Drummer Girl (17 page)

27 |
eighth-note triplets

Tuesday Sid alternated between stewing and doing the homework Brock had so kindly dropped off. In the evening James took her to visit Taylor. James never left the room – part of the grounding he had meted out for skipping school Monday was not being out of sight – and even though Taylor was awake, she never got the chance to catch him up on what was happening. But she didn't need Taylor's advice on this one, anyway. After the day she'd had she'd pretty much decided she wanted the police to throw the book at Wes and the band. More than that, use the book to squash them like the bugs they were.

She'd told Brock she wanted to hit something – now more than ever. She wondered if she should take up boxing.

When they left the hospital, James said he had to stop at Aunt Kathy's. That suited Sid. Heather owed her a few answers. Aunt Kathy answered the door and told Sid to go to Heather's room, that she was doing homework.

Sid tapped on Heather's door and walked in without waiting for an answer. Her cousin was on the floor, wearing only her panties and bra, and blowing on her fingernails as she read a magazine spread out on the floor. She looked up in total unconcern and returned to her reading.

Sid dropped onto the creamy satin duvet. “
Cosmopolitan?
What class is that for?”

Heather shook her head. “My efforts were so lost on you. Look at yourself. The jeans are fine, but another stupid band shirt. How many of those do you own?”

“Not enough.” Sid smiled pleasantly. “I kind of like mixing and matching. You taught me lots of good stuff. But some of the tops you picked out feel too...skanky.”

“Oh? I hear that's your new style.” Heather said it lightly, as if discussing the merits of yellow jelly beans over green.

Sid slid to the floor with a thud and rested fists on thighs. She tried to keep images of the video out of her head, wishing she'd pocketed another roll of antacids. Her voice was raw. “I was framed.” She cleared her throat. “So who did you tell about me and Brad? Because somehow it got to our school.”

Heather paused with her brush fanned across her thumb nail. “That little infatuation? You might say you prefer nice over cool, but when that dishy guy came to me and started asking about you I knew you'd changed your mind.”

Sid leaned forward and scowled at the makeup ad on the magazine page that lay open. She
had
said that. Nice
was
important to her. That's why she was friends with a couple of nice guys. Why hadn't that counted for her? Had she been temporarily insane, thinking that being in the band was the absolutely, most important thing?

She leaned against the bed and sighed. “With dating, yeah, I like nice. I wish you hadn't told Brad that crap about Taylor being my boyfriend and me going wild because we'd split.”

Heather carefully replaced the brush in the nail polish bottle and secured the lid. She twisted to face Sid, her puzzlement written on her face. “I never said that to Brad. Though come to think of it, the second time the dishy guy talked to me, I pointed Brad out to him and he talked to Brad after he left me. Maybe he was eliminating the competition.”

She looked and sounded so sincere. Sid tapped her knee harshly. “Hang on. What dishy guy are you talking about?”

Heather blinked rapidly. “How could you not know? He was so intense. Wanted to know everything about you. Wanted to hook up. At least, that's what he said.”

“Did he have a name or did he just call himself Dishy Guy?”

“Of course he had a name. It was almost a girl's name. Oh! I remember. Because after he walked away, Coral and I started singing, ‘Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling, Clementine'.” She giggled. “So, did this Jeff Clementine guy ask you out?”

Clem. Sid's stomach churned and rage thundered in her ears. “That jerkwad. He didn't ask me out. And he won't.” He had found out about Brad from Heather and had told him that crap about Taylor and her. Clem had been the driving force behind everything. Sid wanted to drive, too –
her fist into his face. She struggled to relax her fists. To breathe.

Heather interrupted Sid's racetrack of thoughts. “So Coral was practically salivating on Thursday, just had to tell me a rumour about you and a nasty video. I told her no way would you do that.” She paused. “I was joking earlier, you know. I didn't teach you to dress skanky. Nothing we bought was at all sleazy. That was just a dig about this video Coral mentioned, which wasn't even there when I checked, by the way. But that's what you meant isn't it? About being framed? The video was real?”

Sid bit the inside of her lip, frowned at Heather's orange nails and nodded. “Clem set it up.”
Breathe-2-3-4. Exhale-2-3-4.
He wasn't worth losing her cool over.

Heather lifted her shoulders almost delicately. “If it means anything, I am sorry. I wish now I hadn't talked to him.”

Like Heather would not talk to a cute guy. Sid stood. “Sure. Listen. I'm going to let you finish up. Maybe I'll get some fresh air.” Clear the stink from her thoughts.

James, Aunt Kathy and Uncle Peter were talking over coffee in the kitchen. Sid paused by the table. “Take it easy on the coffee, Dad. You're past your limit for the day.” She glanced at Uncle Peter. “Mind if I go sit on your deck?” He waved his permission.

The deck had three levels. The highest had a hot tub and French doors that led to the master bedroom. The middle and lower decks were dotted with padded chairs and potted plants. Flower beds nestled against all three fences, separated from pristine grass by a brick retaining wall that curved in and out to give the impression of waves. It was beautiful and looked just like Sid's living room: a place where no one lived.

Sid went to the top deck and leaned against the rail. The neighbour to the left had an equally manicured yard, but the one to the right was messy by comparison. The owners were even allowing a few dandelions to invade, which was probably totally against neighbourhood policy. There was a vegetable plot speckled by weeds and half hidden by a lengthening fence shadow, and a chest-high portable pool glowing blue in the evening sun.

While Sid watched, Brad entered the yard pulling a hose. Sid had expected that he lived a few houses away, like Taylor did on her block. Brad tugged the hose to the back of the yard. He plucked a few weeds from the garden, then stood back and turned on the hose's nozzle.

Sid headed to the fence, picking up a chair as she went. She straddled the chair over a clump of green shoots and balanced on its frame as she hoisted herself up. Her elbows hung down into Brad's yard. He hadn't noticed her.

Someone small with a black mop of curly hair, who could only be Brad's sister, opened a back door and yelled at Brad to remind him to water her pumpkins. The girl spotted Sid and stared for a moment, then yelled, “Brad's got a girlfriend!” and ducked back inside.

He startled at that and looked all around. He turned the hose at the same time and a spray of water almost caught Sid. It did get the fence. Brad was facing her now, ears like red flags.

Sid said, “If you step a little closer you can soak me...if that's what you're trying to do.”

“What? Oh.” Brad released the nozzle trigger and dropped the hose. He advanced toward her warily. Did she look like she might bite? “What are you doing here?”

“Dad came over to see his sister. I'm grounded so was forced to come.”

He stood an arm's length away. His head almost came to the top of the fence. “Why grounded?”

“For skipping school on Monday.”

“So you could be with your boyfriend.”

“Don't start that, Brad.” Sid looked both ways, saw no one, jumped so her waist was folded over the top of the fence, swung a leg over and leaped down. She fell by Brad's feet. He made no move to help her up. She brushed herself off and planted her fists against her hips. “Taylor has only ever been my friend. Period.”

“You must have a boyfriend. You kiss too good to not have experience.”

“Funny, I thought the same thing about you.” Surprise claimed his expression. Sid shrugged. “Maybe we just fit when it comes to that.”

He considered this for a moment. “And the video thing?”

She sighed and leaned against the fence, then straightened and brushed at her now damp sleeve. “Can I tell you a story? Then I'll go. I promise.”

He stood for a full minute, studying her, the fence, the sky. Finally he motioned toward dry grass, and they both sat. He edged away so they weren't in danger of touching. Sid told him the same thing she'd told the police officer the day before, but in shortened form. It was less painful this time, because she'd done it once, but also because she found Brad so easy to talk to. When she was finished, he sat in silence.

Sid stood and brushed off her backside. Brad stayed where he was, frowning at his hands. Sid crouched back beside him and he looked up. She wanted, more than anything, to give him one last kiss. She leaned forward slightly, stared into his ocean-coloured eyes, wishing she could lose herself in their depths. With a quiet sigh, she said good-bye and walked along the fence to the front gate she'd only just spotted.

With each step she reminded herself,
Don't look back.

28 |
dynamic range

Sid arrived at school at 9:15 and went to Brock's office. He wasn't there, but shortly returned from getting the police officers set up for the 9:30 assembly. He escorted Sid to the backstage area, out of sight of anyone in the auditorium, just minutes before the announcement came for classes to make their way to the assembly. The well-practised drill took less than fifteen minutes.

Sid was deep in shadows when she noticed Brock across the stage in the other wing, showing some adults to chairs. The parents of Wes and the band? Sid pulled out a fresh roll of antacid tablets and popped two into her mouth.

The police officers did their schtick, telling the students about cyber bullying and how easy it was to manipulate information on the Internet, giving all the usual warnings against such behaviour, moving on to how certain types of behaviour qualified as sexual harassment. Sid could hear
rustling and could imagine how bored all the students were. Even she was bored.

Then Officer Downing said, “Now we come to the specifics of why we're here. We want to address a case of cyber bullying that happened last week in this school.”

Dead silence. Sid sank onto the floor and hugged her knees to her chest. It was hard to hear over the thrumming in her ears and she figured she missed half of what was said as the officers discussed the “case,” minus names, its seriousness and possible outcomes. They included a warning that any harassment of the girl involved, or of any girl in a similar manner, could result in charges. The male officer finished off by saying, “You are all over twelve years of age. That means you are all old enough to stand before a judge and be held legally accountable for your actions.”

More silence. It stretched and stretched, wrapped around Sid's throat. Squeezed. Needing air, she slipped away. She couldn't leave the school, so she retreated to Brock's office and opened a window. Cheek against the screen, she counted her breaths. Four counts in; four counts out.

They were going to do it. They were going to charge the guys. Yesterday that would've thrilled her. Why didn't she feel happy? Why did she feel her insides tying into endless knots?

Footsteps tramped by the door. Sid glanced and saw the adults who'd been in the other wing filing past Brock's window. She turned her face away, not wanting any of them to look her in the eye. They must be meeting in the staff room. The parents, the guys, the police and, no doubt, Brock. His hand was in all of this.

The door opened. Brock poked his head inside. “I hoped this is where I'd find you. Thanks for sticking around. I won't be long, Sidney. Stay here.”

Sid found a National Geographic
dvd
about the rain forest and put it in the player-
tv
combo in the middle of the wall of shelves. She settled into Brock's chair and waited. So far she'd spent the day being invisible, but she was going to have to face people soon. She'd have to walk into class and everyone would stare. She really hated that thought. Rare monkeys and anacondas and piranhas weren't making her feel any better about things.

James walked in. He seemed startled to see her, though the secretary had to have told him where she was. Before she could speak, he blurted, “Listen, Sid. I know you don't want me here, but I'd like to be. I want to know how things turn out. I'll wait outside this office, but I want you to know I'm here. And... I'll support you no matter what happens. Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay, Dad. Ah... Yeah.”

He stepped forward as if he might hug her, then sighed and turned away.

“Daddy?” He spun back. Sid stood. “Why don't you hug me any more?”

“You...you're a young woman now, Sid. I thought I was, you know, giving you space. It can get awkward for a dad, having his little girl look and, ah, feel so womanly.” He fell silent, slid his foot forward half a step. “Do you...want a hug?”

She closed her eyes and nodded. The next thing she knew familiar arms were wrapping her in a bubble of warmth. Her hands rested against James's chest and his heartbeat pulsed against her palms.

He kissed the top of her head. “I love you. I'm sorry I let my job become more important than you. It isn't.” He released her. “Do you want me to stay in here or wait outside?”

She glanced around the small room. Two people made it seem crowded. “I wouldn't mind being alone for a bit. So I can think. Just knowing you're out there is good.”

He nodded and left. She was still staring at the door when Brock came in. “Listen, Sid. It isn't quite playing out like I'd thought.”

Before she could reply,
vp
Finning's solid frame filled the doorway. She scowled at Brock. “I want this done and over, Mr. Brock. Just the way we agreed.” She left and Brock quietly closed the door, then leaned against it as he faced Sid. “I want you to understand that none of this is my choice. I was forced to agree.”

She gave him a questioning look.

“And I want you to understand that I believe what you told Officer Downing. All of it.”

“What's going on, Brock?”

He closed his eyes and sighed. “The police won't be pressing charges. They said there isn't enough evidence to support your claims. The video is inconclusive.” His eyes flew open. “I disagree with that. I think it's very plain that you were forced. But they don't think it's clear enough to hold up in a court of law. And beyond the video, there is just Rocklin's word against yours. The other boys are supporting him, saying you were willing.”

“What? How could they –” Of course they could. Rocklin was their leader, and they'd never desert him. Loyal to the end. “That stinks.”

“It does. And it means the police are handing the situation back to the school.”

“So what exactly did you and
vp
Finning agree to?” She quickly amended, “I mean, what did she tell you had to happen?”

“She wants reconciliation. The boys did admit they recorded the kiss and that they posted it without your permission. So they have to apologize to you and that will be the end of it.”

“That stinks worse. None of the apologies will be genuine. You know that. So what if I refuse?”

“Then
vp
Finning told me she will assume that you were in on this little ‘video prank,' as she called it, and that it was all for the purposes of advertising Rocklin's band. And she will suspend all of you for the whole week.”

“All! Including me?”

Brock nodded. “I protested as strongly as I could. You're the victim here. But she's adamant. The apologies are where it ends so far as the school is concerned.”

Sid sat and rested her forearms on Brock's desk. “Fine. Whatever. And I'll laugh in their faces for their fakeness.”

“You sound a little angry, Sidney.”

“Do I? Where will we be doing this apology crap?”

“
vp
Finning is letting me handle the actual apologies. We can do it right here. They'll come in one at a time.”

“Oh, good.” The thought of it made Sid pop another pair of antacid tablets. “And you?”

“I'll stay beside you if you'll let me.”

“Why not? You do strive to be the grand puppet master, after all.” He gave her a puzzled look and she blurted, “Did you call my dad?”

“No.”

She sank back in the chair, folded her arms and drummed her hidden fingers against her ribs. James had decided to be here without any prompting? That was something she wished she had time to think about. Maybe Brock wasn't manipulating them like she'd thought.

Han came in first. He hadn't had anything to do with the video scam except to watch it unfold, but he sounded truly sorry about that, and pretty disgusted with his friends. Not enough to tell the truth about the forced kiss. Sid couldn't bring herself to laugh.

Clem was belligerent as he explained he'd been in a band where a girl had caused problems and he didn't want one in his band. Ever. No matter how good she played. He grudgingly admitted he and Wes might have stepped over a line in posting the video online.

That was all. Here was the real puppet-master, but he didn't admit to that. Sid was too choked by his attitude to say anything at all.

Clem left and Rocklin walked in with his mother, who looked extremely put out at having to go through this process. Sid turned to Brock and whispered, “Why is she here?”

“She insisted that if I stay, she stays. And there is no way I'm leaving you alone with him, Sid. Just go with it. You're doing great.”

Rock also appeared plenty ticked off. Not at Sid, as it turned out. “Wes and Clem set me up. They were the ones who played me, not you. I didn't know about that video. I swear. We were all laughing and joking around after and I said a few stupid things, but that unzipped fly thing? No way. I didn't even know they did that.”

Rocklin took a deep breath. “Thing is, you're a great drummer. That's all that should matters. Man, the music
is
all that matters.”

Sid's breath froze in her lungs. Was he going to offer her the gig, after everything he'd done? For less than a second the idea appealed to her. Taylor would appreciate the irony. The very thing she'd wanted, offered at last. She licked her bottom lip, and noticed Rocklin follow the gesture with his gaze.

Remembered the feel of his lips, his body crushing hers. The pain. The fear.

Thoughts of Taylor lying in the hospital, of Narain standing up for her, of Brad's kisses, even of Joanne's kindness, spiraled through her mind. No, she didn't want the break Rocklin was about to offer her. Oh, she wanted to get into a band, but on her terms. Not his. Not anyone else's. When she told him Taylor would laugh and say, “I told you so.” And she'd reply, “I'm doing what you told me to, Tay. I'm only trying to be me.”

But the offer never came. Rocklin only repeated, “You're a great drummer.”

“That's your idea of an apology?” Sid shook her head. “Well then, here's my version of an acceptance: I am good and I want you to walk out of here knowing that I'm the best thing that never happened to your band.”

He looked a little confused; his mother looked thoroughly insulted. Before the woman could respond, and she looked like she was going to, Brock showed them out.

Minutes later Wes walked in and took the chair she usually occupied. A grim-faced older version of him followed and stood beside the chair. Sid almost rolled her eyes. Great. Another over-protective parent. Brock closed the door and took position beside Sid. Like sides squaring off on a tennis court. A good thing her dad was outside; the room wasn't made for this many people and was really heating up.

“Do it,” Mr. Remichuk said. Sid could tell where Wes got his forcefulness.

Wes wrung his hands as if washing them. He definitely had that “caught in the cookie jar” look. Sid wondered if she should suggest he join the drama team. He glanced up, revealing bloodshot eyes, and quickly ducked his head again. “I treated you pretty bad, Sid.”

She waited. That was it? That was the big apology?

Mr. Remichuk flicked the back of Wes's hair. Wes flinched. “I... I had no right to hassle you like I did. The, the taunting stuff. And the video...” He rubbed his palms against his thighs. “I had no right... It was...”

He almost sounded sincere. He also sounded like an idiot. Sid decided to help him out. “It was...stupid? Cruel? Did you know I had to fight off a guy with a knee to his balls because of that video? Did you know that this apology might not do anything to stop that kind of jerk? Why
should
I accept your apology, Wesley? For that matter, have you even apologized for basically ruining my life?” He started to stammer. Sid said, “Apologies work better if you look the person in the eye, Wesley.”

Wes frowned and lifted his face. “I am sorry, okay, Sid? I mean really sorry. I'm knee-deep in shit because of this –”

“Yeah. That's the most honest thing you've said. You're in trouble so
now
you're sorry. Not because of what you did to me, but because of what's happening to you.”

Mr. Remichuk cleared his throat. “Now you listen, young lady –”

“No,” Brock said. “This is between them.”

Wes gave Brock a look that bordered on thankfulness. “I can't blame you for being angry, Sid. And I wouldn't blame you if you pushed it into court. What we did to you
was
crappy. I knew it then.” He stood. “If it means anything, I'd take it back if I could.” He walked out. His father followed.

Sweat trickled down the back of Sid's neck. “What did he mean, if I pushed it into court?”

Brock went to the door, whispered something and closed it. He took the student's chair, leaving Sid in his spot. She pulled her legs up against her chest and waited. He said, “The police explained the possible outcomes to the boys and their parents. There might not be enough evidence to charge Rocklin with sexual assault, but you could sue for defamation of character.”