Chapter 19
After the Early Flight debacle, we were grounded as a band. Charlie still showed up for practice—since it was at his house, he didn’t have much choice—but he wouldn’t play. After a week or so, Joey and I stopped trying to get him to join in.
We made overtures toward peace, eating together at lunch and hanging out on bus rides home. It was a fragile peace, though, built on a single rule: never talk about Charlie’s grandpa. We both skirted around the issue, trading oblique insults about it, but the real subject didn’t come up.
Our fight made things a little harder. But it was good, in a way. I’d come to rely on Charlie for help with Jessica and Loser McGee, but without him I found I was still able to handle it. Even the terrible posts, the ones like that girl who’d said she’d kill herself if she were me, didn’t shake my world like they had before.
I’m not saying that they didn’t suck, but I am saying that Charlie had given me something that didn’t go away in his absence. Or maybe it was Joey who taught me that sometimes the best way to respond to hate was by getting mad. Even though I hadn’t thought much of it way back in freshman year, I started to replay the memory of how he’d shut Jessica down whenever I was feeling low.
We were standing around for the bus… Well, Charlie and I were. Joey had driven home early, like he did every Tuesday. The strange thing about being sophomores was the fact that we weren’t the lowest on the totem pole anymore; there was a whole group of freshmen who stood apart from the rest of us as we waited, like they were afraid we might eat them.
I probably understood that more than the group we were with. Jessica wasn’t there, even though she’d been at school earlier in the day. Perhaps that was why Will, Maya, and the two other boys whose names I didn’t know were allowing us to talk with them.
“So Ashley,” Maya said, “Jessica told me about that performance at the record store a couple months ago. Did you really get to meet Aras Palmer?”
“Yeah. It wasn’t that great, though. He just sang a few bars of our song.” I couldn’t help wondering how long she’d been waiting to ask me about it. Probably since whenever Jessica had told her, or when she’d seen the Loser McGee post. Maybe if I played it down, she wouldn’t be interested in asking too many questions.
Maya’s eyes widened. “He sang your song? Which one?”
“Starstruck Lullaby. But like I said, he only sang a few bars of it.” To my left, I saw the buses start to arrive. Hopefully ours wouldn’t be late. Charlie and I could sit together, and then Maya would take her usual seat further up. Until then, I decided I could humor her.
“Still, though. Think about that for a second. You can honestly say that you performed with a professional! Isn’t that cool?”
“Mhm.” I tried to keep in mind the day back in the locker room, when Maya told Jessica to calm down. If I remembered her as the person who’d tried to stand up for me, I didn’t feel as angry. The only problem was, she hadn’t done anything other than that. She’d been on board with Loser McGee, or at the very least hadn’t tried to stop it.
Maya laughed, as if my non-verbal response was funny somehow. “You’ll have to tell me all about it. Do you wanna sit with me? I don’t think Jessica’s coming today, so…”
Before I could tell her exactly what I thought about the idea—which probably wouldn’t have been pretty—our bus pulled up, announcing its arrival with an ear-splitting screech of worn brakes. The sound was new, since a few weeks ago; it was irritating and painful, but at least we could all tell which bus was ours without much difficulty.
Our group dispersed, forming into a small line as the bus’ doors squeezed open. Charlie and I stayed at the back, since we didn’t much care about where we ended up sitting. I prayed Maya had asked all the questions she wanted to about Auburn; I’d nearly exhausted my ability to pretend we were friends. As far as I could tell, there were only two reasons why she was associating with me: Jessica wasn’t there, and she thought the performance at Cat’s Cradle meant Auburn was going to be famous.
Before long, Charlie and I reached the steps. I let him pick our seat as I made my slow way down the rows. Maya smiled at me when I passed, nodding to an open space right beside her.
For a moment, I wondered what Jessica would do if she knew her best friend wanted to cheat on her. That was a nice feeling, if a strange one; the idea that Maya wanted to be my friend made me smile, even though I wanted to grit my teeth at the same time. After a moment, I continued past her and slid into the seat beside Charlie with a sigh.
“Hey Ash, remember when we got to perform with a professional?” Charlie joked, “Wasn’t that so cool?”
“Yeah, I almost feel like one of the popular kids now.” I rolled my eyes. “How can anyone be so two-faced? You know she knows about the Loser McGee thing…”
Charlie pursed his lips at the mention of Loser McGee. “Maybe you can use this. You know, convince her to tell on Jessica.”
It didn’t seem like a bad idea. Maybe if I just pretended that I wanted to be her friend for a little longer she’d be up for it. There was only one way to find out. “Hey Maya,” I said, leaning over the empty seat in front of us. “Come sit over here!”
Maya rose to her feet, waiting for a break in the line of students before working her way over to the seat in front of us; she fell down onto it heavily, as if the short trip had been incredibly difficult. “Hey Ashley. I thought you didn’t wanna sit with me?”
“Well, Charlie and I always sit together.” There was no denying that it was a lame excuse, but at least it was something. “We just wanted to talk to you about Loser McGee.”
The hint of a smile that she’d been wearing disappeared. “Oh.”
“Yeah. It…” I shook my head, trying to figure out how in the hell I was going to summarize the damage Loser McGee had done. “Please, I just need someone who can prove that Jessica was the one behind it.”
“I don’t know.” She glanced to the side, as if Jessica would appear just because we were talking about her. “Look, I don’t want to get involved. You guys have your thing, and I don’t want to get in the way of it.”
“Our thing?” I could hear my voice rising, but I didn’t much care. “Yeah, if our thing is that she bullies me and makes fun of me and spreads rumors! Yes, if you want to call that ‘our thing,’ then I can see why you wouldn’t want to get in the way. Maybe you’re just afraid that she’ll get mad at you, but it’s not worth protecting her! Don’t you see that? Some things are more important.”
She couldn’t meet my eyes. That bothered me as much as the rest of it; if she was going to tell me that she wouldn’t help, I wanted her to at least have the guts to look at me when she did it. “Ashley, I’m sorry. But I can’t betray a friend like that. You understand, right? I mean, what if I asked you to tell the principal about something Charlie did? You wouldn’t do it.”
“Charlie would never do anything like that. Jessica is just awful, and I don’t get why you don’t have the guts to go against her.”
“I don’t think you’re totally the victim in this.” She finally met my eyes, like she’d gained the tiniest bit of backbone. “I’ve been there when you and Joey were pretty mean to Jessica. I think the Loser McGee thing might be a bit far, but if you don’t like it then you don’t have to look at it. Right?”
My jaw clenched. “That’s not fair. Just because I don’t have to look at it doesn’t give you guys the right to say whatever terrible things you want!”
A few feet away, I saw Jessica walking toward us. She came to a stop next to Maya’s seat and cleared her throat loudly, her glare shifting between me and Maya. “Hey Maya, sorry I’m late. Mr. Schmitt was trying to get me to join the Math club again.” Her tone was deadly, so quiet that I doubted anyone other than the three of us could hear it. “Why are you sitting so far back? This is where all the burn-outs sit.” Her eyes locked on me. “The ones with toy guitars, who play in front of the dumpsters. Watch out, if you hang out with
them too long the whole school will start making fun of you. Isn’t that right?” She started to sit, as if she thought that was the end of the conversation.
Something in me snapped. I knew what I should probably do—sit back and pretend I didn’t care about what she’d said—but I couldn’t. I was too worked up. “Hey Jessica,” I spat, “What’s the matter? Aren’t you gonna greet Juliet? Or Loser McGee, or whatever BS name you have for me this week?”
“Okay, Loser McGee.” She turned back around to face me. “What are you doing talking to my friend? Don’t you know that us normal people don’t like being around you?”
“Oh yeah, the whole ‘no one likes you’ thing. God, I’ve never heard that one before.”
Her lips drew into a thin scowl. “Maybe you hear it a lot because it’s true. Just like how everyone says you’re a skank.”
The insult was so generic, I had to resist the urge to laugh. “Yeah, I’ve been called a skank. Come on Jessica, stretch that little brain and think of something new. Wanna call me ugly? Guess what? I’ve heard that one, and I’m still here. How about a freak show? Yeah, still here after that one too. How about saying that if you were me you would kill yourself? Been there, done that, and I’m still fucking here. So hit me with your best shot, because I’m done caring what you have to say.”
For the first time, Jessica didn’t seem to have a response for me. In fact, I could see her brow wrinkle with confusion, as if she actually couldn’t think of a good reply. Just like when Joey had told her to shut up. When I sat back in my seat, I felt Charlie’s arm around me. Maybe I didn’t need it, but it felt nice to have his support. Truth was, I almost wished Joey had been there; he would have been proud of me, standing up to Jessica all by myself.
We didn’t talk any more during the bus ride. On some level, I felt like Jessica had finally been beaten. Not because I hadn’t let her drag me down—I think it’s obvious I didn’t exactly take the high road—but because she’d taught me one final lesson. Sometimes, I was the only person who could fight my battles. No amount of cussing from Joey, no amount of comfort from Charlie, and no amount of promises from Wroth had ever shut Jessica down. I’d been the one to finally do it.
When the bus came to the second stop, Jessica and Maya got up. Jessica glanced back over her shoulder. “You know, maybe I should write a song about this. Only, mine won’t be a crybaby song about how hard my life is.”
“No one would like your song,” I said. “There’s a reason why no one listens to songs about stuck up little bitches. You know what, Maya? We’ll never be friends. You may not think you’re just as bad as her, but you are. So go home and do whatever boring stuff you do. Go post on Loser McGee, but I’m gonna go practice with my band. I’m going to do something that matters.”
“’Something that matters,’” Jessica said, squeezing out into the aisle. “That’s a good one.”
I thought Maya would follow her off, but she didn’t. She paused, looking at me with a half-grimace. “Um… I’m sorry.” After a moment, she made her way toward the door, leaving me without any more explanation.
She was sorry. I didn’t know what to do with that.