We are currently putting together a new program, "Students For Students." Teens will guide and mentor their fellow high schoolers. Those selected will assist in a particular subject; each mentor will receive the opportunity to conduct a class in a professional environment.
Ms. Meadows, you have been selected to teach your wind ensemble class on October 3. If you wish to participate, please return this form to Mrs. Sanders' mailbox at least two days before your scheduled date. All student teachers must come to class that day with a lesson plan and must begin class promptly.
We look forward to working with you.
Sequoia High School Administrative Department
Once we finished, Josh designed the page so it looked exactly like something that would be sent from the school. Thanks to the pile of letters he'd been given over the years, he had plenty of things to model it after. "It looks awesome," Josh crowed as he put the final touches on it. "Now I just need to find a way to send it from the school and we're all set."
I sighed. "I'm still worried about this. The school is going to go into lockdown until they find out who did it."
"So let them," Josh said as he printed out the letter. He kept gloves on the entire time, "so my DNA won't be on it," he explained, and then promptly erased the original. "Yeah, chances are they probably will try to find out who it was, but the trick is to make sure it's not traceable. Besides," he laughed, "do you really think they're going to get their panties in a bunch over a letter that's basically complimentary? It's not a bomb threat or anything ... we're saying that Kathy's so talented, she should teach a class! The school needs more students to encourage each other, right?"
"Um, right," I answered. Because what could be more encouraging than inevitably having a baton broken over your head?
###
For the rest of the afternoon, we continued to hang out and talk. Lily invited me to stay for dinner (homemade lasagna sounded way better than the health food my mom makes me eat, so how could I refuse?) so we waited for the food to be ready.
"Can I ask you something?" Josh said. "Why are you always so quiet in school, Mel? You're obviously very interesting and have a lot to say, but you say almost nothing at school unless you're spoken to."
"Oh, I..." I felt myself blush. On the one hand, it was nice that he called me "interesting," but he also seemed to think that I was socially warped. "I guess it's because not too many people care about what I have to say," I explained. "They think I'm weird. And a lot of people make fun of me so it's just easier to keep quiet and stay out of their way."
"So tell them to fuck off," he replied. "Don't let them walk all over you."
"You don't understand," I said. "You're popular. You can say anything and people will think it's cool just because you're you."
He blinked. "That's such bullshit, Mel."
I stared back. "Is it?"
"Yeah. For one thing, I'm really not popular."
"Let's see —- you have a million friends, you always get invited to parties..."
Josh put up his hand to stop me. "I actually don't have that many friends," he admitted. "In fact, you're one of the few people I can have a normal conversation with. And the one reason I get invited to parties is because people hope I'll do something interesting, like pull a prank. I'm kind of like their ... their mascot or something."
I nodded. Josh was turning out to be a very different person than I'd thought.
Lily called us for dinner. We stood up so we could go eat, but before we left I turned to face Josh. "I'm just wondering about something, too," I said. "Your mom said you told her all about me. What exactly did you say?"
He looked me in the eyes. "I told her that you're a great musician, but don't give yourself enough credit, that I was helping you with a music-related problem. And," he finished, "that you're the only person I know who can keep up with me." "Oh," was all I could think of to say.
CHAPTER 7
On Monday morning, I found Josh waiting for me by my locker. He was wearing a leather jacket and gloves and looked like a biker; definitely hot. My knees became all wobbly when he nodded hello and I had to grip my locker to keep myself from toppling over. I wondered if he'd had as good a time when we were hanging out at his place as I had, but he had other things on his mind.
"I have it right here in my bag," he whispered. "So we're good. I just have to find a way into the administrative office so I can mail it from there. But don't worry, I'm prepared," he said, wiggling his gloved hands. "I'm doing everything I can to make sure we're not caught."
I laughed, though I was a little let down that he hadn't mentioned our weekend. "How are you planning to get into the office in the first place?" I asked. "I don't think they'll just let you waltz in and send a letter."
"I know. That's why I'll have to be creative." Just then Principal Muller strove past us. "Okay, watch this," Josh said. He suddenly whirled around. "Hey, Muller!" He called out loudly enough so that the people on the other side of the school could probably hear him. "Mullerfucker."
The principal immediately stopped walking and stood opposite Josh. My mouth fell open and I could hear a few other kids gasp. Surely he was about to get his ass kicked, especially by Principal Muller, who's this no-nonsense guy. He rarely yells like Mr. Francis does, but has this subtle-but-firm way of burning right into your soul with his dark eyes. Not that I've ever been called to the principal's office, but I've been there when he's lectured other people. Even then, I was intimidated.
Principal Muller stopped dead in his tracks and cleared his throat. Josh braced, ready to get what was coming to him. To everyone’s surprise, the principal’s lips curled into a grin and he shook his head. "Very clever, Mr. Kowalski,” he said, rolling his eyes. “That’s definitely a new one and I’m in a good mood today so I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear that. But you say it again and you're going straight to detention."
I thought it was cool that Muller had such a great sense of humor. How many principals would let someone get away with a remark like that? But Josh apparently wasn't satisfied to escape by the skin of his teeth. Oh, no.
He got got a gleam in his eyes and grinned back at our principal. "Yeah, like I’m scared of detention, Scotty," he sneered. “I can say whatever I want. Free country.”
That did it. Principal Muller's face clouded over and his soul-sucking eyes emerged. Guess he could take some cursing, but wasn't thrilled about Josh taunting his authority. "You know, I try to be very fair, especially when it comes to you Kowalski, but you need to show me respect," he said in his low voice. "And that's not the way to do it." He sighed and beckoned to Josh. "I gave you one chance. Now come with me."
Josh didn't argue, but turned and winked at me as he followed Muller. "That was way too easy," he mouthed.
###
Later on in band, Josh stopped by my chair. "Okay, it's done," he said excitedly. "I had to listen to a boring-lecture from Muller and got a week's worth of before-school detention, but it was worth it."
"That's great," I told him, but secretly hoped that it wouldn't work. It still seemed too risky a plan, especially since he'd already gotten on Muller's bad side.
Once Josh stepped away, Kathy turned to me. She wore a sour expression as if she'd just taken a whiff of poo, but even so, her hair still looked perfect. "What's with you and Josh?" she asked. "I see him driving you sometimes and at your locker. When did you guys get all buddy-buddy?"
I shrugged. "We just know each other from band." I could tell she was dying to know just how "buddy-buddy" he and I were, but I wasn't about to open up to Kathy.
Kathy raised a neatly-trimmed eyebrow. "You know, I hope you don't like him because you're just setting yourself up to get hurt," she warned. She twirled a red curl around her finger. "I've seen him do this with like, a million girls. He'll flirt with them just to get attention and then move on when he gets what he wants. Hell, he tried to do that with me," she laughed, almost to herself. She then turned her attention back to me. "B
ut let's face it, there's no way he'd ever go out with you. He's probably just using you for something, you know."
I turned away from her to show I wasn't listening, but I worried that she could be right. Why else would someone like Josh, who always had a date, invite someone like me to his house? Then again, he'd told his mom about me. Even I know that guys don't talk about you to their mothers unless they at least consider you to be a friend. "Oh come on, you didn't really think he likes you or anything, do you?" Kathy was saying. "Get real." She clucked her tongue. "God, you're so sad sometimes, Smellinda."
I whipped around, the anger rising in my throat. "Would you just mind your own business?” I hissed.
"Ooh, someone's touchy today," she said.
I picked up my flute and got going on my warm-ups. Suddenly Josh's letter idea was a lot more appealing.
###
But as the week wore on, that uneasiness kept churning inside of me. Most of it was because I was worried about our plan, but part of it had to do with that tingly-nauseated feeling I'd get whenever I'd think about Josh. Turns out it was great for my diet; I could barely eat! I had to admit, I liked having something to look forward to, even if I did involve doing something that was possibly illegal. Having a secret was exciting and after having spent my entire life trying to follow the rules, it was kind of fun to break them.
###
Josh took me to school on the day of the event. I hadn't slept at all the night before, and as I downed my fourth cup of black coffee (which was so gross, even with sugar, but I seriously needed it), I could barely keep my thoughts straight.
"How will we even know if she got the letter?" I said. "What if she didn't and we've been worrying for nothing?"
"Believe me, we'll know," Josh said. He lowered the volume on his favorite radio station. "We'll know when she gets up and starts teaching a class." He cracked up.
"What if she knows it's a joke? She might just see the letter, think it's ridiculous and toss it."
Josh raised an eyebrow. "But it was sent from the school. It has the Sequoia High seal on it. Besides," he said, "I'm pretty certain she'll totally buy it."
"She may be mean, but she's not stupid."
"No, she's not stupid," Josh agreed. "But she loves to have her ego stroked. When you've spent your whole life being a princess and having everyone tell you how beautiful and fantabulously wonderful you are, you get used to it. So her getting this honor is probably just to be expected in her mind."
"I don't know..." I told him. I'd known Kathy for a while and it didn't seem like you could pull a lot over her. She was always getting perfect grades in classes and I often saw her friends asking her for help with their homework. Look at the way she'd figured out how I liked Josh. It certainly wasn't like I'd told her anything.
"Trust me, I know a lot of girls and I've known ones like Kathy," Josh said. I didn't really want to hear about all of these girls, but I let him continue. "So I have a pretty good idea about what makes people tick."
I laughed. "Your mom said something similar to me; she said she 'knows' people and that she could read my aura."
He shrugged. "I guess I get it from her."
"What if she told her friends about it? What if she showed it to them and they said, 'Kathy, that letter's a fake,' and she was like, 'Yeah, you're so right,' and then they vow to find out who sent it?" I babbled. Man, my head was swimming to the point where I didn't even know what I was saying. It felt as if it had been stuffed with cotton and then ripped back open. "What if she told everyone and now all these other people know?"
"Good. Let her," Josh said. "It's a great achievement. She should be very proud."
"But she didn't really do anything," I yelled. This just made Josh laugh for some reason, but it gave me a headache. I slumped down in my seat. "Okay," I went on, "what if she made copies of the note, you know, for her resume?"
He shrugged. "Not like our fingerprints are on it. I trashed the original and erased it from my drive."
"Well, what if she told her parents and they come to the school and complain and then we get expelled and I can't get into college and oh my God, my parents would kill me....!" Yeah, I was still rambling, but the coffee had apparently short-circuited my brain. I made a mental note to stay away from that stuff.
"Look, Mel, nothing's gonna happen to us, okay?" Josh interrupted. "I have it all under control." He smiled at me. "Don't you trust me?"
"We're so dead," I moaned.
"Hey," he said, squeezing my shoulder. Despite myself, I relished the touch —- his hand felt so warm! "Everything will be fine. They'll never suspect you. And if by some million-in-one chance we are caught," he said. "I'll take all the blame. I promise. I won't let anything bad happen to you."
I wanted to believe him. I wanted to be sure that this would work out. But then a more urgent matter came up, one which at that moment took precedence over our project.
"Oh my God, Josh, can you pull over someplace quickly?" I asked, wriggling around in my seat. "After all that coffee, I really have to pee!'
###
Josh and I arrived early for band that day. We eagerly waited for Kathy and Mr. Francis to show up.
"You just lay low, do your usual warm-up thing," he instructed. "Meanwhile, I'll create a diversion and hold off Francis. We only need to give her a few minutes, anyway."
Soon Mr. Francis strolled down the hall standing out amidst the crowd in a red velvet blazer and green pants. From a distance, he looked like a very fat, disgruntled Christmas elf. "Hey, Mr. Francis, Mr. Francis!" Josh called out. "I need to talk to you."
Our conductor's lips curved into a frown, a.k.a. the standard expression he wore whenever he had to deal with Josh. "This better be good, Kowalski," he growled. "You already waste enough of my time as it is."
I expected to see Josh curse out Mr. Francis ... or launch into a tap-dance, but he simply told our conductor,
"Oh, I was thinking of getting a new trumpet because this one's getting all beat up. Can you recommend one?"
At the mention of something music-related, Mr. Francis's unhappy expression disappeared and he actually seemed to be well, pleased, that Josh had asked for his advice. "Well, there are many good brands," he began, his voice booming in the hallway. "I'll tell you which ones I prefer..."
Their voices trailed off as I went back into the band room and took my seat next to Maya. So far, everything seemed the same as always. As everyone warmed up their instruments, there was that familiar roar of notes and murmuring.
And then Kathy arrived. She always wears the latest fashions and is put-together, but this outfit was positively traffic stopping. She wore a tight-fitting, but not too revealing, copper suit that went well with her red hair, and her long locks were tied back in a loose, low bun. She finished off the look with a pair of matching gold sandals and a bunch of long necklaces. She was just like one of those teachers who young boys dream about, the ones who look like they're all business, but then let down their hair and are stunning.
Of course when she entered, everyone stopped what they were doing and stared. The room was dead silent, which if you think about it, is pretty freaky for a band room. Kathy didn't care that she was being gawked at; she smiled broadly, obviously loving the attention.
"Hi, guys!" she called out, giving a little wave as if she were Miss America. A couple of the guys in the sax section whistled. She looked around for a moment, possibly for Mr. Francis, then shrugged and stood up on his podium. "Um, guys?" she called out. She took a pencil out of her bag and rapped on his podium the way he always does with his baton. "Um, can I have everyone's attention, please?"
Given that she already had the band's attention, this was a pretty silly question, but she pressed on. I couldn't quite comprehend that she seemed to be buying that ridiculous letter we'd sent, but she was all set to teach us. "Um, today's my day to do some work for the 'Students For Students' program," she explained. "I was assigned to teach the band. In all honesty, I don't know m
uch about conducting, but I do know about music, so please bear with me. I hope my expertise in other areas will compensate."
I hated to admit it, but I was impressed. She was obviously nervous, but kept it together and showed great poise under stress. She also wasn't pretending to know everything like some teachers do and was —- dare I say? —- showing some humility. That was certainly a first for her.
"Now, we usually start up with some kind of warm-up, but I want to try something different today," she said. "I know for some people, like me for instance, it's hard to jump right into playing an instrument. Especially since this is the last period. We all need to relax first."
She motioned for everyone to stand. Maya gave me a funny look, but I shrugged and got out of my chair. The other band members also seemed confused, but followed her instructions. I guess they assumed that Mr. Francis had put her up to this.
Kathy closed her eyes and raised her arms above her head as if she were reaching for the heavens. "Keep your shoulders back and your head held high," she instructed in a soft, whispery voice. "Now take a deep breath. Feel your chakras and auras flowing. Let your thoughts be free. Breathing is essential to music and we want to be able to breathe without any obstacles stopping us up." As she said this, she wiggled around, waving her hands in the air, I guess so she could shake up those chakras. Instead of coming off like the yoga instructor she seemed to think she was, she looked as if she were getting electrocuted. I closed my eyes so I wouldn't be able to see her and willed myself not to lose it. "I won't crack up," I kept thinking. "I won't crack up, Iwontcrackup!"
I wasn't the only one having a hard time keeping it together, because I could hear people quietly chuckling all around me. Maya had her hand over her mouth and was choking back giggles through her palm; in the back, Ken and the other trumpets stuck out their tongues and made faces. One of the drummers held up his phone, no doubt filming the spectacle. But Kathy, who had to be deaf and blind if she didn't notice the commotion, ignored us and continued. "Stretch your arms up way over your head," she called out. "Reach for the sun. Stretch everything out, including your fingertips. Feel those muscles contract and relax. The last thing a musician needs is strained muscles or cramped fingers."
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