Revenge Of A Band Geek Gone Bad (15 page)

"Are you serious?"  I stood up.  "I'm finally letting her know that she and her friends can't walk all over me.  Besides," I added.  "This whole thing was
your
idea, Josh, so stop being a hypocrite.  You're the one who pushed me and pushed me until
I did one of your stupid schemes.  So where do you get off telling me that I'm going overboard?"

"You're right," he said.  He also stood up and paced.  "I'll admit, when I first asked you to help me, I thought it would be fun to work with the 'good girl.'  I wanted to see how far you'd really go."  He sighed.  "But now I regret ever doing that, and I'm sorry.  I just wanted to have a little fun with Kathy and Francis; I
never
wanted you to get hurt."

"I'm not hurt," I told him, the words tumbling out, "but now that we've started this thing, I don't want to stop.  You've seen the way people are treating me.  I finally have some respect!"

"For now, yeah.
  But if you keep throwing things and hitting people, you'll definitely be an outcast."

I knew that what Josh was telling me made sense, but I didn't feel like listening.  Not then.  Not when I still had so much anger inside of me that I couldn't seem to get rid of.  "You know what?" I spat.  "Forget it.  Don't help me.  I'll just take care of Kathy myself."

He held up his hand.  "No ... don't do that," he muttered.

"Well, what other choice do I have?  If you're not going to do anything, I'll handle it.  Now I know I can." 

Josh exhaled.  "Know what?" he said softly.  "If you really want, I'll — I'll work on Kathy."  He closed his eyes for a moment.  "But I'm going to do it in a way that'll guarantee that you won't be connected to it."

I bounced on my heels.  "Great!  I owe you."

"But this is the last time," he said in a low voice.  "I'm serious.  After this, I'm cutting you off."

I ignored his final words.  "I can't wait!"  I shouted, pumping my fists.  "Kathy's going down!" 

CHAPTER 11

For the next few days, I pestered Josh about what kind of plan he had in store for Kathy.  He refused to tell me.  I wondered if he even
had
something lined up, or if he was just trying to hold me off until I gave up on getting revenge, but he assured me that I'd be very pleased with what he’d come up with.

But I had bigger things to worry about, namely our upcoming holiday recital.  Every December a few musicians from each section are chosen to play a solo for the event
;  Mr
. Francis asked me, Kathy and Maya to represent the flutes.

I was playing the first movement of a piece simply called "Sonata," by a French composer named Poulenc.  It's one of my favorites because it's really beautiful, but it's also really out there.  Don't get me wrong, I love playing music by Bach or Mozart, but that's the type of flute music that most people would
expect
to hear.  The Poulenc piece is different.  There are crazy jumps from low notes to high notes, and then it suddenly slows down to a haunting melody in the middle section.  It especially sounds great when the piano and flute play together.

Unfortunately, thanks to my suddenly busy social life, I hadn't worked on it nearly as much as I would've liked to
to
get it performance ready.  I hadn't even had a chance to practice with Mrs.
Bentz
, the pianist whom Sequoia High hired for the recital.  I was even beginning to wonder if I should find a way to get out of playing in front of everyone.

Mr. Francis then made an announcement at our next rehearsal.  "I have some wonderful news!" he boomed.  A grimace appeared on his face, but I realized that this was actually a smile.  "We're getting a special guest at the recital next week.  Dr. David
Chambourg
, who's the conductor and founder of the
Chambourg
Youth Orchestra, is an old friend of mine and is anxious to hear everyone play.  He's hoping that he can find a few musicians to include in his summer orchestra."

A murmur swept over the band.  The
Chambourg
Youth Orchestra is well known on Long Island.  Only the best high school musicians are chosen for it, and they play all over the U.S.  I'd even gone to see them once when they performed in Carnegie Hall.  I couldn't believe that Dr.
Chambourg
wanted to hear
us
.

"I told you it was a doozy," laughed Mr. Francis.  We all quieted down when he chuckled because it was such an unusual sound.  "But there's more."  He paused for effect.  "If any of you get chosen for this orchestra, it will be a paid job, $300 a week.  And you'll be traveling all over the place, to Los Angeles, Arizona, Washington D.C. ... even Alaska.  Like I said, it'll be one hell of an opportunity if any of you get this. 
If
," he repeated.  He resumed his normal frown.  "So I expect everyone I picked to do an absolutely flawless job!  No mess-ups.  I don't want to be
embarrassed; it won't be good for me or
you
."  He stared us down.

Mr. Francis ordered us to do a run-through of
Broadway
For The
Band
, but I was too excited to concentrate.  I
had
to get a slot in that orchestra.  This was my dream job.

###

"Ugh, I have so much to do," I told Josh as we rode home from school.  I hummed along to the rock song that was playing on the radio.  By now, I was becoming somewhat familiar with Josh's favorite tunes.  "I have to go over the first part of my piece and then work on some of the difficult parts in the middle, and then I have to listen to the piece a few times with the piano so I can make sure that it’s perfect, and then I have to polish my flute...."  I stopped rambling for a moment and caught my breath.  Josh smiled at me.

"You're going to do great," he said.  "I believe in you."

"But everyone else playing is so good," I argued.  "And I haven't been playing as much, but I didn't know that I would be getting this opportunity..."  I paused and looked at Josh.  "You know, it's not fair that you're not getting a chance to play at this recital and audition for this guy.  If he heard the way you can play, you'd definitely get in."

Josh shrugged.  "I like playing with the guys at the bar.  That's my thing.  But you," he said, pointing at me.  "You need to make sure you do well."

I noticed his eyes flash as he said this.  "Wait a second.  You're not planning to do something at the recital?"  I said slowly.  He didn't answer, but bit his lip to keep from laughing.  "You are
,
you are!"  I shouted.  "I knew it."

"I didn't say anything," he said.  "Now go practice.  I expect for you to kick some ass at this thing."

###

Lana helped me get ready for the big night.  Believe me, I needed it.  Between fretting about my solo, the plan and Dr.
Chambourg
, the last thing I could think about was what to wear.

Fortunately I had my fashion-obsessed friend to assist me.  Or in Lana's case, critique every article of clothing.  

"No offense, Mel, but your stuff is kind of blah," Lana complained, holding up my beige silk shirt.  She'd laid out several dresses on my bed and was eyeing them warily.  She, of course, looked flawless in a rose-colored cashmere sweater and blue
skirt.  To complete the look, she'd clipped her ringlets away from her face with a rhinestone barrette and wore a matching pin on her sweater.

"This could work," I said, taking the shirt from her. "It'll look nice with my black skirt." I eyed her pin.  "Maybe we can dress it up with some jewelry or something."

"I guess that's okay, but I've got a better idea," Lana suggested, smiling.  She pulled a red cocktail dress out of her duffel bag along with low red heels.  "Try this."

My mouth fell open.  "Are you kidding me?"  The dress was made of red satin and had a full skirt that flared out.  However, the top was fitted, sleeveless and extremely low cut.  No
way
was I squeezing myself into that thing.

"It's my mom's," Lana explained, grabbing a hanger and looping it over my bedroom door.  "She bought it a few years ago, but only wore it once. I doubt she could fit into it now."

“
I
can't fit into it!"  I reminded her.  Still, I couldn't resist pinching a bit of the fabric.  The satin felt so smooth between my fingers.

"Just try it," Lana insisted.  She looked me up and down.  "I'm pretty good at dressing people and you've lost weight, you know.  I have a good feeling about this one."

"I don't know..." I hedged.  Even if it did fit, I wasn't sure that red was my color.  And then my flabby arms would be sticking out like sausages, and my marshmallow-like boobs would be waving “hello” to the world.  Lana could pull off red and skimpy.  I was more of a well, beige and covered up-kind-of-girl.

"Look, the worst that can happen is that it doesn't fit," she said.  "And if that's the case, we'll go with the other outfit."  She made a face as she said this.  "But if this does work..."  She grabbed the dress and dangled it in front of me.  "Can you imagine Josh's reaction?  Think of his face as his eyes pop
completely
out of his head!"

Yeah, especially if other things pop out, I thought.

Lana thrust it at me.  "Go on.  Try it already."

"Okay, okay," I said, laughing.  "Let's see the damage."

###

It fit.  Not only did it fit, I looked nice.  Hot even.  The full skirt camouflaged my enormous thighs and butt.  The bodice perfectly emphasized my rather sizeable
chest, but in a good way, and the cut somehow made me look thin!  I twirled around and around in front of my mirror, the grin never leaving my face.

"You.
  Look. 
Amazing
," Lana said, standing back to examine her
handywork
. 
"Seriously.
  You're a goddess. You're going to knock everyone dead tonight."

"I can't believe it," I said, turning once again to admire my reflection.  "You're a genius, Lana!"

"I know, I know," she said, taking a bow.  "But honestly, I didn't have to do much.  You've always been cute."

I frowned.  "The only reason I look remotely okay is because I've lost some weight.  I still have so much to go."

Lana sighed.  "Mel, Mel, Mel,
how
many times do I have to tell you, you were
not
fat before.  Trust me, even if you were still a Size 12, you'd look just as good."

"What size is this?" I asked.

She smiled. 
"A 10.
  Satisfied?"

I nodded, not quite believing it. 
"Yeah!"

###

After Lana finished my hair (which she curled for me), jewelry (she let me borrow her pin for the evening) and makeup (which made me look like a hooker, but I kept my mouth shut), we went downstairs to wait for Josh.  Since my dad had to work and my mom had a performance of her own, Josh was driving me to the recital.  I was glad, though, that he and Lana were so willing to step in as my "family" for the evening.

"Thanks for bringing this outfit," I said to Lana as we wriggled into our coats.  "I love it."

She shrugged. "Hey, I can't call myself your friend if I let you go out looking like a librarian when you're about to see your Dream Boy."

"If Josh likes me as more than a friend, I hope he's into more than just my looks," I said, dabbing at my cheeks in an attempt to wipe away some of the blush.  "Otherwise, I'm screwed."

Lana grabbed my hand to stop me from ruining her makeup job.  "I
think he's into you."

"I hope so.”

"Oh, come on," she reminded me, "look at how he took care of you at Thanksgiving.  No offense, Mel, I love you, but I
never
would've entered the crossfire of the War
Of The
Rhodeses
.  What he did for you was just totally sweet."  She sighed.  "I wish I had a nice guy in my life."

"You will," I assured her.  I patted her arm.  "You've never had trouble finding one before."

"Yeah, but now I'm always afraid that guys are only asking me out because of what
he
told them."  She frowned.  "You're so
lucky
, Mel."

"I know."  I smiled.  "Josh really is my best friend. 
After you, of course."

"Damn straight he comes after me.  You don't see him here letting you borrow
his
dress."

As Lana stood next to me, I was overcome by a wave of love and gratitude.  I really
was
lucky.  Sure, I wasn't popular, but not that many people had friends who were so caring.  I reached out and impulsively hugged her.

"Hey, watch the hair!" she cried, backing away.  "What was that for?"

"I just want to thank you so much for being with me tonight," I told her.  "I know we haven't spent much time together, but you're still important to me.  And I appreciate you taking care of me."