Chapter 5 Lesson One

Drew shows up at my house just after I get home. He's dressed for work and I give him a big hug, I don't want to let him go.

“Hey sweetie.”

I start laughing, because he called me 'sweetie'. “I'm never going to get used to you calling me that.”

“Well I'm not going to stop. Sweetie.”

I check on Rae and Ben, they are watching TV, sitting on the floor, close to the screen. Drew and I go to my room and hang out. I tell him all about my guitar lessons. Then he hands me a piece of paper. It's a ticket to the concert.

“Really?”

He nods.

It was awesome. “I love you.” I said it. We were going on a concert together- weeks away, something Drew had planned and paid for my ticket and... it was just awesome.

We're cuddling on the bed when Beth comes in.

“Jemma!”

It's 6 o'clock already? Dang. Drew looks embarrassed- I can see him turning pink and looking down at the carpet.

“Nice 'babysitting'!” Beth is being sarcastic. “I find Rae and Ben two inches from the TV, no dinner made, the front door unlocked. What is wrong with you?”

So we're definitely not cuddling anymore, and Drew is about to leave for work. “Sorry.” He tells Beth.

“I don't want to hear it. How old are you? Shouldn't you be more responsible?” She's never yelled at Drew before- she must be really, really mad.

I still walk Drew to the door, what is Beth gonna do? I give him a quick kiss. “Call me later.”

Drew just runs out the door. Who's he scared of?

“What's wrong with you?” Beth yells.

“Nothing! Back off!”

“No! Don't talk to me like that! You have your two little cousins here, Rae has homework- dinner isn't ready. I was working all day, and I come home, thinking Rae and Ben are all alone. They might as well be, good a job as you did watching them.”

“And I'm not in school all day!?”

“I'm not discussing this with you. Make dinner, now.”
The fastest thing to make for dinner is grilled cheese sandwiches. Beth helps Rae with her homework while I grill the sandwiches. There are chips in the cabinet, and wa-la- a healthy dinner.

Beth won't talk to me-fine. I don't care. I call Erin and we talk, I tell her about the concert and we talk about boys.

“I'm going out tonight.” Says Beth. It's Friday, and she doesn't seem angry at me anymore.

“James in?”

“No. With some girls from work. So, you need to stay here with the kids. And I don't want Drew coming over. K?” She said the end

“Beth!”

“No.”
“But we aren't going to do anything!”
“No.”

Sucky. But Beth wasn't going to change her mind.

“I want you to help Rae with her homework.”

So that's my evening, homework and more homework and helping Rae with her homework. And Drew can't even come over after he's off work because Beth doesn't trust me.

Sunday. I meet up with my dad. His apartment is small without any decorations, but he's only lived here for two months. He talks about his new job, which he really likes. I guess there are younger guys he works with, because he tells me jokes and talks with slang. I bet he's the oldest guy there.

We have baked potatoes and steak, the steak is really good and he's so proud of himself.

“How is school?”

“Good.”

“Getting good grades?”

“I think so.” Okay, no. But I can lie to him, he can't ever tell the difference.

“Does your boyfriend have a car?”

“No.”

“Oh.” I ruined his chance to show off all he learned about cars now.

“He's still a decent guy?” Yeah, my dad was definitely working with younger guys, he never said 'decent'.

I laugh softly. “Yeah, dad. He's good.” Drew and my dad met once. It was awkward, but not too bad. Drew was really polite and when my dad went on and on about how special I am and how guys are supposed to treat women, Drew just smiled and agreed with him until my dad finally shut up. I don't care if my dad, who I only see twice a month, likes my boyfriend or not, but it's nice that he does.

Dad gives me twenty bucks and tells me to buy some clothes with it. I thank him and tell him to call again this week. I tell him for the seventh time that the steak was really good and he should keep making them.

I'm pretty good at finishing all my homework for this week. I'm almost caught up in all my classes. In math I'm doing really well and not too bad in science. English I might have to repeat, though. Mrs. Billings is hard and always wants my English papers to be perfect.

“Jemma.” She calls me to her desk after class. “Every one of your assignments has been late. That's an automatic five to ten point deduction. And then, with your grades for these papers, you're nearly failing this class.” She pulled out two of my recent papers, marked up with red ink.

I reach to take the graded papers.

“Some of your errors are really simple- spelling, basic grammatical errors.” She points to a few places as an example. “You'd be doing much better if you turned your assignments in on time, and double checked your work.”

“So, I spoke with Mr. Evans, and you are signed up for guitar lessons.” Randy tells me. He hands me a paper. It's for permission to be after school. Tuesdays at 4 pm.

“Do Tuesdays work for you?”

“Well...” What if it didn't? Damn, he just picked for me or what? But yeah, I guess Tuesdays were good.

“Sorry, it's just that that was the only time Mr. Evans had left.”

“Yeah, it works.”

“So, the lessons are an hour, in the music room. Do you know where it is?”

The room number was on the paper, it was in the Art and Music wing of the school. I'm sure I could find it. “Yeah, near the Art classes.”

We talk about school. I made up most of the homework, including from the days I missed. Randy had me talking about what I wanted 'in the future'. People in high school all want to hear that you are going to go to college, no matter what you say you're interested in, as long as you include college. Well, unless you say something totally unrealistic, like you want to be an actress or singer. So I say I want to go to a local college.

“What are you interested in studying?”
Actually, I don't even see myself going to college, I'm just saying this to keep you off my back. “I don't know, maybe something in science- biology.”

Randy buys it. I am sent back to Spanish class. We're learning the past-tense of Spanish verbs. Ugh. I should have had more issues for Randy and I to talk about.

It's Friday night, the fall dance. I don't really want to go, I'm fine with staying home, watching Rae and Ben so Beth can go out with James. Anyways, Drew can't come to the dance because he has to work. I wouldn't have had fun without him, only dancing with Patrick or Miles and Miles dances so dorky that I'm afraid he'll hit me in the face with the way he swings his arms. I'm better staying at home.

Rae and Ben stay up late, watching a movie. I make popcorn and when the movie's over, there is a mess of crunched popcorn in between the cushions of the couch. I carry Rae to bed because she already fell asleep and clean up the living room.

I hate the house like this- quiet late at night, so dead and dark. I turn on the kitchen lights to make the atmosphere change, but it's still too quiet. I turn the volume up on the television, but I don't pay attention to it.

The phone rings, sounding so loud in the quiet house. It's Steph. She said the dance was pretty lame and they left early- went to grab some tacos and hang out. Steph promised I didn't miss anything. Yeah, I'm sure it was dumb. Girls spend too much time dressing up, piling on make-up and dancing all raunchy. Stupid teenage stuff. Steph was probably right, we're too mature for that kind of thing.

Beth comes home by 1:00 am. She and James hardly say 'hello' to me before they head to Beth's room. Part of me wants to scream at her- yell at her because she said I couldn't bring Drew back here, and she brings James? It's not fair!

I don't say anything. I imagine just leaving, going to see Drew. But Beth wouldn't care, she would know to call Drew right away. And I know Drew would freak out if I just show up, he would think something was wrong. So, I sit in the empty, quiet living room for a little while, but no one is there to care how pissed off I am. Instead, I brush my teeth and put on my pajamas and go to bed.

Tuesday. After school I have twenty minutes, but then I meet with Mr. Evans to learn how to play guitar. Walk home, to Rae and Ben sitting on the front steps. I take them back to school with me, because Steph agreed to watch them while I have my guitar lesson. I hang out with Steph and Miles for a little bit. They tell me about the dance-off at the fall dance last weekend and this party on Friday that I 'just have to go to'. Steph says she's going to take the kids to the park to play, and I tell her I'll meet her there when I'm done my lesson.

I come back inside the school, there are a few students left, but mostly adults walking around. No one even asks me for my pass to be in school after hours. What a waste.

I find the room and try the door, it's not locked, so I let myself in. The music room has a low ceiling and strange walls- better for the sound, I guess. There are a few chairs left in the middle of the room, most are stacked against the wall. There are no decorations, it's the most bland room I've seen. How can they expect people to be creative and make music in a place this... boring?

Mr. Evans comes in after a few minutes, holding a guitar case.

“Jemma, right?”

I nod.

“Did I have you in class?”

“Last year.”
He opens the case and brings out a beautiful, wooden guitar from some popular brand that I think is a good one. “Did you bring your guitar?”

“I don't have one.” Dang it. Randy said it wouldn't matter.

“That won't be a problem, you can just use mine. And mine is already tuned!” He responds, cheerfully.

Mr. Evans doesn't waste time, but immediately grabs two chairs and shows me how to make a few different notes. He adjusts my fingers and tries to help me hear the difference between them.

“Now 'C'. Good. Now for 'G'? Oh- finger... there.” and so I'm learning. My fingers hurt by the end of the hour, from pushing against the wires. Mr. Evan's says that's normal and I will have callouses in no time.

“Do you have any guitar to practice on?”

I shake my head.

“Well, if you can find any way to practice- a friend, even asking one of the directors if they have an extra one you can use here at school, that would be best.”

“Do I need to have something here?”
“No, no. You can use mine for these lessons, but you should be practicing every day, too.”

Oh. That might be a problem.

The hour went by quickly, and I feel that I just got an over-load of information and finger positions. But Mr. Evans said I did good. I didn't expect to learn a song the first lesson, anyway.