Chapter 15

I got home that night, after stopping to check in with Warren and visit Willie, with a problem on my mind. After talking to Mr. Jensen, I went by to talk to some of my other teachers and get some kind of idea where my grades were at, and they definitely weren’t where they needed to be.

I wasn’t failing every class, but I wasn’t far from it either. It was still early in the school year, so it wasn’t irreversible, but it was a definite wake-up call that I needed to do something about my grades, and I needed to do it now. While it was easy to say I needed to start focusing on my homework and study more, actually doing it was easier said than done. I did, however, know exactly where to turn. I’d been in a similar place early in my sophomore year, when it had become apparent that my homeschooling hadn’t been up to snuff, and the solution now was the same as it had been then.

To call Kat.

“Hey you,” she answered, her voice bubbly and bright. “You’re really early.”

We spoke almost every night before we went to bed, when one of us would call somewhere between eleven and midnight, depending on who was calling it a night first. Sometimes it was a video chat and sometimes just a call, but since she’d moved into her dorm, we hadn’t missed a night yet. Mostly we caught each other up on what we’d done that day and just took time together, trying to make the long-distance relationship work.

Hanna would often tease us in the background, as we did the normal cringe couple things like demanding the other hang up first. In our defense, we hadn’t started using pet names, so I figured we were still successfully not becoming ‘that couple.’ Calls outside of our nighttime calls were less common, since our schedules were both full, and it was hard to know when one or the other was going to be busy, although we did text throughout the afternoon after I got out of school.

“Hey yourself,” I said, feeling a little less stressed simply from hearing her voice. “You sound like you’re in a good mood today.”

“I am. I absolutely schooled Deanna tonight. After that crap she was talking, they finally let us swim against each other. It was nice to shut her up for once,” she said.

Deanna was a junior on the swim team and had been the best swimmer on the team, at least before Kat got there. She wasn’t the team captain, that was a senior Kat got along with really well, but she’d pulled in a couple of bronze medals at the NCAA Division I Swimming and Diving Championships the year before. While it was an impressive feat, it was also a college-level national event and not even the largest of those. That was the USA Swimming National Championships, which she hadn’t qualified for apparently.

When Kat had shown up this year, there had been instant tension because Kat had qualified for the Olympics and would be the only girl from UNC competing internationally this year. Over the first few weeks, there’d been a few tearful phone calls from Kat, who was standing strong against Deanna’s comments and bullying, but she’d slowly managed to deal with it.

I hadn’t told her, but I actually thought the conflict might be good for her. Since she’d gotten emancipated and become part of our group, backing away from her old friends, she’d been shielded from a lot of the normal high school bullying. That was what she needed at the time, while she started working on her recovery, but where she was now, this added level of confrontation was helping her build up a thicker skin and learning the tools she needed to deal with the anxiety that came along with it.

“That’s awesome. See, I told you, she was just trying to get in your head. Ignore her and swim your own race, and no one can stop you.”

“Yeah. She tried to start some shit after practice, but Shawna shut her down. They’re already talking about putting me on the finishing leg of the relay for our meet against Georgia Tech in two weeks. Deanna was pissed since she’d held that spot last year.”

Shawna was the team captain, who clearly planned on using Kat to make sure her senior year ended with some victories. She’d already put Kat in basically every freestyle event they were going to swim, the only question remaining was where to best use her in the relays.

“So, I know you’ve probably got a lot going on, but I need some help,” I said, deciding I needed to get to the point.

“Of course, what’s up?” Kat asked, her tone immediately becoming concerned.

“I’m kind of in trouble with school. I got my history test back today and completely bombed it. Like, failed with a capital F. After class, Mr. Jensen asked to talk to me and said he was worried about my grades in general.”

“Ohh,” she said.

“Yeah, so after he pulled me aside, I went and talked to some of my other teachers to get an idea of where I stood overall ... and it’s not good. I’m failing most of my classes. The only ones I have a decent grade in are PE and orchestra.”

“Have you been keeping up with the routines we set up? The calendar and homework schedule? Studying your notes and the book for tests and quizzes like I showed you?”

This was Kat in her tutoring role. Even when she was gripped by her condition, whenever she switched into being a tutor, the anxious scared girl disappeared and out came the taskmaster ready to crack a ruler across your knuckles if she didn’t think you were applying yourself enough. Okay, there hadn’t actually been a ruler, but that wasn’t far off from how she got.

“Honestly ... not really,” I said, wincing a little, embarrassed by my answer. “I’ve tried, but between band practice, working with Warren to try and find gigs, and spending time with Willie, I’ve kinda let the schoolwork slide. I guess I didn’t realize how far I’d fallen behind until that test today. I’ve been so worried about how bad this summer was, and how we haven’t been able to get gigs for the band I haven’t been able to focus on anything else. Honestly, I’ve felt like I was failing everyone, and it’s all I’ve been able to focus on.”

“I get it, I really do. More than most people, I understand how anxiety and pressure can completely take over your thoughts. But like you’ve told me so many times, you still have to handle your responsibilities.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just been so hard to think about anything but getting the band back on track.”

“Have you actually been making progress at Warren’s though or are you just going there to feel like you’re doing something?”

I almost responded by saying ‘Of course I was making progress,’ but I stopped myself and actually considered the question. I knew I was helping, since there were only so many places Warren could call each day, trying to find out if they had spots for us, what they paid, and what metrics they needed from bands they booked. The problem was, I wasn’t actually sure there were any of them that would work out for us, no matter how many clubs we called.

It’s why we’d decided to give the audition for The Stage a try; to get the exposure we needed to make clubs actually big enough to travel to without going broke an option. Without that, it didn’t matter how many clubs Warren actually talked to, the answer was always going to be the same. The clubs that would accept us just didn’t pay enough to make the travel worth it, and the clubs that paid enough to make the travel worth it wouldn’t hire us. We were in a catch-22 scenario.

So really, my helping him make more calls wasn’t going to change anything.

“Honestly ... probably not,” I finally admitted.

“And if you stopped going over there so much, do you think Warren would somehow be making less progress?”

“No.”

“So maybe it’s best if you let Warren focus on doing what you pay him to do, and for you to make sure you’re meeting your own responsibilities.”

“It’s not just going to see Warren, though,” I said. “It’s also going to see Willie. I’ve been visiting him every day, either before or after I go to Warren’s, and I don’t want to have to stop doing that. I don’t know how much time he has left.”

“I know how important Willie is to you,” Kat said gently. “And I’m not saying you have to stop visiting him. But make sure you’re not giving up study time to do it. Willie would be so angry if he knew you were skipping schoolwork just to sit with him.”

She was right. Willie would be pissed if he knew I was skipping out on my responsibilities to be with him. Which really only made me want to spend more time with him. He was an amazing man and he always gave more to others than he asked for himself, but now, near the end, most of those people weren’t there for him. I know Dwight and the other members of his band stopped to see him regularly, and I knew Chef went out every other day or so, but for the most part, he was alone in his room for most of every day, too weak to get out of bed.

No one should have to go through that, but especially not someone like Willie, who gave so much to everyone else.

“But if I don’t go, he’s all alone,” I said.

“He’s not all alone. You’ve already said Keenan is there all the time and I know others are visiting. And I’m not saying you can’t go see him every day, but be smart about it. Go home and get some homework or studying done, visit him, and then get back home to study. Sophomore year you were doing baseball every afternoon, band practice, training with Chef, and still getting your homework done. Are you really spending more time with Willie than you did when you had all that going on?”

“No,” I admitted.

“I didn’t think so. I think the biggest problem isn’t your time management, it’s a loss of focus. You’re not making school a priority, and we’re seeing the result of that.”

“Maybe,” I said.

I was just being obstinate though. She was right, and I knew it.

“So where are you at now? Other than your homework, do you have any tests or quizzes coming up?”

“Mr. Jensen said I could take a makeup for the history test after school on Monday, and I’ve got a math test I’m nowhere near ready for.”

“Okay, tell me the sections you need to cover for each,” Kat instructed.

I pulled out my study guide for the last test and my books for each class, and read off the details of what each test was going to cover.

“Okay,” she said, almost absentmindedly, over the sound of her typing something in the background. “I’m going to email you a study plan I want you to follow over the weekend. Do the history stuff first. Then, if there’s time, switch to the math. Otherwise, do the math on Monday. I also want you to take pictures of all of your syllabuses and send them to me. I’m going to map out a study plan for each of your classes for the rest of the semester. I’m also going to add in some additional study materials I want you to do and send them to me, in addition to the work your teachers provide.”