Chapter 29: March 5

[Author’s note: This chapter has its roots in the events of “Abby’s Blackmail Attempt” and its alternate take, “Abby the Flute Girl.” In both stories, Abby was trying to blackmail John’s father, Billy, because she had seen him fucking her mother, Linda. Billy gave her the fucking she’d demanded but turned the tables on her by telling her it was all on video so she couldn’t lie about it. He also lectured her about being such a bitch to people. As you’ll see in this chapter, the message got through.]

March 5

I was in the band room for our regular Thursday afternoon Concert Band rehearsal, working on getting my lips and my horn warmed up and not really paying attention to the rest of the room. It’s so noisy when the whole band is warming up that you can’t really hear your own instrument, so I tend to shut my eyes so I can concentrate. Yeah, it seems strange to close your eyes to block out the noise, but it actually does help.

So, there I was, making all those moose calls that French Horns have to make in order to warm up, when somebody tapped me on the shoulder. When I look up, I’m looking right into Abby Kowalski’s bright green eyes. ‘What the heck does she want?’ I’m asking myself. I’m suspicious, as you might guess. Abby and I don’t run in the same circles and she’s never been nice to me.

“What do want, Abby?” I asked. I’m sure it didn’t sound friendly. It really wasn’t meant to be.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” she yelled above the noise.

“Go right ahead,” I yelled back.

“Not here,” she said. “It’s kind of private. Out in the hall?”

Great, a ‘kind of private’ talk with Abby Kowalski and I’d left my cup in my gym locker. Oh, well, I may as well die and get it over with.

I glanced at the clock. “Make it quick. Band practice starts in ten.” I said.

“It won’t take that long,” she replied. I left my horn on my chair and followed her out into the hallway.

Once we were in the hall, Abby looked nervous. That was absolutely out of character for her. Abby was always poised and regal. A bitch, yes, but a regal bitch all the same.

“I’m just going to come right out with this, John,” she said. “I want to apologize for being a total bitch.”

“Okay...” I drawled. “What brought this on?”

“That’s not important,” Abby said. “Let’s just say it was hammered home to me that I was acting like a spoiled princess and given some big reasons to change my behavior. I’m starting by apologizing to people. I apologize, John. I treated you like shit because you were a freshman. There wasn’t any reason for that and I’m sorry. As a fellow band member, I should have been polite even if I didn’t like you, but I was a jerk and didn’t even know you. I’m sorry.” There were tears in her eyes by the time she got through that little speech.

Wow. That was a lot to take in. Part of my brain tried to remember when Ash Wednesday was and had the skeptical thought that maybe she was giving up being an asshole for Lent or something, but I’m a nicer person than that, so all I could do was say, “Apology accepted, but why me specifically?”

“Remember back in the fall when I got all snotty in the parking lot when you and, um, Katie isn’t it, were moving the tympani off the field?”

“I remember that,” I said.

“I had no right. I know those things are heavy. Mr. J. had the flutes help the pit move a few times when I was a freshman. It’s hard work. You were helping Katie, and I found out later that you were doing it without anyone asking, and all I could do was flip you off for being in my way. You were being a nice guy and didn’t deserve the way I treated you.”