She knew, of course, that such an outcome was possible. But for the fist time she thought about what that might mean for her. They had been quite careless, really, in the… oh Lord, in the five weeks since they had gotten together. Five? Shouldn’t her period have come…three weeks ago? Yes, three weeks. That was not good.

  It was only by concentrating on her breathing, slowing pulling air into her lungs and just as slowly releasing it, that she was able to get through class. The second the bell rang, she was out the door, down the hall, collecting Sheridan and all but running her to the counselor’s office, where she sank into one of the stained and threadbare blue and chrome padded chairs at the huge conference table.

  They were in there so frequently that no one thought twice about it.

  "What’s wrong, Erin?" Sheridan was startled by her friend’s demeanor.

  "Oh God. Danny, are you feeling all right today? I have a problem."

  "Yes, I’m feeling fine. I think I might be a little better, actually. What’s your problem?"

  "Are you sure? I don’t want to add to what you’re dealing with."

  "You know, it’s kind of tiresome how everyone treats me like I’m about to break. Please, Erin. Spill it.
I’m looking forward to thinking about problems other than my own for a change."

  "I think I might be pregnant." Her voice was unsteady, and she forced the words out quickly.

  Sheridan gave her a puzzled look. "Erin, you have to have sex to get pregnant."

  "Yes, I know that."

  Sheridan’s mouth dropped open. "What? When? Who?"

  "I can’t tell you. Oh God, I’m scared."

  "Erin, you have to tell me."

  "You’ll be mad. I can’t. What do I do?"

  "First, you breathe and calm down." She wrapped her arms around Erin, soothing her with a hug. "Panicking won’t help. Okay, do you have rehearsal today?"

  "No."

  "Good. Try to get through the rest of the day. After school we’ll go to the store and get you a test. Then at least you’ll know. You’ve been late before."

  "Yes, but that was before. There was nothing to worry about then. Besides, I’ve never been three weeks late."

  "Okay, hang in there. Try to stay calm. We’ll take care of this today."

  Sheridan hugged her friend tight.

  Erin didn’t take in another piece of information that day. It was all she could do to feign normalcy, and only by very good luck did she have no tests or quizzes, despite all her high level courses.

  After school Sheridan drove them to the grocery store, where by a strange coincidence, two-packs of home pregnancy tests were on clearance, marked cheaper than the singles.

  Erin was shaking with tension by the time they arrived at her house. Thankfully her mother was not home. Sheridan read the directions and, through the bathroom door, told Erin what to do.

  She capped the little plastic stick and set it on the counter on a piece of toilet paper, washed her hands, and opened the door.

  Sheridan stepped in and put her arm around Erin’s shoulders. They watched grimly as the little window slowly developed a dark blue line. Erin closed her eyes as Sheridan hugged her and led her out of the bathroom, wrapping up the test and throwing it in the trash as she passed.

 

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