Only the Good Die Young

Chapter 35.1

Word of the trial spread like a virus. Kyle promised he wouldn't tell anyone so Alex must be responsible. Or Stacy's MySpace account.

"You have to be there in twenty minutes, Rebecca," says Mom, sitting on the sofa in our apartment, sipping a glass of white wine. She's had more to drink since we moved to Vancouver than she's had in her entire life.

"It's not my fault," I say, almost snapping at her. "Besides, we're driving."

The Vancouver School Board launched an investigation into what happened at Whistler and whether or not Mr. McKinnon could have prevented it. Mom wanted him dismissed, too, for being so negligent that kids from her school could have sex while on a field trip under his supervision, but after much begging and pleading from me she relented. Kyle collected a petition of student signatures, which helped. The school board found Mr. McKinnon wasn't to blame. The Yellow Jackets reformed, and the Queen Elizabeth Year End Concert starts in two hours. Kyle and I promised to help set up because he wants to make sure Isabelle sounds her best. I just want my mind occupied. Kyle lent Annie's brother his amplifier, so I'm stuck waiting for Kyle who's waiting for Annie. At least I don't have to walk.

"It's a shame you don't have your license," says Mom. "Otherwise you could just take my car."

"Look, he'll be here on time," I growl "Annie's just running late. Deal with it."

I expected things to get better after the trial, but they got worse. Mom wanted to have Jesse expelled, but it would have been in violation of the court order. He transferred to another school, pending his appeal.

"That's no way to speak to your mother," says Mom. "Honestly, you're so irritable these days."

"I'm sorry," I say. I'm not. I pace back and forth impatiently.

"Something's obviously bothering you," says Mom.

No fucking kidding, Mom. What it could be?

"I'm just nervous about the concert," I lie. I lie about everything now. My marks have never been lower but Mom thinks they've never been higher. Mom thinks I'm a hero and am getting ever more popular. But no one speaks to me now, just Kyle and occasionally Alex. She's finally my friend, and I only had to perjure myself to do it.

I refuse to ride in the car with Mom anymore. I've told her that walking will help me lose weight. It's a half-truth. The other half is that I can't stand to see her face.

"You'll be fine, dear," says Mom. She pats my hand soothingly. I pull it away. "Have you practiced?"

"Of course," I say, flatly. Another lie. My playing sounds like shit because I refuse to practice and sight-read all the music Mr. McKinnon gives me. Once July is over I'm selling my keyboard. A three-line classified ad in the Vancouver Sun that runs for a week costs only sixty dollars.

There's a knock at the door and I race to get it. Kyle stands in the hallway, Isabelle in hand. He looks unsure if he should enter.

"Good to see you again, Kyle," says Mom. What a load of shit. She doesn't care about Kyle one way or the other. She just wants to make sure I don't run off to see Jesse. Like I would. She's so out of touch.

"Let's go," I demand. "We don't want to be late."

"Rebecca," says Mom, coming to the door, "let the poor boy sit down for a moment. You're not a good host."

"You're not a good mother," I say under my breath.

Mom ushers Kyle to the sofa and offers him a drink, but because Diet Coke isn't on the menu, he politely declines.