September 5th 2011
Never had I seen the school so sombre. Dragging my feet up the stairs, I tried to ignore the heavy silence, as people watched me pass. No bright laughter of reunited friends rang in my wake, no happy 'how was your summer?', just…emptiness.
Kicking a stray stone, I gripped the strap for my bag tighter, frowning at my feet. The last three weeks had had the same feeling. With her…gone…it was like all the warmth and life had been sapped from the town. Vigils for her passing had been held, the story making front page news of our community newspaper. Visiting her Gram hadn't even led to some rest from the media, with one of us always having to shoo off some reporter. Her Gram had been a mess. Hands shaking as she held her teacups, recounting stories of happier times before bursting into tears. That was easy to comfort. The worse days was when she just sat in the backyard, lost and pale, clutching something of Olivia's. I always felt useless on those days. How do you comfort someone who has lost the last of their family? And at such an age? Mum encouraged me to visit Mrs White but also to know when to step back and let her grieve. It's a lot harder than expected.
Olivia's dad was refusing to see anyone.
Raising my sights a little, I caught the fleeting looks of sympathy on lookers were flashing. Stopping to meet their gaze properly, I questioned how they flinched and turned away apologetically. It didn't feel right. This new school year was supposed to be a victorious return. We were supposed to be mobbed with screaming fans, and fighting our way through crowds as we signed autographs, not watching as they parted like the Red Sea as we arrived.
Separately.
Bitterly.
Huffing I shrugged my bag higher, my stomach sore. I hadn't seen the gang since the funeral, keeping to our word to mourn separately for now. The separation was difficult, and I didn't think I'd be able to settle this discomfort until I was them again. Stella had messaged us all the night before, saying she missed our faces and wanted to meet up. While I was more than eager to, I wasn't sure about the others. The grieving process is different for everyone, or so mum had explained. While some want to kick and punch their anger out, others tend to curl up in dark corners and reflect. Though there are a few whom-
"Charlie!"
Grunting at the sudden tackle hug, I tried to regain my balance as I looked down at my attacker. Stella's hair tickled my nose as she rubbed her face into my chest, mumbling about how much she missed me. I squeezed her back tightly, burying my face in her hair as I returned her murmurings. We stood there for a while I think, taking comfort in one another as the world crept by, allowing us our moment. But of course, Stella has a reputation to maintain, so she pulled away as suddenly as she had arrived to slug me in the arm.
"Well ol' boy I'm surprised you managed to get to school early enough without me! So what your mum do? Ice bucket? Feather and cream? The bullhorn? Come on, what trick she do?
-there are those who hide their grief with humour.
"I'm not saying." I mutter bitterly, rubbing the dead spot on my arm. "And I can get up for school on time...occasionally."
Her grin didn't fully reach her eyes, but she laughed good heartedly. "Sure ya did. Now come on! I want to see if the others are here yet! I've missed you all and I want the goss from the last few weeks. Has Tryon still been picking on you? Is Tommy back at college yet? How's your folks?"
Still rubbing my arm, I followed her into the school building, answering her questions lightly while looking around for the others. The crowd of students was the same as outside, quiet and sombre, muttering condolences as they passed. There were a few 'Welcome Back!' decorations hanging in the halls, but there were also a few pictures of Olivia hanging from notice boards, in memory of her. Honestly, there were pictures all over town; images from tour, the beginnings of the band, the rare few from her social media. But the town's favourite was her yearbook picture, where she still had her shy smile. Teddy bears, flowers, paper cranes and more had been attached around each picture, signed by fans with words of love and sorrow, quotes of heartbreak and songs from our best hits. It had been touching at first, to know she was loved and as dearly missed by everyone as she was to those closest, but it angered me a little. Olivia had always confined in us, told us about being bullied for her absentee parents and how she was so shy, and to see all this support now, after her passing, I couldn't help to wonder where it had been when she was alive.
There was a large gathering of students around the main noticeboard, but after scanning the crowd we couldn't see any of our friends. Promising to regroup at lunch, Stella and I parted ways as the homeroom bell rang. I chose one of the furthest seats from the board, and watched as the class trickled in. There was more of a light hearted air for a while, which I relished in, watching as old friends reunited. A few of my old classmates and people I had hung out with before the band stopped by my desk to talk, though conversation on my end was a little dull. As much as I wanted to reconnect and talk to people, conversing was harder than I imagined.
Homeroom led to a school assembly, with Principal Brenigen droning on about the new school year, the sports try-outs and of course, her passing.
"It's with heavy hearts that we start this new school year on a, unfortunate note. Miss Olivia White, best known as the lead singer for our little renegade rock band 'Lemonade Mouth' has, passed. While her passing has come as shock, we can take peace in the fact that she lives on in memories. An area at the front of the school, besides the trophy case, has be sectioned off as tribute to her memory. If you want to leave flowers, gifts or notes for her, please leave them there and in a tidy formation. No candles to be lit due to the fire hazard regulations. School will continue as normal, but if anyone wants any counselling, or just a friendly ear to talk to, our counsellor will be available at any time. That will be all. You are now dismissed to go about our regular school schedule. Thank you."
No one argued back, though I could see a struggle a few rows over.
The rest of the morning was robotic, though my teachers tried their best to get the normally reluctant class to listen. When the lunch bell finally rang, for the first time all day, I hurried out of the room, excited to see the others. I just wanted to be with my friends, to bask in that familiar comfort they offered. That weird bond a bunch of misfits that had made through detention of all places over a love of music. There's talk of soulmates, but what about soulfriends? Cause I think I found mine.
Relief spilled through me when I saw they were all sitting at our collective spot, leaning against one another in comfort, making idle small talk. Mohini smiled brightly as I approached, untangling herself from Scott to give me a hug which I gladly returned.
"How you been Charlie?" she questioned, squeezing my ribs tightly.
"You know, sad. How about you? I see you can face us again." I teased lightly, taking joy in the way she laughed softly. Separating she swiped at her eyes, shrugging in response.
"I'm ok. Scott stopped by the day before yesterday despite my protests and helped me become more human like again. He's been a great help actually." She smiled, looking over at him in thanks. Taking in her soft gaze and the dark, puffy rings under her eyes, I felt my heart…break? No. A sense of…realization if you will. I knew my chances of ever taking her out were slim to none as her and Scott worked on their relationship, but seeing this now, I just knew it was none. Clearing my throat a little I nodded in understanding as she led me to sit beside her, Scott pushing some food in my direction. He didn't say anything, but I knew we didn't need to. His grief was written all over his face. The only other time I had seen such exhaustion was in the days leading up to Liv's death. In fact, looking closer, I wonder if he did sleep at all the remaining of the summer. Wen was quiet, and a spark of fear started to coil in my gut. He grunted in reply to my greeting, as he stared at the table. Stella stopped picking at her food to take us in, her eyes flickering over each us in concern. I followed her lead, taking in Mo's ragged top and sweat pants, Scott's unstyled hair, the way Wen's hands still hadn't uncurled. Sighing she reached out and forced his fingers open, putting a fork and knife between them so he could at least start on the food in front of him.
"I missed you all."
Mo broke. Sobbing she reached out to hug Wen across the table, as he sat frozen, shocked by the words that had slipped out. Scott and I exchanged a glance before moving around to place a comforting hand on his shoulders. Stella wiped at her face before patting his forearm affectionately.
"Same here bud, same here."
No one bothered us when lunch finished. In fact, no one bothered us for the rest of the day.
September 23rd 2011
How we managed to get through the first weeks of school is a mystery. While most of the school seemed to move on and focus returned to studying, I found myself getting pulled along in their wake. My parents enrolled me in the counselling sessions, and twice a week I was supposed to meet with the guidance councillor to discuss how I felt. Originally it was them who suggested I write things down as an outlet, and I've found it more relaxing than I realised. When I told Stella, she snorted in amusement but quickly reflected that it was a lot like song writing. Since then I've seen her pouring over lyrics during classes and lunch, muttering under her breath. Wen has been going to more session than the rest of us, I learnt after talking to Mo. She told me he got called away from classes every other day during those first two weeks, looking more haggard upon his return after each session. She was worried as he had yet to fully break down around us and feared something was going to happen if we didn't do something soon. And while I share her concerns, what can you do for a heartbroken man who won't let anyone in? Scott had found him sobbing in the music auditorium last week, but his attempts to comfort him were gently pushed away.
Meanwhile, I found myself trying to rally everyone together. I had earned the title 'Band Mother' a little while back with my need to keep everyone together and happy. But that was when Mo had an anxiety attack, or Stella and Wen had pushed too hard. And I had Olivia to back me up. It's not so easy when your main source of support has crumbled.
Mrs Reznick was amazing. She had always had an open door policy for the students at this school, but now she actively sourced us out to greet us with a smile and some cheer. She asked how we were holding up in class, how our folks were, how each day was going as if that was the most important issue at hand. If we couldn't offer any words, she'd tell us about how the music program was blooming, or how her own kids were doing at their schools. She knew just how to cheer each of us up, and always ended her daily pep talk with a reminder that we were free to use the music room to practice, to chill or reflect whenever. I wish our management was the same. Stella had informed us that they were wanting to know what was going to happen to the band as it was a month since our hiatus. They wanted news to tell the media swarm, songs to be recorded, shows to be booked, a new lead to be chosen. When Stella had informed us of this, white knuckled and pale, for the first time in over a month, we all raised our voices. Our parents hadn't been much happier and lawyers were about to be called to demolish contracts. To this day, I'm still not entirely sure what magic Stella worked, but we still had our music contracts for another year, and management was sent away with some vague response.
Honestly it was a shit storm. But the breaking point was today. Class had been as normal, me sitting in the back, zoning out as I drummed lightly against my desk, wondering what to do this weekend, when Scott suddenly burst into the room.
"Charlie! You need to come now! It's urgent!" he yelled, skidding to stop at my desk. Gapping at him, I watch as he grappled at my jacket, hauling my ass from the seat. "I'm sorry Mrs McCormack but there's a band emergency! Charlie, you need to help, Wen…" he didn't need to finish as I was dragged from the class, immediately hearing the sounds of destruction from nearby. Steadying myself I ran after him, picking up the sounds of someone screaming about Olivia.
"-it has to go! None of this should be here!"
"Wen, please, stop! Liv would have wanted-"
"What? What would she have wanted Stell? A-a-a giant shrine in her memory? Some, sappy poetry about how they were sorry? She would have wanted this?" the sounds of porcelain shattering and paper being ripped to shreds echoed around the hall, as Stella continued to plead with him. Skidding around the corner, we finally found Wen in front of the trophy cabinet, tearing the memorial to Olivia to pieces. Fluff and ceramics were everywhere, pieces of coloured paper fluttering around his head. Stella was trying to prise him away from the board, Mohini hovering close by, anxiously biting her knuckles as a crowd of students and teachers started to gather from nearby.
"Dude, you need to stop!" Scott urged, running to back Stella up, only to have the air knocked from him as Wen swung around angrily, punching him by accident in the stomach. Not noticing how Scott stumbled, Wen choked out, "But this is all wrong!"
"Man, are you ok?" Stella asked the injured boy quickly, still trying to wrestle Wen away from the memorial with some difficulty. He gave a weak nod before clambering for Wen's ankles, the other boy not noticing as he cried.
"Olivia wouldn't have wanted all of this! She was better than this! This is a mockery to her memory. This whole town has been mocking her memory!" I could only gap as he lunged for the picture of her, ripping it from the board. Stella and Scott both froze as Mo gasped, watching as Wen tore it tiny pieces. A silence fell upon the lobby as Wen finally stopped, watching the paper fall slowly through the air to settle at his feet. Surprisingly it was me who stepped forward first, hesitantly I'll admit, but when my hand landed on his shoulder in comfort, he broke, letting out the most heart breaking wail I had ever heard, turning into Stella's hold to cry like a toddler. I helped Scott to his feet as Mo ushered everyone away with the help of the teachers before running to us, murmuring soft words to Wen as Stella cradled him, petting his hair gently. We were a mess, surrounded by destruction, when eventually Principal Brenigen approached cautiously, Mrs Reznick close behind, for once no Segway in sight.
"Jenny, help get these kids into your classroom. Get the kitchen staff to make them something to, ease their pain. I'll alert their parents and issue a statement to the rest of the school and the board. If you see the janitor on the way, let him know he's needed out here. Just, get them out of here." He muttered, slowly shifting some of the debris out of their way.
"Well do." She sighed, picking her way over the rest, sharing a look of sorrow with him. Crouching down next to our huddle, she took over Stella's roll, pulling Wen into a motherly embrace. We watched quietly as she soothed him, staying close for support. As I said, Mrs Reznick is amazing. She became our mother figure at this school and with the rise of the band. I'm unsure what she did or say to encourage Wen to calm a little, but it was enough to get him to his feet, wiping at his eyes. Mo gently reached out and pulled the last of the picture from his fingers, before wriggling her arm through his, Stella taking his other. I watched as Mrs Reznick began to led them away, but felt as if I should stay to help clean up. Give them time to talk. Sharing a look with Scott, it seemed he had the say idea, and wordlessly we began to clean up. Principal Brenigen seemed like he wanted to say something but stopped, sighing in defeat. For a while he also helped until the janitor appeared, proper cleaning supplies in hand, and he returned to his office to make those calls. For the next half hour we cleaned in silence, before turning to the remains of the memorial. Wen was right. It had become a shrine in Olivia's memory. If she could see it, she would have shied away in embarrassment, hating how the public eye was so focused on her. The janitor watched as we slowly pulled the noticeboard apart, dropping each remaining item into the bin he held nearby. It was, soothing in a way to see it go, but it also felt as if we were closing a chapter we didn't have the authority to close. But this was for Wen. He was our friend and the closest to Olivia. And to help friends grieve, you have to do what's best for them.
Eventually it was all gone, just a blank board in front of us. A blank slate.
And upon finding the others with Mrs Reznick, cups of cocoa in hand, and two more waiting for us, we all seemed to realise that was the same for the band. It was time for a new chapter, whether we were ready for it or not.