Chapter 33

I saw Mr. Packer a couple times in the hall over the next few days, and I guess he did get the message, because the smile was gone and he was back to glowering at me. I hadn’t heard anything else from Mom, and surprisingly, nothing from Dad either. While I wasn’t exactly happy, I was willing to settle back into my routine and leave it alone if they were. Soon, I’d have to do something, but the only option I could think of would definitely be considered the nuclear option, and I didn’t want to go that far unless I really had no choice.

Wednesday, there was a somewhat pleasant distraction when Cameron’s article came out in the school paper, at least at first. The school put the papers out early that morning so kids could grab copies on their way into the school. They only published one a month, but it was always chaos for the first several classes that day. I’d wondered why they didn’t put them out at lunch, but I guess tradition ‘was what it was.’

I don’t even think it was the articles that people got excited over. You give that many teenagers that much extra paper and you’re guaranteed to end up with havoc as paper airplanes, trash can basketball, and spit wads consume everyone’s attention for at least a few hours.

Some people did read it, though, since I got stopped several times in the hall. Mostly they wanted to know about my brushes with famous people. They asked if I really was friends with Linda Chapman, if I’d really played on stage with Nightshade, and if I could swing them tickets to a Ronnie Ralston concert. I tried to downplay it as much as possible. I mean, I’d spoken to Ronnie for all of two minutes and, while I was friendly with Linda, I didn’t know if it was fair to call her a friend. I couldn’t just call her up and shoot the shit and I wasn’t hanging out at her house.

Still, celebrity is the most important thing in teenagers’ minds, after sex maybe, and the way Cameron had written about it, I was one step away, making me a celebrity by proxy. The weirdest part was when I went into math class and my teacher stopped me.

“Charlie, do you have a second?”

“Sure,” I said, heading over to her desk.

“I just read the article about you. Is it true you played with House of Grace and you’re friends with their lead singer? My sister loves them and it would be amazing if I could get an autographed picture or something from them.”

It was all I could do to not roll my eyes or let out an exasperated sigh.

“I opened for them this summer because we’re on the same label and their opener canceled at the last minute. I do know her, but we’re more of acquaintances. I don’t think I could be any more help getting her to sign something than anyone who goes to one of her concerts.”

I’d almost said ‘and it isn’t like I have her number,’ but that would have been a lie. I actually did have her number from the one time she called me, but I knew for a fact that letting that be known would be a huge mistake. She was nice and probably would sign something if I asked, but not only would that be a massively uncool move on my part, I didn’t want to waste the chance that she’d answer my call on something like that. I might need something in the future and she would be a lot less likely to answer a second time if I started calling and asking for autographs for other people.

“Ohh, I just thought you were friends by the way Cameron made it sound.”

“Yeah, that’s probably my fault,” I said, not wanting her to think Cameron was making stuff up. “I maybe got too excited about some of the stuff we did this summer.”

“Okay. That’s too bad, but I get it. Go ahead and take your seat.”

As soon as it was time for lunch, I dashed to the cafeteria, hovering about, looking for Cameron. As soon as I saw him I grabbed him by the arm and told him to follow me outside.

“What?” he asked when we finally stopped walking.

I made sure we had a decent amount of space between us and any other kids.

“You’re killing me,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“What do I mean? I mean the article. For one, it’s all about me and how great I am, which is going to make Marco have kittens. For another, everyone now thinks I’m buddy-buddy with celebrities. Do you know how many people have asked me if I can get them autographs, or tickets to shows, or a piece of someone’s clothing? Hell, I even had a teacher ask me if I could get an autograph. I thought we’d agreed you’d write about the band.”

“We did, but I had to change a lot of that after this weekend. You have to admit, that stuff with Nightshade was incredible. It would have been journalistic malpractice to not make that the highlight of the piece.”

“That’s great and all Bernstein of you, but did you have to blow the Ronnie Ralston thing so far out of proportion? I don’t think what happened could be called a ‘precious moment between performers’ or that she ‘gave her blessing to my career.’ I also think calling Linda Chapman a ‘close, personal friend’ was a massive overstatement.”

“Okay, so I took a little poetic license, but Ronnie did say she admired what you said about Nightshade’s guitarist and that she thought you could go far in your career. And Chapman helped you get your record contract.”

“She made some calls, but that doesn’t mean she’s going to be my best man one day. Seriously though, you’re killing me.”

“I’m sorry, I went a little overboard. It’s just, when the editor read it, he thought it was the best thing we’ve ever done. He actually asked if I could do more pieces on you, as you continue your career.”

“No. No way in hell. I like you Cameron, but I don’t want to be the subject of more articles and I definitely don’t want teachers asking me for autographs of famous people I may have met.”

“Isn’t the goal to be famous, though? I mean, once you make it, you’re going to have people writing about you all the time.”

“If that happens, at least I’ll have the money that goes along with it. Seriously though, it was okay this time, but it could have gotten really bad if Eli or Ronnie had said something in passing, when I met them, that they didn’t think would become general knowledge. That wasn’t an interview session and they weren’t expecting to have someone taking notes to put their words into a newspaper. Yeah, it might be a school newspaper for a small country town, but if it was really juicy, I guarantee word would have gotten out and it would be picked up by actual newspapers before long. That kind of thing never stays contained. If I do want to make it, I can’t start by alienating people I might need to work with in the future.”

“I can be more careful. Treat stuff as on the record or off the record, and not write about anything without approval.”

“Cameron, man, you’re killing me. I get this was good for you, and you’re probably getting pushed by your editor; but I thought you wanted to be a Broadway star. What’s with the sudden Jones for being a journalist.”

“I’m a realist, Charlie. Seeing you do your thing, your stage presence, and now seeing what goes on backstage, I realize I might not be as good as I think I am. I mean, I know I’m good now, but that’s in high school, compared to other kids my age. Everyone on Broadway was the best person in their high school. I’m not saying I’m giving up on my dream, but I need to be realistic about this.”

“I get it. It’s the same reason Mom wants me to go to college, and I sympathize, but not enough to let you make your high school journalistic name on my back. I’m sorry man. You know I’d do whatever I can to support you, but there’s got to be a line.”

“No, I get it. I appreciate you letting me follow you around. Maybe if you get some big news you could give it to me at the same time as you give it to the real newspapers, so I can at least break it here. That way I’m not following you around or anything, but still getting the inside scoop. That might be enough to keep my editor off my back.”

“I’ll do my best. I’m still beholden to the label, so I don’t have complete control over when or how things are released, but I’ll try and keep you in the mix as best as I can.”

“That’s fair. Thanks, man.”

“Sure. I’m still pissed at you, though,” I said, smiling so he knew I was joking.

“Get over it,” he said, getting a laugh out of both of us.

All the attention was a little annoying, but considering all the other stuff going on, it was a minor problem, but at least I’d nipped it in the bud before it became something major.

Thankfully, the commotion had more or less died down by Friday. High school was full of drama, but at least it was almost always short-lived since there was always something new happening to distract everyone.

While that was at least good news, my newest difficulty came that afternoon when I made it out to the parking lot to head to the Blue Ridge for training and to set up for that night’s show. I felt something was off when I was halfway across the parking lot, but it wasn’t until I was closer that I realized all four of my car’s side windows had been smashed out and the front and back windshields were cracked from impacts in multiple spots. There were also dents along the doors, like someone had taken a baseball bat to my car.

It wasn’t hard to guess who that someone was. It must have happened earlier in the day, because even Harry wasn’t stupid enough to do something like that with witnesses around, not after his previous attempts to screw me over had been ruined by someone seeing him do it.

I was furious. Yes, I’d threatened him and probably made him feel small, which could have been what escalated this, but it wasn’t like Harry had been hands-off before now. The only reason I’d threatened him at all was because of his constant antics. My first thought was to track him down and beat the crap out of him, but that wasn’t going to solve this situation. I also held off on calling a tow truck, but I obviously wasn’t going to be able to drive it, considering how messed up the front windshield was.

I texted Lyla to let her know I’d be late and that they should set up without me, and Chef to let him know what was happening, and then stopped to consider my options. Option one was to go into the school and report it. I knew from previous experiences they had cameras pointed at the parking lot, but I also knew they’d argue that they didn’t have any responsibility for what happened in the parking lot after school, and it was unlikely Mr. Packer would want to help me anyway.

Option two was to call the police. This was a crime, and I needed to report it, especially if I wanted insurance to cover replacing the windows. That meant involving Sydney’s father, also not my biggest fan. So far he hadn’t gone out of his way to actually cause me trouble, at least not how Mr. Packer had. He’d just bought into the BS that others were telling him and decided I was a troublemaker.

In the end, I went with option two. I needed a police report one way or the other, and there was always a chance a deputy would respond. I called the non-emergency number and reported the crime, and they said they’d dispatch someone to take a statement and make a report.

Surprisingly, I didn’t have to wait long. The reason for that was pretty obvious when I saw Sydney’s father behind the wheel of his patrol car. He must have seen my name or the school and decided to come deal with it himself. I knew this was a possibility and had almost gone to get Sydney so she could be here as an intermediary to keep her father from doing or saying anything rash, but decided against it. She had swim practice and they had a big meet coming up that she wanted to do well at, and I wasn’t sure she’d actually temper his response that much. Besides, I might have won her mother over, but he was still wildly against me dating his daughter, and shoving it in his face didn’t seem like it would be productive.

“What did you do?” he asked as soon as he stepped out of his cruiser, setting things off on exactly the tone I thought he would.

“Nothing. I got out of class, came out to the parking lot to leave, and found my car like this.”

“Was there anyone near the vehicle when you came out?”

“No, sir,” I said, hoping if I was very respectful and patient, maybe I could get him to be at least a little objective. “I have a good idea who did it. I’ve had trouble with a kid here at school, who has a history of attacking other students.”

“As do you,” he pointed out. “What exactly did you do to this kid?”

“I told him to leave Sydney alone after he made some threats to her and scared her.”

Of course, that wasn’t completely honest. My problems started way before I even met her and the only reason Harry had said anything to Sydney was because of me, but I hoped invoking his daughter’s name might at least get him to be less hostile to me.

“I see. And did you see him do this? Or did anyone else see him?”

“I don’t think so, but the school has cameras pointed out here at the parking lot. Whoever did it should be on those tapes. There are still people in the administration offices who could probably get them for you.”

“I see,” he said, but didn’t move, still looking over my car, although not actually going up to it.

The longer I waited, the more it seemed like he might not go look at the tape at all. I was starting to think he might tell me it was too bad and leave, but instead, he uncrossed his arms and turned to walk toward the school.

“Wait here,” he said over his shoulder, almost as an afterthought, as he walked away.

It seemed like an eternity passed. I still didn’t call for a tow truck, because I didn’t know how long this would take and didn’t want to pay the driver to sit around and wait for him to finish. After almost twenty minutes, he came back out, a frown on his face.

“Any luck?” I asked when he got to me.

“No. Apparently, that camera got broken by some kind of debris that flew into it this morning. The school already put out a repair order for it, but right now, you can’t see anything from it.”

Harry learned his lesson from the last time he and Aaron had ended up on video. If anything, I was the one who screwed up this time. I had underestimated Harry thinking he was an idiot, and didn’t figure he’d actually take more than the most obvious steps to get at me. I parked in the same place every day, making it very easy for him to take out one camera, especially since I parked at one corner of the lot, near the baseball fields, meaning he could throw a rock or something and break that camera without being seen by the other parking lot cameras. If I moved to different areas every day, he wouldn’t have been able to set this up, but I didn’t even consider he’d take steps to keep from being caught. I could have kicked myself.

“Is there anything I can do?” I asked.

“Not without witnesses or video. Even if there were fingerprints on your car, you’ve admitted to knowing this boy, so I’m betting there have been chances he might have touched your vehicle, explaining them, right?”

“Probably.”

It wasn’t like I washed my car often, and I was parked by the baseball field. It took me all of two seconds to think up several scenarios he could use to give an innocent explanation for fingerprints.

“I can write up a report stating your windows were broken by an unknown perpetrator and file a report, but nothing will ever come of it.”

“Can I get that, so I can give it to my insurance company?”

He didn’t say anything again for several seconds, and once again I thought he was about to say no.

“I guess,” he said with a shrug, going back to his patrol car.

While he did that, I called the town mechanic and he agreed to come out and fix it today or tomorrow. The good news was, he could replace the windows here in the parking lot, so I didn’t need to get it towed, which would save some money, but it was still going to be expensive to change out six windows, especially when two of them were front and rear windshields.

“You can’t drive that,” he said, pointing at my car.

“I know, I already called Emmett. He’s coming out tonight or tomorrow and replacing the windows here. I was going to go see if I could get a ride with Sydney.”

That last sentence slipped out of my mouth before I thought twice, once again showing how often I said stuff without thinking. I just thought that if her mom was picking her up, she liked me and was my best bet for a ride home. I knew Kat had her therapist appointment after swimming and didn’t want to get in the way of her treatment. Saying it to him, however, was a mistake.