Chapter 1:

 

You Were So Quick to Judge…

 

 

“Hey, Jay!” Brian called, kicking at my shoe.  “We’re on, ya know?  Don’t ya even wanna watch and see how we did?” 

 

I kept my eyes shut, resting my head on my bag as far away from the TV as I could get.  “Rok?  Why would I wanna WATCH our performance?  I was there, remember?  The whole school got to see my suck-ass version of breath-control,” I snapped.  I knew I was being a jerk, and Brian had every right to feel happy with his performance . . .Mine on the other hand was enough to clear the auditorium.

 

It was one of the first days after winter break, and someone had finally brought in a tape of our holiday concert.  I, for one, wasn’t feeling very festive especially since the tape featured me making an ass out of myself in front of the audience.  Performing was in my blood, and disappointing people was not my style.  It ticked me off how Brian and the other guys were so bent on all of us (and the rest of the class) watching the damn thing and seeing the crappiness that was Alex McLean.

 

Brian walked away—I heard his footsteps going.  Inside, I was sorta glad he was away from me now.  I felt like shit and I didn’t wanna be in class.  I was sore everywhere—mainly my back and stomach—, which made lying on the floor not real comfortable. I just wanted to go home and be in bed, away from light, away from choir, away from stupid loud people.

 

I felt someone standing over me, but ignored it until whoever it was tapped my shoulder.  I flinched hard.  “Touch me again and your ass is grass,” I growled.

 

“Alex?  You okay?”  It just HAD to be Howie.  My day was getting better all the time! 

 

I squinted and saw him standing there, looking at me all concerned.  “Sorry,” I mumbled, feeling like bigger shit that I’d cussed out my best friend.

 

“Are you all right?” he asked again.  That’s one thing that annoyed me about D. sometimes, he just didn’t take a hint.  I shut my eyes again.  I heard a chair scrape the carpet and sighed.  Now Howie was gonna baby sit me.

 

“D, why don’t you go watch TV?  That’s us, hear how flat I am?” I tried to joke.  Howie didn’t move.

 

“You hurt, huh?” he asked not giving up.  The dude was relentless.

 

“No shit,” I said coldly.  Why did he think he needed to be so parental all the damn time? 

 

Then he left.  And I laid there like the ass that I was.

 

Next thing I heard was the bell—I guess I must have fallen asleep once everyone stopped poking me and standing by me.  I dragged myself off the floor and picked up my bag.  I didn’t see the guys and I figured they were waiting for me in the cafeteria.  Or maybe they all split once Brian and Howie told ‘em that I was giving them shit.

 

I tossed my bag over my back and right away I knew it was a mistake.  I gasped at the sudden burst of pain that went through me.  Disgusted, I tossed the huge-ass thing on the floor, and glared at it.  Idiot, bag!  What the hell am I gonna do now? 

 

“What are you doing?” a voice interrupted.

 

I glanced up to see Erin, a very fine blonde-haired girl staring at me questioningly.  “Nothing. How’s it going?” I asked, trying to ignore the pain that wouldn’t leave and focus on her.

 

“You know, Alex,” she said, acting like I hadn’t asked anything.  It sounded condescending and I braced myself.  “I know you’ve been through a lot and everything, but you ARE still a part of this group,” she waited, expecting something.

 

“I—I know that,” I stammered, unsure of what she was getting at.

 

“So why would you lay over there all hour and not even come over the entire time, not even when your ensemble came on?  I heard what you said to Brian.  The whole choir doesn’t revolve around you and whether or not you SOUND good!  You’re not any better than us Alex!  Stop being so cocky and show some support.”  Erin turned on her heel and left me standing there.

 

Kind of in a daze, I walked outside and noticed Howie waiting at a table for me.  The other guys must’ve headed to class already.  I sat down heavily on a stool near him, glancing around me.

 

“Where’s your bag?”  He eyed my back as I sat awkwardly, half-crouched.  Howie knew I wore it everywhere.  I felt safer that way.

 

I pointed back to the choir room, and Howie got up to get it; no hassle, no nothing.  He just got up.  “Hey, D,” I called before he got too far.

 

“Yeah?”  He must’ve noticed I looked weird or something, ‘cause he came back a few steps.

 

“Am I, uh, doing it again?” I asked the question softly hoping Erin or anyone else wouldn’t hear it.

 

Howie’s brow creased and he sat down, raising an eyebrow before he rested a hand on my shoulder.  “What do you mean?  Are you doing what again?” 

 

My stomach turned over as I glanced briefly at Howie and tried one more time to make him get it.  “Am I b-being how I was before?” I pressed.  And the word he needed to hear seemed to stick in my throat.  I forced it out quickly, flinching.  “Am I being . . .arrogant.  Like before?”

 

In a second, he understood.  Howie always understood.  His eyes got sad and he just kind of sat there a minute.  I knew he was thinking about what he was gonna say next.  Howie always thought things through.  I’m not like that.  I’m just impulsive.

 

“No, hermanito.”  I relaxed a little bit.  I knew I couldn’t be in any trouble if Howie was doing the Spanish thing.  I only knew basic stuff and certain cuss words that he taught me in a moment of insanity.  I’m sure he’s sorry he did it now.  “Alex, you’re not.  Okay?  You’re not out of line in any way; you’re just hurt.  I get that.  You’re fine.  Nothing’s gonna go down,” he said calmly.

 

I nodded, but felt only kind of better.  I knew what could happen if I didn’t watch myself closer.  I blinked back hard as tears came to my eyes.  The pain was here.  All of it.

 

Howie came out with my bag over one shoulder and his on the other.  I motioned for my own, gritting my teeth.

 

“I got it, Jay.”  He looked at me warily.

 

I grabbed it from him and put it on before I could think about it.  Pain radiated from the weight of three textbooks resting on my sore back.  I mentally cursed myself for being such a whiny-ass kid and adjusted the straps, determined to make it.

 

I wasn’t a kid.  Not anymore.