Travis Starnes
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Playing by Ear (Country Roads #1) - Chapter 22
🕑 Added 2020-11-05 22:50:39 +0000 UTCWhile I knew it would take several days for them to track Mom down and schedule a parent/teacher conference, mostly because she worked so much, I didn’t want to put it off until they got a hold of her. While I was doomed either way, I knew that if she was caught off-guard by a call from the school, things would go from bad to worse.
I was waiting up for her when she got home.
“What did you do now?” she asked as soon as she saw me.
Considering the last time, I was waiting up for her was to tell her I got suspended, that was a fair question.
“You’re going to get a call, and I didn’t want you to get blindsided.”
“You’re not suspended again, are you?”
“No, but it’s connected to that. Because of the suspension and a run-in I had with one of my teachers today, the vice-principle started looking into my classes, grades, and everything. He wants to set up a meeting to talk to you about my progress in school.”
“Okay, one thing at a time. What was the run-in with your teacher?”
“It was in history. I got back my history test, and got a fifty-four…”
“What!?”
“Wait, let me finish. I knew that couldn’t be right, because I’d studied and knew the materials, so I checked with other students. On every problem, someone else had the same answer and got it marked right. I’ve been having some … issues with this teacher, so I took the tests to the vice-principle and asked that it be regraded.”
“What kind of ‘issues?’”
“He’s one of the coaches, and three of his favorite players are the guys I got into a fight with on the first day of school. I’ve tried to keep my head down, but he has it in for me.”
“Charlie, I know a lot of kids think that …”
“No, it’s not just an anti-authority thing. One day I had to go to the counselor's office to do a follow up for new students. It made me late to class and the front office gave me a pass, since it wasn’t my fault. He wouldn’t let me into class, saying I was late. This isn’t his policy or anything, other students come into class and he’s never had a problem. I’m not trying to pick a fight with a teacher, he really hates me.”
“So what did the vice-principle do?”
“He talked to the coach and they’re going to regrade my test. Based on checking it against other students' tests, I only missed one question and got an A on it.”
“Good. It sounds like that was cleared up though, why do they still need a parent/teacher conference.”
I paused, trying to think of a way to say it that wouldn’t make things worse.
“Charlie …” she prompted when I was quiet for too long.
“I’m having trouble in math.”
“Charlie, we talked about this,” she said, exasperated. “I made it very clear that if your job or music got in the way of school, you’d have to quit them.”
“It’s not the job or music …”
“Charlie!”
“No, please listen. It’s not those. I spend a lot of time studying and I’m always trying to get help from other kids at school, I’m just really struggling. The stuff they're teaching assumes I know a lot of stuff I just don’t know. Everyone else is like ‘ohh, we learned that in middle school,’ but I have no idea what they’re talking about half the time. I swear I’m applying myself, reading the textbook over and over, and not letting anything else get in the way. My problem isn’t focusing or being distracted. My problem is I am just missing too much stuff. Even if this was the only thing I had to do all day, I’m not sure my grades would go up.”
“So, it’s my fault you’re doing bad in math?” She said, annoyed.
“I’m not saying that. What I’m saying is, not ever having been to regular school before, there would always be a problem with me not being ready for it. I’m doing great in English and I’d be doing fine in history if it wasn’t for Coach Bryant, but there are some areas where I’m missing the required learning.”
“So what are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know. I thought if I just studied more, I’d pick it up, but it isn’t working. Everything I study just makes me have to go look up something else I don’t understand, which leads me to something else. I have to search through three and four more basic concepts to try and understand one part of the thing we’re learning in class. I’m frustrated and the class isn’t set up so I can get one on one help. Some of the kids I eat lunch with are trying to help me, and I get through my homework okay, but without their help I flop on quizzes and tests, since I don’t really understand why things are the way they are.”
“What about other classes?”
“Science is also a problem, although not as much. Some of the stuff is new to everyone, so I understand it; but some isn't, and it messes me up. I’m doing better in biology, and I don’t think I’m failing, but I’m not doing great.”
“What do you think we should do?”
She loved doing this. When there was an issue, instead of telling me what we were going to do, she always wanted me to tell her what I thought. If she thought I was giving her an answer so I’d get what I want, instead of the best way to handle a situation, she’d make sure whatever we ended on would be the least pleasant option. She said she wanted to teach me to think for myself and not always have someone else give me help, which I guess was a good strategy, but it was frustrating.
“I don’t know. I’ve talked to my teacher, and she suggested I get tutoring, but there’s no way we can afford that. None of my friends are good enough in the subjects or have the patience to teach me. I tried that first, and it didn’t work. I’m honestly out of my depth here. I understand you said that if I started doing bad in school, I wouldn’t be able to go to the Blue Ridge anymore, and I will follow that if you insist. However,” I said, pausing for a moment. “I want you to consider that might not make the situation better, and will only punish me for things outside of my control. I am willing to put in the work and try my hardest to succeed, but sometimes things are just outside of a person's control. I need help, not punishment.”
She looked at me hard for several minutes, thinking. I sat quietly worried, waiting to find out my fate. I hadn’t lied, I really had been trying my best and I really did need help, so this had the benefit of being true, but that didn’t mean she’d listen to me.
“What concerns me is that you haven’t said anything until now. If you were having problems, the smart thing would have been to ask. Hiding it and hoping I wouldn’t notice doesn’t sound like someone trying to fix the issue. It sounds like you were ignoring the issue and hoping wishful thinking was going to get you through this.”
“I’ll admit I was trying to push off this conversation, but it wasn’t relying on wishful thinking. I was trying to figure this out on my own. I kept trying different things. True, none of them have worked yet, but we wouldn’t have known if they would have worked if you had known about it either. I still would have had to try it.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t say anything.”
“You’re right,” I said. “I admit I was stalling to try and figure something out. I was wrong. I should have told you I was having problems, but I was scared I’d have to stop playing or even working at the Blue Ridge, which I really love. I don’t feel like I was hiding it from you, since I was still trying to solve it on my own, but I should have said something.”
I’m not sure Mom was prepared for that response. Whatever she was going to say in retort fell away. Instead, she just stared at me, calculating. I sat still, not interrupting her. I was on edge, and I knew it. This could go either way, and I just hoped I’d made my case enough to not lose any privileges.
“What do you want to see happen?” she finally asked, throwing the problem back into my lap.
This I had thought about.
“I need help. I’m too far behind and no amount of studying on my own or getting a friend to answer questions will get me out of it. I’m already in the easiest math class for tenth grade, and everyone else in the class transferred in from other districts with a different order for taking math, has trouble with math, or is an athlete. My only options are getting held back and taking the class twice, hoping I have enough time to learn everything, ask the school to move me to a freshman-level class, see how that goes, or find some kind of actual tutoring. I’d prefer the tutoring option, since if I take the freshman class, I don’t get credit for it from homeschooling, and I won’t get four math credits, which might require me to be held back a year anyway. The only hard part of tutoring is finding a way to pay for it. I think we go to the parent-teacher conference and ask the vice principal what options there are for me. He might suggest where to find tutoring or another option I haven’t thought of. Once we get his input, we can make a decision on what I need to do. The same is true for science, although I’m not as far behind there, so I think with just a little help I can catch up in that class.”
“You’ve thought this through.”
“I have. I honestly wasn’t slacking or trying to put one over on you. I’ve been stressing over it for a couple of weeks.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay, we’re doing it your way. We’ll talk to the vice-principle and see if there is an option. I’m also going to contact him back and ask that your math teacher participates in the meeting. While I trust you, if I’m going to let you keep working while your grades are down, I want to know that you’ve been trying your hardest. If - and I want to emphasize 'if,' as this isn’t a promise - if we can figure out a way to get you help, I’ll let you keep playing.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I said, picking her up and hugging her tight, swinging her around in a circle.
She laughed. Not her normal reserved laugh, but a full-throated giggly type of laugh. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d heard Mom actually laugh. She’d been so serious since we moved here, always tired and stressed, that it was good to hear.
“Put me down,” she said, calming herself to get serious again. “Now, I want to make it clear this is provisional. If you don’t get your grades up, then I will still shut down anything that’s getting in the way. I want you to take this seriously.”
“I really will. I promise,” I said, hugging her once more and heading towards my room.
Tomorrow was Saturday, which meant that once again Chef would be showing up at an ungodly hour.
“Hey, Mom?” I asked, stopping in my doorway and turning around towards her.
“Yeah?”
“Would you come see me play one Saturday?”
“Charlie, I don’t know.”
“Please. I know you got your fill of the life with Dad, but this is different, I swear. I’m really proud of the progress I’ve made and it would mean a lot to me if you could come see me play.”
“I’ll see. I have to get a Saturday night off from the cleaning company, but … maybe.”
“Thanks. I love you,” I said, knowing that was as good of a commitment as I was going to get.
While I'd managed to make it through the night with a win and another successful weekend, Monday we barely made it into school before the drama ramped up again. Hanna and I had just walked through the doors from the parking lot when Jordan came running up to us.
“We have a problem.”
“What?” Hanna asked.
Jordan looked away, not making eye contact.
“There were more posts, weren’t there?” I asked, knowing what her refusing to look at Hanna meant.
“We’ve been keeping an eye on the account, you know, just in case. So you weren’t surprised again, and Megan saw a post go up a few minutes ago.”
“What does it say?” Hanna asked, her voice a mixture of fear and annoyance.
“It’s not what it says. It’s …”
“Just tell her,” I said, as Jordan trailed off. “She’s going to find out eventually. Now is better than later.”
“It’s pictures of you changing for gym. Nothing nude, I guess to keep the posts from getting pulled down, but … they’re not flattering.”
“Just … shit,” Hanna said.
She had a look of despair on her face, which is what whoever was posting these things goal was, really. They just wanted to hurt her, and they were succeeding.
“It tagged a bunch of other students’ accounts. We reported it, but since it isn’t nude, I’m not sure they’ll take it down.”
“We should go talk to someone in the front office.”
“What can they do?” Hanna asked, her voice wobbly. “They don’t control Twitter.”
“No, but the pictures were taken in the locker room, right? That’s school property. They’ll have to investigate. They probably won’t find the person, but we have to report it. At the very least, the school administration asking questions about it will make people less likely to do something similar again.
“Fine,” Hanna said, not happy.
Vice Principal Keller was busy, so we ended up talking to the counselor. While I hadn’t found him particularly helpful so far, he at least seemed to take this seriously. He made it clear that he agreed it was unlikely they’d find the person who actually took the pictures, which didn’t make Hanna particularly happy. Beyond the promise to investigate the event and talk to the coaches, he made one suggestion, none of us thought of.
He said they would contact Twitter support and report the images and the account that it was associated with. While Hanna was over eighteen, there were a couple of other girls, out of focus and in the background, but still mostly visible, who were minors in various stages of undress. He said that, while he couldn’t promise anything, it should be enough to get the posts and maybe even the account taken down.
While I was sure whoever was posting these would just create a new account and start posting again, it would slow them down a bit. Hanna handled the whole situation better this time. She was pissed, but it didn’t cause her to fall apart this time. Of course, that had been because of Marcus, who wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. Still, since whoever was doing this probably wasn’t going away any time soon, it was good she’d managed to get at least a little inured to it.
The dance wasn’t until eight, since a lot of the school's students were at the football game. This meant that I could go get in our Friday night shifts and only be a little late to the dance. While I was pretty sure Chef would have given me the day off, but I’d already asked off a bunch of days and felt bad, especially considering everything else Chef had been doing for me.
Hanna, however, did ask for the day off, saying she couldn’t just take a shower and get dressed. It was apparently a whole process for girls. Instead of going home, I took a shower at Chef’s apartment and got dressed there. Marcus had to meet Hanna at the school, since the baseball team was required to support the other sports. Instead, Hanna picked me up at the Blue Ridge and then stopped by Rhonda’s to pick her up.
Both girls looked amazing. Hanna was in a dark green dress that worked well on her because of her deep tan. Rhonda was in a light pink dress, which made her pale skin almost seem to glow. The mum was just as ridiculous as I thought it would be when I bought it, but I kept that to myself. Rhonda seemed really happy about it, and kept reaching out to touch the gigantic circle and ribbons that basically covered one whole side of her body. I’d noticed Hanna didn’t wear one, but I didn’t point that out either. I was just happy Rhonda was happy.
On the way to the dance, Rhonda told us about the game. Apparently, half time at the homecoming game was a big thing, with awards handed out and a show put on by both the varsity and junior varsity cheerleaders, in addition to the marching band doing their normal thing. Apparently, they had let all the cheerleaders go after halftime so they could get ready for the dance. She’d only seen half the game but it seemed like we were getting creamed, which from what I’d heard was the standard for our school. No one seemed particularly bothered by the fact that our school was losing its big game, which was probably a side effect of just being used to losing regularly.
The dance itself was held in the cafeteria, which was larger than the gym and had a stage on one side. The stage itself normally had two large curtains drawn across it, so I hadn’t ever actually seen what was up on it before. Standing on either side were sets of double-stacked speakers. I didn’t know if they were normally there or something brought in for the dance, but at the moment music was blaring out of them, making it hard to hear anything if you got up close to the stage.
At the moment, a table had been set up in the center of the stage. Someone - I didn’t know if it was a student, a teacher I hadn’t met, or someone they hired for the dance - stood behind a laptop, which had cables going off towards both sets of speakers.
The dance had already started and the game must have ended, since I recognized some of the football players already out on the dance floor dancing. We split up, Hanna going to find Marcus while Rhonda wanted to go see her friends. We found them all in a clump, talking. A couple of their dates were in some of my classes and I knew some of them were on the JV football team, but that was about it. I stood off from the group, close enough that Rhonda wouldn’t feel like I abandoned her, but far enough away that I didn’t have to actually get involved.
Thankfully, we didn’t stay long. After only a few minutes the girls wanted to go dance. I couldn’t actually do most of the dancing, because of my foot. Rhonda went and danced with the other girls while I found a place away from her friends to sit down. We’d discussed it before the dance because I didn’t want her upset that I wouldn’t dance with her and promised I’d do slow dances.
While I looked forward to any chance I could get to put my arms around her and hold her close, the mum made it difficult. Every time we danced, it smashed into my chest, little bells on it tinkling as we swayed.
I noticed Marcus and Hanna off dancing several times, but didn’t see them in between that. I convinced Rhonda about halfway through the dance to leave her friends and go find Hanna. She hadn’t seemed thrilled with the idea until I reminded her that they would probably be with most of the varsity baseball team. The social climber in Rhonda immediately perked up at the thought of hanging out with juniors and seniors.
Sure enough, we found them all on the other side of the cafeteria. Luckily, Marcus’s group didn’t seem to hang out with people like Aaron. This meant that although there were a few football players in the mix, none of the people I actively had problems with were there.
While Marcus made sure everyone knew we were okay, Rhonda and I kind of hung around the outside of the group, since other than Marcus and Hanna, we didn’t really know any of them.
That was why I was kind of surprised when one of the guys broke off and came over to talk to me.
“Coach said you might come try out for the JV team.”
“Huh?” I said.
“I was talking to Coach Dean, and he said you had a cannon for an arm. He mentioned he’d asked you to try out for junior varsity, and that you’d played some baseball before.”
I wasn’t sure who he was, but I said, “Yeah, he asked me. I haven't decided if I'm going to try out yet. I haven’t played any organized ball or anything, just a bunch of pickup games.”
“Well, if you’re everything he said, we can work around the rest. JV is a good place to learn the ropes. I won’t be here next year, but since so much of our current team are seniors, the coaches have been talking about making sure we leave something in place for next year. I’ve been talking to some of the juniors about keeping an eye out for players who’d be ready to move up. We don’t have as many sophomores on JV as I’d like, so do think about trying out.”
“Sure, I’ll think about it. I do love playing, although I’m not sure if I’m going to have time for it. I’m Charlie, by the way.”
“We all know who you are. Half the guys have gone up and heard you play on weekends. You’re really good. I’m Christian Hume.”
I finally managed to place him. I’d met him for all of ten seconds at the party I’d gone to with Hanna and Marcus, which he’d thrown. If I remembered right, Marcus had said he was the captain of the baseball team.
He shook my hand and said, “Just come try out. I’m sure we can figure out a way for you to make the team and play simultaneously. We need all the new talent we can get, and this is a great point to get some experience under your belt. You’ll have a year to get used to being on the team and hopefully ready to contribute your junior and senior years. I might not be here, but our team is on the verge of being a regular contender for state. I want to leave a legacy behind me of the current team recruiting and prepping the people who will come after us. Plus, Marcus says you’re a good guy and we need those, too.”
“I’ll definitely keep it in mind. I do miss playing, honestly. Some of the best times I’ve had are out on the field.”
“I know, right. It’s the best feeling in the world. I got a scholarship to NC State, and they have a track record of getting guys into the minors. Playing baseball for a living is the dream. Although I guess yours is to be some kind of rock star.”
“I mean, yeah, although I wouldn’t knock playing baseball. I’m pretty sure I don’t have the talent for that, but it would be amazing.”
We chatted for a few more minutes, a couple of the other guys joining us, until Rhonda and I were pulled into the group. Rhonda reached down and held my hand while we all talked. She looked ecstatic to be part of a group of seniors, even if it was talking sports, which I knew didn’t interest her.
Since I still couldn’t dance, Rhonda went out and danced with a couple of the baseball players a few times while I kept talking with some of the guys who didn’t want to dance.
Later in the evening, while she was out on the dance floor, I hobbled off to the bathroom. I regretted that decision seconds later when I turned the corner into the hallway that held the bathrooms closest to the cafeteria and saw Aaron and the tall girl I’d seen him with a few times before. He was leaning over her, his back to the hallway, so he hadn’t seen me yet. He had one hand planted on the wall just above her shoulder, his arm, the wall, and his body making a three-sided cage for her.
“No, Aaron. Not here.”
“Come on, baby. It’ll be hot. The locker room isn’t locked, and no one’s around. You know you want it, you’re such a freaky girl.”
“Aaron,” she said again, sounding more scared than anything else.
I’d stopped walking as soon as I’d seen them, not wanting to get into another confrontation. It had only been a few seconds, while I waited to see if they’d move on or if I needed to go see if any of the other bathrooms were still open. It was long enough, though, that she finally noticed me, looking at me over Aaron’s shoulder.
He must have noticed her looking past him, because he pushed himself off the wall and turned, his face contorting into anger as soon as he saw me.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
The girl took that moment as a chance for freedom, turning around him and hurrying out of the hall, past me.
“You just cost me a chance at some prime tail, and I owe you for sucker-punching Harry. There aren’t any teachers here, this time,” he said, starting towards me threateningly.
I took as good of a stance as I could with my good foot back as an anchor, getting ready for him. He’d been pretty fast the last time we’d fought, and once he was on me it would be hard to hold my balance, which meant I needed to make the first shot count.
We were both focused so much on each other, neither of us noticed the other three people who came into the hallway behind me.
“Hey, Charlie,” Christian’s voice came from behind me, startling me. “Aaron, don’t you have a game to be losing, or something?”
Aaron pulled up short, looking past me. I took a chance and looked over my shoulder. Behind me Christian and two of the guys who’d been hanging out with him had just turned the corner of the hall, stopping right before me.
Aaron mumbled something, almost certainly an insult, and hurried out of the hall around the four of us.
“Tony brought some party favors,” Christian said. “Wanna go out with us?”
One of the guys, Tony presumably, pulled a small flask out of the inside pocket of his jacket and shook it at me.
“I don’t drink, but I’ll hang for a bit,” I said.
I wasn’t a huge fan of hanging around people when they were drinking, but I did want to get to know Christian and the rest of Marcus’s friends. I was considering trying out for the baseball team in the spring, plus, it wouldn’t hurt to have more friends. Besides, there was a strong chance Aaron hadn’t gone far, probably still spoiling for a fight. I wasn’t afraid of taking on Aaron if I had to, but with my foot still messed up it was probably best to avoid him if at all possible.
“Cool, cool. Let’s go,” he said.
I followed them out a side door and mostly just listened while they talked.
“You sure you don’t want some?” he asked as they passed around the flask, holding it out to me.
“No. My dad was a raging alcoholic, and I think it runs in the family, so I try and stay away from it.”
That wasn’t entirely true. I’d only met that set of grandparents a few times, since he had a pretty bad relationship with both of them. They both died while I was still little, and since he hardly ever talked about them, I didn’t really know if they were alcoholic or not. I did know that getting by in high school relied on what other people, particularly the popular people, thought of you. I was pretty sure being known as a killjoy would be up on that list. While I wasn’t like Rhonda’s friends, constantly craving the approval of others and desperate to be seen as ‘cool,’ I wasn’t going to go out of my way to alienate myself either.
Christian took it in stride, taking another swig and giving the flask back to Tony. We talked for a few more minutes before heading back inside, Christian not wanting to get caught drinking on school property and getting kicked off the team.
When we got back, Rhonda had finished dancing with her friends and looked a little annoyed I was gone, right up until she saw I was hanging with Christian and two other varsity baseball players. Her expression shifted instantly, and she moved to latch onto my side as we continued talking, smiling as she looked back and forth, following the conversation.
I did manage a few more slow dances with her, and even one with Hanna when Marcus asked to dance with Rhonda. The run-in with Aaron was barely a blip on an otherwise great night. Rhonda was over the moon. She’d had a great time dancing and had spent most of the night hanging out with athletes who were at the top of the school’s social hierarchy. While I wasn’t buddy-buddy with Christian and the rest of them, I’d made some friends, which would make things just a little easier at school.
