Travis Starnes
patreon
Playing by Ear (Country Roads #1) - Chapter 28
🕑 Added 2021-05-21 16:36:20 +0000 UTCMonday I still couldn’t get what happened out of my mind. No matter what I did on Sunday, I kept coming back to Rhonda.
It wasn’t her talking to Aaron, although I didn’t love that. She was her own person and I wasn’t so jealous that I couldn’t deal with her just talking to guys, although I wished she’d picked someone who hated me just a little less to have a conversation with.
It also wasn’t how certain I was that she’d lied to me when I asked how the football players ended up at the party, and why I wasn’t so sure her conversation with Aaron had been as innocuous as she said it was.
My real problem was that I wasn’t entirely surprised that she’d lied to me. Deep down, I knew I didn’t trust her. It’s why I knew we weren’t destined to last. I didn’t love Rhonda; we hadn’t even known each other that long. I really liked her though, and enjoyed the time we spent together, and it hurt knowing that she’d do something that would end up breaking us up, and she’d probably do it soon.
She wasn’t a bad person, she just couldn’t see past her social status and how others saw her. It was just who she was, and in the end, that’s what was going to break us up. While I knew it was coming, I wasn’t in a hurry to hasten it. She was my first girlfriend and when it happened, it was going to really hurt.
So when lunchtime rolled around, I took the cowards option.
“I know we were going to go sit with your friends today, but can we rearrange things and sit with my friends? They asked for an update about how playing at the party went and when I was playing with Willie out of town again. I promise we can sit with them tomorrow.”
“Sure,” she said, not sounding thrilled.
Again, it wasn’t that she disliked Hanna and the rest of the lunch group. She actually seemed to like Hanna when we all spent time together outside of school. It was the social climber in her again. No one at the lunch table was part of any popular clique and some of that unpopularity rubbed off on her each time she sat with us.
“How’d it go on Saturday?” Peyton asked when we sat down.
“Pretty good.”
“It went better than pretty good,” Jordan said. “I was there for the first hour or so before I had to take off, and he killed it. The first song was kinda off, but when he just started playing without trying to go along with a playlist, or whatever that first thing was, he killed it.”
“Yeah, one of the guys who play at the Blue Ridge suggested it as an option when playing solo. He said he sometimes plays off a backing track with everything but lead guitar and vocals, so you still get the feel of a full band. I should have tried it out first before I got there, but Saturday was so busy I didn’t get a chance to. I knew how much it sucked after the first song and bailed on it.”
“It didn’t suck,” Jordan said. “It just wasn’t as good as anything else you played that night.”
“Well, it sucked for me. It’s no fun to play like that.”
“What really rocked was after that though,” Jordan said, continuing his report. “He played a song from a rock opera that most of us knew, and everyone started singing along. After that people started calling out requests and it became a whole thing.”
Not everyone at the table seemed sold on Jordan’s description. Jordan was in choir and hoped to one day sing on Broadway, which explained why it was right up his alley. Normal people would probably not be into that as the entertainment at a party, where they’d rather just dance.
“It was the right party for it.”
“You guys would a’ had fun had you been there,” Jordan said.
“We’ll take your word on it,” Megan said. “So, I hadn’t heard; how’d the thing in Ashville go?”
“Really good. The bar was twice as big as the Blue Ridge and they had tables on two floors, looking down at the stage. Willie introduced me separately and had me take over for a little while. The crowd seemed to get into it, and the owner said it went well.”
“Maybe you’ll be able to go back there sometime, like on your own,” Fatima said.
“Maybe, although not anytime soon. He liked me, but it’s not like I know him, and I can’t imagine a bar owner being crazy about having a minor on stage by themselves. If I screwed the pooch, he still had Willie there, which is who he hired in the first place. Besides, they have people like Willie play so they can bring in more customers, but for that to work, the musician needs enough of a fan base to make that a selling point.”
“You’re getting there,” Rhonda said.
“Just at the Blue Ridge. It’s not like people are driving in an hour to catch a show. If they’re in the area they might stop by, but most of the crowd is locals, and they’d be there even if I weren’t playing.”
“Charlie’s being modest,” Hanna said. “I know Chef tells him the numbers, and we can all see how much business has picked up on nights you’re there to play. You don’t see how much the place empties out when you head out for the night. The last set has about the same business as it had before you started playing, maybe a little less. It isn’t locals just looking for something to do. People are coming out to see you.”
“Maybe,” I said.
She was right, but I still wasn’t comfortable with a ton of praise. Chef had been showing me the numbers, and they’d discussed just scrapping the set after I left. The reason he was keeping it was because I left so early and he didn’t want to upset the people who were used to music going several hours later than I could play.
“Maybe we should try and go to Ashville to catch your next show.”
“I think Willie said it’s also at a bar and isn’t eighteen plus.”
“I have a fake ID,” Joseph said.
“Of course you do,” Megan said, rolling her eyes. “I bet it looks nothing like you.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “It’s a lot more blues and a lot less pop and modern stuff, since all of the locations are places Willie has played before. Unless you’re into that, you’re better off just going to the Blue Ridge.”
“How many more do you have,” Jordan asked.
“Just one more, which is Willie’s last show in Ashville. After that, he heads further south and will be staying in the towns he’s playing in. I get in enough trouble here without skipping a few weeks of school.”
“He’ll be taking over the Blue Ridge on the nights Willie’s out of town, though,” Hanna said.
“Not all of it. They’ll still have the band continue playing blues after I leave, since I can’t play as late as they need to, especially on Sunday nights. It’s hard enough to convince Mom to let me play without coming home in the middle of the night on a school night.”
“So it’ll be like Saturday’s are now, but all weekend?” Megan asked.
“Yep. We’ve already started working on extending the sets so we aren’t playing the same thing all three nights.”
I noticed Cameron hadn’t shown up yet. Since he started sitting with us he’d been one of the first people at the table. I thought maybe he was running a little slow, considering how smashed he’d been on Saturday. It was probably unlikely, since I hadn’t heard of anyone needing two days to recover from a hangover, but it was possible.
“Has anyone seen Cameron? He’s normally here by now,” I asked.
“He was in my third-period class,” Peyton said.
“Maybe he’s sick,” I said. “He was really hammered on Saturday.”
“Nah, he seemed fine. Plus, two days is enough to get over a hangover. He probably just had something to do.”
“Maybe,” I said. Not believing it.
I had a pretty good idea why he wasn’t there: I’d just been looking for other reasons first.
“I actually need to go take care of something. I’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay?”
Rhonda got up and started to follow me out of the cafeteria.
“Hey,” I said, stopping to face her. “Something happened with Cameron on Saturday, and it’s something I need to deal with in private. Would it be okay if I dealt with this and caught up after?”
“Sure,” she said, looking back at the lunch table.
“Go sit with your friends; it’s okay. If I get done before lunch is over, I’ll meet you there.”
“Okay,” she said, sounding relieved. “If I don’t see you I’ll meet you in the parking lot before you and Hanna leave.”
“Look forward to it,” I said, kissing her.
I had a few guesses where to find him, but I only needed the first. The Choir room sometimes had kids in it practicing during lunch, so I headed to the auditorium. It was a small room, about the size of two classrooms with a small stage on one side and an extended set of bleachers like we had in the gym, capable of seating maybe thirty people.
Cameron was sitting on one of the bleachers, looking down at the bench in front of him. He must have been pretty deep in thought, because he didn’t hear me coming until I stepped on the bleacher, and started walking up to him.
“Ohh, Charlie,” He said starting to stand up. “I was just …”
“Sit back down,” I said. “I know what you were doing.”
He seemed unsure, but he listened, sitting back in the spot he’d just vacated. I took the seat next to him, stretching my feet out to the bench below us.
“We missed you at lunch.”
“I wasn’t hungry.”
“Maybe, but that isn’t why you didn’t come to lunch. I was first thinking I should just ignore it, since drawing attention to what happened might make you uncomfortable. Now, I think if I don’t say anything I might lose you as a friend. We haven’t known each other long, but I don’t have enough friends to just let one walk away without trying to do something about it.”
“Charlie, I don’t …”
“Can I go first?” I asked.
I was pretty sure he was going to deny anything was wrong, trying to dig a hole and hide in it. I was pretty sure Cameron wasn’t out. He’d made a few comments about girls before, the kind of off-handed stuff guys sometimes do between themselves. I hadn’t really thought much about it before, but looking back, I realized it wasn’t all that convincing. It was performative.
“I’m not one-hundred percent sure if you’re just embarrassed or if you’re worried I’ll say something to someone else. The second one’s easy; I won’t, not unless you say it’s okay. I’m not sure if you’re keeping it a secret or not, so you let me know how you want me to handle it, and that’s what I’ll do. I can promise you that it doesn’t bother me or change how I feel about you. I still consider you a friend, as long as you still want to be friends with me.”
He just nodded, not looking up.
“The first one’s harder. I can tell you that you shouldn’t be embarrassed but telling someone how to feel doesn’t usually work. I know it sucks to make a pass at someone and get shot down, and for that I’m sorry. What I can tell you is it won’t change how I act towards you or think about you. I hope you can get over the embarrassment and we can go on being friends, but that’s your decision. All I can do is try to treat you the same, and hope you’ll believe me.”
We both sat quietly for a little while. The bell would be ringing soon and I’d have to go, but I didn’t want to push him. I once asked out this girl at one of the clubs who was nine years older than me. I was just a kid, which meant I never had a shot, but she was really cool about it. I wanted to sprint out of the backstage area and hide in the RV but she stopped me and told me she was flattered but that I was just too young for her. I’d always liked her because she treated me as a person and not a kid, and she kept treating me like that afterward.
I’d been mortified, but she’d promised she wouldn’t treat me any different, and she hadn’t. It was weird, for me at least, the next few times I saw her, but after a while, I got over it. I hadn’t seen her since a few months before Dad’s incident. With Mom and me living out here, it was unlikely I’d ever see her again. I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to her.
“I’m sorry,” Cameron finally said. “I knew you were straight and normally I’d never do something like that but I kinda lost my head.”
“Is ‘lost my head’ code for being blitzed out of your mind,” I asked, smiling at him.
“Yeah,” he said with a laugh.
“So … are you out?”
“No! My parents would freak out if they knew. A few people in theatre know, and a guy I sorta dated at choir camp last year, but that’s it.”
“Okay. I’ll keep my mouth shut. You know if you ever need anyone to talk to …”
“I know. I knew you’d be cool about this, but I still chickened out.”
“Well, look on the upside. Next time you get hammered and hit on someone; you have someone you can come talk to.”
“Ha! Yeah, right.”
The bell rang and we both grabbed our bags and headed down the bleachers. Cameron reached out and put a hand on my shoulder, pulling me to a stop.
“Thanks, Charlie.”
“No problem,” I said, slapping him on the shoulder. “Do you want to go with me to my gig this weekend? I’m not saying it’s a sure thing, since I have to ask, but if they’re cool with me bringing someone, you could go.”
“Really? I mean, yeah. Why wouldn’t you bring Rhonda or one of your other friends?”
“Think of it as a peace offering. I want you to know I’m serious about still wanting to be your friend, plus you’re in choir, you do theatre, so I know you’re really into music. It makes sense to bring someone who loves music as much as I do.”
“Don’t expect me to question it twice, I’m in.”
“Okay. Remember, I still have to get permission.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you,” He said, looking much better as he headed to class.
I may have overstepped my bounds on the offer. To say Willie didn’t love the idea would be an understatement.
“You want to bring a friend to a gig I’m bringing you to?”
“I just thought I’d ask. Cameron loves music and I kind of owe him. He’s a good guy and I can promise you he won’t cause any problems.”
“Maybe you can ask them if your plus one gets a plus one,” Dwight the piano player said, which got the rest of the other guys laughing at me.
“Thanks for the assist, Dwight.”
“No problem, I’ve always got your back,” he said, laughing again.
“It’s okay if you say ‘no.’ I just thought there’s no harm in asking.”
“Normally I’d say ‘yes,’ but the place we’re going this time isn’t quite like where we went last time.”
“We’re playing somewhere dangerous?”
“It’s not like that. It’s a fine place, it just isn’t a venue built with music in mind directly. This is more of an old school bar, with a stage in one corner.”
“So like the Blue Ridge.”
“The Blue Ridge was a restaurant first, with a bar and stage added on later. It’s also not as family-friendly.”
“If you think it isn’t safe, I’ll let him know it’ll have to be another time, no problem.”
Willie rubbed his face and said, “No, no. I get you’re excited. We started off with a bang and this is only your second gig outside the Blue Ridge. You can bring him, just remember you’re responsible if he causes problems.”
“He won’t, I promise.”
Except for the Rhonda situation, which both of us chose to ignore for the time being, everything else was looking up. Cameron was pumped about going with us on Saturday, the weekend sets at the Blue Ridge had gone great, and Wednesday, I started to finally feel like I was making progress in my studies. Kat had been skipping ahead quickly on the subjects she reviewed with me, just going over stuff that was needed to understand the topics we were currently covering in class, so I was ready for the next test.
She said we could always go back and cover the skipped foundations later, either when those ideas were needed or when we had the time to. Whatever we had to do so I didn’t seem so lost in math class worked for me, although she makes sure I understood we weren’t skipping them for good. We’d have to go back to those topics eventually.
“Can I ask you a question?” I said during downtime in the session.
“Sure.”
“What are you doing with Aaron?”
“I … uhh …” she said, trailing off and looking down at her lap.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to answer, I’m not trying to put you on the spot or embarrass you. I’m genuinely curious. You seem like a really nice person and from the way you talk about people, it seems like you care about others. I completely get why he’d want to be with you, what I can’t work out is why you’d be with someone like him.”
“He’s not always bad.”
“Really? I mean, I believe he’s not always mean to you, but I saw how he and his friends treated you a few weeks ago and you made it a point to say you wouldn’t mention your tutoring me to him.”
“He just gets … I just don’t want to make him mad is all.”
“If someone really likes you, they shouldn’t get mad at you just because of who you hang out with.”
I realized I had some hypocrisy on that front, considering I wasn’t thrilled about Rhonda talking to Aaron, but I’d manage to rationalize that as being not the same thing.
“I don’t know.”
“Okay, new question.”
“Why so many questions?”
“Honestly, because you fascinate me. I’m having a tough time figuring you out. Sometimes you’re so sure of yourself when it’s just you and me hanging out. You’ve been able to give me shit when I’m wrong, make jokes, that kind of thing. Other times it’s like, I don’t know, it’s like you shrink into yourself.”
“I guess,” she said in a small voice.
“Hey,” I said, putting a finger under her chin, pushing her head up to look at me. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. I’m not trying to put you on the spot or make you feel bad.”
I pulled my hand away. Thankfully she didn’t drop her eyes back into her lap.
“I guess I just get scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“Of everything. Will the person think I’m stupid, or mean, or boring? Will I say the wrong thing and they’ll think I insulted them or that I don’t like them? Will I let them down? I just get all anxious.”
“You’re not always like that though. When it’s just you and me, it’s like you’re a completely different person.”
“I guess I just feel comfortable. There are people I don’t feel worried about, if I know them well enough or if they’re the type of person who wouldn’t get mad or let down if I screwed up.”
“You don’t know me that well, so I’m not the first one, but how could you know if I’m the second one or not, since you don’t know me that well.”
“I’ve seen you around. You were nice to Hanna, and not a lot of people have been since … the incident. You helped me out that one time. I don’t know; you just seemed like you didn’t judge people for stuff.”
Someone else who seemed to know about whatever happened in Hanna’s past. It seemed everyone knew about it but me, not that I needed to know. It just felt important and a key to understanding why Hanna was so resistant to making new friends and branching out.
“I try to be, and I’m glad you think so, but that makes it even more confusing. Aaron is definitely not that kind of person, or at least I’ve seen him judge a lot of people for the tiniest stuff. Are you saying you don’t act like yourself when you’re with him?”
“I … he likes it when I’m quiet.”
“Sorry, I’ll stop pressing,” I said as she started becoming visibly uncomfortable again.
“No, it’s okay. I get why you’re confused. I am too sometimes. I guess part of it is when I’m with him, no one really pays attention to me. I’m just an add-on. He takes all the spotlight, so it makes it easier to hide.”
“That doesn’t seem like a great reason to date someone.”
“I know. Also, he was pretty insistent when he first told me I was going to go out with him and … I don’t do great at saying no.”
“He just told you that you were going out with him?”
She just nodded, starting to look at her hands again before surprising me by looking up and making eye contact.
“I know it’s bad. I really do. I just … I don’t know what to do. I get anxious and scared and it’s just easier to do whatever I’m being told to do.”
Even though she had some pauses, she wasn’t mumbling or timid. She was trying to work it out for herself, something she probably hadn’t done before. If I had to guess, no one had really asked her these questions.
While I was happy she wasn’t retreating into herself, this was well beyond me. Someone had done a number to this girl somewhere in her past and really screwed her up. I wasn’t an expert, but this didn’t seem like a learning disability of some kind. She was smart, clever when she needed to be, she just had a massive lack of confidence, afraid to do the wrong thing to the point of inaction.
“That has to cause you problems, doesn’t it?”
“Yes. I’ve … I’ve done things I’m not proud of. Things I wish I hadn’t done, after.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“You haven’t done anything,” she said, looking down again, her voice falling off into a mumble.
“No,” I said, lifting her head back up to look at me. “I mean I’m sorry for you. I empathize. Please don’t go back to hiding. I like the Kat who’s here tutoring me, I’d be pretty sad if she disappeared again.”
She pressed her chin into my hand, closing her eyes, and I realized I had to be very careful with her. She had some massive baggage, and the last thing she needed was someone taking advantage of her. What I needed to do was talk to someone smarter than me.
“How about we get back to work?” I said, pulling my hand away.
She seemed better after that. Her teaching mode was focused, she knew what her task was and she was able to do it clear-headed. Near the end of our time, she worried me for a moment when she sat down her pencil and turned to look at me.
“I know who posted the stuff about Hanna,” she said.
“What?”
“Those social media posts, I know who posted them.”
“Who?”
“Karen Brooks.”
“That makes sense. She and Hanna do not get along. Can you prove it?”
“Maybe. There are ways to pull up identifying information on any post, if you know where to look.”
“I’m guessing you’re genius enough to do that, aren’t you.”
“Maybe.”
She wasn’t coy or playful when she said maybe. She was concentrating, like she was thinking through how she’d do it. When I called her a genius I was playing, not actually thinking she could do it. I knew that Kat knew her stuff, but it hadn’t occurred to me until that moment how smart she might actually be.
“Don’t do anything that could get you in trouble, but if you could find that for me, I’d really appreciate it.”
“Okay.”
Again, she wasn’t acting like she did when she was agreeing because she was afraid not to. This was the voice she used in tutoring, what I was starting to think of as her real voice, the one she was too afraid to show people.
The bell rang, ending the conversation as we both packed up our stuff to head to our next classes. On the way out of the door, Kat stopped, blocking the door. She didn’t look at me, keeping her eyes on the floor.
“I have a swim meet on Sunday afternoon. Did you want to come see it?” she said in a soft voice.
My Sundays were pretty full. I had training with Chef in the afternoon, practice with the band, and a set that night, but it was clear how hard it was for her to ask me that. She was practically trembling. Saying no would crush her and probably make it harder to ask for something like this the next time.
“I’d love to. What time?”
“Two.”
“I have some stuff to rearrange, but I’ll make it.”
“You don’t have …”
“Hey,” I said, grabbing her hand. “I said I’d make it. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Okay,” she said, pulling out of my grasp and practically running away from me.
She was a strange girl, no doubt.
