Playing by Ear - Cover

Playing by Ear

Copyright© 2021 by Lumpy

Chapter 35

By Friday, I was starting to get concerned about Rhonda despite what I’d said to Hanna. She hadn’t been to school the rest of the week and I’d started hearing rumors that she was changing schools. I may have been pissed at her, but this had all gone way too far.

What’s worse, her friends had abandoned her instantly. I’d seen Camilla sitting with Aaron’s friends a couple of times, and could only imagine how she’d played into the whole thing, but had no doubt she’d found a way to help take Rhonda down and become queen of their little group.

My schedule was too tight on Friday, but I’d convinced a very skeptical Hanna to give me a ride to Rhonda’s house Saturday morning and wait outside for me. To say Hanna hadn’t been on board would have been an understatement, since she thought I was going to do something stupid, like trying to get back together with her.

I honestly wasn’t sure what Hanna wanted from me either. One day she tells me I should have more sympathy for Rhonda when her bad choices come back home and the next she’s saying I’m making a mistake by trying to help Rhonda.

“Is Rhonda here?” I asked when her mother answered the door.

We’d seen each other in passing a couple of times when I’d picked Rhonda up or dropped her off, but we hadn’t actually spoken until now.

“I don’t think she wants to see you.”

“I get that, but she’s had it tough and I got the impression no one from school was talking to her, and I thought she could use a friend. I promise I’m not here to cause problems.”

Her mom looked at me hard, probably trying to figure out if it was worth chancing it, before stepping back and letting me in.

“Wait down here; let me see if she’ll see you.”

I nodded and waited, looking around. Even after dating Rhonda for a couple of months, I’d never been in her house. It was nice without too much stuff scattered around. Not quite minimalist, but very well put together. I didn’t actually know much about her parents and didn’t know if her mom worked or stayed home, but the house was really tidy.

I didn’t wander, just turning around, looking this way and that. After a couple of minutes, Rhonda’s mother came back downstairs.

“You can go up and talk to her, first room on the left. Please leave the door open.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thanks.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, crossing her arms and watching me walk up the stairs.

I clearly didn’t have a fan and was just glad she hadn’t booted me out. Rhonda’s room was pink. Very pink, with a bed against one wall, next to a window, and a little white desk against the opposite wall. At first, I thought maybe I’d made the wrong turn, since I didn’t see anyone, until I noticed Rhonda in bed, her covers pulled up over her until just a little bit of her head showed, barely exposing her eyes.

“Come to gloat?” she said from under her covers.

“Rhonda, you know me better than that. I came to see if you were okay.”

“I’m not okay. Did you see those pictures? Everyone’s seen them. It’s awful.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry. Has your mom talked to the school? You’re a minor, so maybe you can get them back?”

I pulled out the chair at her desk and turned it around, so I could sit facing her.

“She has, and Aaron was suspended. They can’t do more, because they can’t prove he’s where they got it, but he mouthed off when the vice-principal asked him about it. Or at least that’s what I heard. They’ve gotten them deleted out of the school email system and chat group, and warned anyone caught with them they’ll call the police if they see the pictures, but people still have them.”

“Are you sure they do?”

“Yes. Camilla said everyone printed them out and is handing them around.”

“Is there a chance Camilla’s just trying to take advantage of the situation? She’s managed to make herself head of your little group, and I saw her with some of Aaron’s crew yesterday. It seems just like her. Besides, I haven’t seen anyone passing around pictures.”

“Maybe, but you wouldn’t see them, would you? It’s not like they’d show you.”

“Think about it. The school made a big deal of getting those pictures wiped off of their servers and even contacted the chat boards to have them delete them too and then sent a message to every student warning about what would happen if they were caught with them. Not even Aaron is dumb enough to miss that. Do you think they’d then start printing out copies and carrying them around school? They’re cruel, but they’re not stupid.”

“I guess,” she said, then paused. “I’m so stupid.”

“Yeah, but that’s what high school is for, right? You’re not the first person to have pictures they didn’t want show up, and they lived. A few months and someone else will do something dumb and they’ll be onto that.”

“I don’t know.”

“I do. Is anyone talking about Hanna’s pictures? They weren’t that much different than the ones of you. It’ll go away.”

“Why did I let him take those pictures? Why did I even get with him at all?”

“Do you really want the answer to that question?”

“No ... yes.”

“You wanted to be popular. The entire time we were together, it’s all you really wanted. It’s why I was surprised you agreed to go out with me, since my problems with Aaron guaranteed I’d never be popular. I think it might be the only thing you really wanted.”

“Doesn’t everyone want to be popular?”

“Sure, but it’s what they’re willing to do to get it. I’m sure there are people who get popular while being friends with everyone, but that’s hard. I wouldn’t have a clue how to go about it. It’s easier to get it by knocking other people down. That’s how Aaron and his friends do it.”

“You really think I do that?”

“I do. You should think about how you and the rest of your friends acted. I listened to you. Every conversation was about ridiculing this person or talking about how that person was worthless. When Camilla told stories about whatever petty stuff she’d done that day, you’d all laugh. Rhonda, I care about you, so I want you to know that I’m not trying to make you feel bad, but I think it’s time someone told you the truth.”

“What’s the truth? That I’m shallow? That I only care what others think about me? If I’m so terrible, why’d you even go out with me?”

“Because there’s a great girl underneath that. When we were away from your friends, you were different. You have a good heart, if you can get past your need to make yourself better than everyone else.”

“How do I do that?”

“Get rid of those friends of yours. You’ve seen what they really are. People like that are toxic and they bring out your worst parts.”

She didn’t respond right away, falling silent except for the occasional sniffle. I wasn’t sure if I should go or not, or if I’d helped at all. This might not have been the time to confront her with who she’d been, but she needed to hear it. If she just went back to being that shallow girl I’d met at the beginning of the year, she’d never get past this. Or, if she did, she’d just become an even worse version of herself.

I was about to get up and leave when she finally said, “Would you take me back?”

“No,” I said without hesitation.

She began to cry again, wracking sobs partially smothered by her blanket drowning out anything I would have said after that. I waited for her to get it out of her system. She had to know that was what I would say, and I think she was feeling sorry for herself now, more than anything.

“Rhonda,” I continued when she’d finally stopped crying. “I’m sorry that makes you feel bad, but I won’t take you back just to make you feel better. It hurt me. I’ve managed to get past being pissed at you but I won’t ever forget it. Any chance for us ended when you kissed him. I’ll still be your friend, if you want me to, but that’s all.”

“Please just leave,” she said, starting to cry again.

I got up and started to walk out before pausing at the door to her room, “Don’t let them win. You can either run away and let this take over your life, or you can come back and fight past it. Not running away might be harder, but I think it’s time you stopped trying to take the easy way to stuff. You’ll get more out of it, in the long run. And I meant what I said about being your friend. Just ... think about it.”

It was Thanksgiving week, so school was out for the week, meaning there was no way to know what Rhonda would do, at least until school was back. I put Rhonda out of my mind for now. I’d done everything I could do, probably more than I should have done. My conscience was clear, whichever way she chose to go.

The restaurant was busy leading up to the holiday and Chef had me come back in the kitchen to help. While he was closed on Thanksgiving, he was still slammed with work. He sold orders for full thanksgiving meals with a turkey and all the sides that people could pick up before noon on Thanksgiving, and a lot of the town took him up on it.

By Wednesday, he had almost a hundred orders for full thanksgiving meals plus a bunch of smaller orders for various side dishes. He didn’t have time to teach me anything, which was probably best since I would go back to not being in the kitchen again as soon as the holiday was over, but there was still plenty for me to do.

Wednesday night a truck pulled in packed with supplies, including a mountain of turkeys. I’d always thought the walk-in cooler at the Blue Ridge was ridiculously large, but now it seemed almost too small. Both Hanna and I’d agreed to work through the night with him, since the turkeys would take most of the night to cook and be ready for the people to pick up.

Despite all the work we had to do, prepping vegetables, preparing pans of stuffing, and peeling potatoes so the kitchen crew could start knocking out sides in the morning, we had a blast. Chef had offered roast or smoked turkeys, and he’d turned the back area behind the restaurant into its own outdoor kitchen, even putting up a big tent to keep everything covered in case it rained.

Smoked turkeys had been his biggest item and accounted for more than two-thirds of the orders, which was good because the ovens couldn’t hold all that many. He’d rented in these huge smokers that could cook more than a dozen turkeys each, and had them trucked in early that morning. By midnight, the entire area smelled like mesquite. I’d foolishly thought that smoking the turkeys made it easy, since all we had to do was put them in and let them go, but there was a lot more work to do with them, and Chef left most of that to me. I had to regularly add wood from these giant piles he’d had delivered, so the smoke could stay even all night, as well as occasionally opening them up and basting them, to make sure the meat stayed moist. By the time the sun came up, smoke had permeated every bit of my clothes and hair, and I was fairly certain I’d smell like wood smoke for the rest of my life.

Hanna and Chef had created mounds of chopped onions and celery and carrots, dozens of trays of stuffing and yams, and what seemed like hundreds of peeled potatoes soaking in buckets of water.

“Good work, you two! Vinney and the rest should be here any time, and they’ll take over from here. I know you’re beat, but we’ll need you both back in about five hours. If you want, you can go up to my apartment and take a nap, and I’ll come get you when we need you to help pack everything up.”

“I should call my mom,” I said, groggily.

I’d had a good night, talking with Hanna and Chef, telling jokes and just messing around as much as we’d worked, but he was right, I was completely beat.

“I already talked to her. Both of your mothers will be here around one, and we’re all going to have Thanksgiving here, together. I made sure we made a little extra of everything for us to have once we’re all done.”

“Ohh, that’s cool,” I said.

I’d been smelling the turkeys smoking all night, and I couldn’t wait to eat one. Hanna and I trooped upstairs and I fell onto Chef’s couch. I think Hanna might have said something, but I didn’t hear it. I was fast asleep almost as soon as my head hit the couch cushion.

It seemed like I’d just closed my eyes when I felt someone pushing me hard, rocking me back and forth.

“What?” I managed to say, my brains till fogged.

“Chef called, said he needed us back downstairs.

“Gahh,” I said, as I turned to look at her only to catch a glimpse of the bright mid-day sun through the window.

“Come on,” she said, grabbing my wrists and pulling. “I’m tired too, but we’re almost done.”

“Fine ... fine.”

Every part of me felt sour and all I really wanted to do was lay back down, but I got up and followed Hanna back downstairs. The kitchen was a madhouse when we walked inside.

We pitched in, helping to get stuff packed up. Chef had a whole list and set everyone up as an assembly line. It actually didn’t take as long as I thought it would and by ten, everything was packed and ready to be picked up. All that was left from there was handing them out to customers as they arrived, which let most of the kitchen staff go home for the day.

I was still really tired from the all-nighter, but we were having a blast. It actually felt good, putting all the craziness of the week before behind me, just spending time with friends. I finally stepped away when Mom walked through the front door.

“Hey,” I said, coming around the table where we’d had the last customer’s dishes set. I made it to the front door while she was still looking around.

“So this is where you’ve been spending all your time?” she asked as I came up to her.

“Yep, this is it. We’re almost done. Chef just went to call the people who haven’t made it to pick up their stuff.”

“It was nice of him to invite us to Thanksgiving. I don’t mind cooking it, but not having the cleanup is certainly nice.”

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