My Tourniquet
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West Island, Orb, Fall 71
"You're late getting home, Kira," Caridad said, not looking up from the pot she was stirring. "That's twice in a row."
"Been busy," Kira replied before walking to his room and shutting the door. His room was smaller than the last house, and probably emptier; a bed, a desk with his untouched school work, some shelves with few things on it, and a closet with his clothes. His laptop ceased working after it was thrown around last school year. Many of his pictures from middle school with his old friends were lost, destroyed, or left hidden away. There were no pictures left in his room.
It really wasn't home anymore. It probably never would be.
He dug out his math and literature books to work on. Normally, he would just do the work in a lazy manner, barely keeping the old grades like the old days. Strangely, he gave up and left the books on his desk. It wasn't like he didn't know the assignment.
Suddenly, he heard a soft knock. His mother entered. "Kira, I got a phone call a while ago. It said you missed your first classes. What happened?" Her voice was small and worried.
"I don't know," Kira lied, which came easier than he thought. "I was in class. Maybe the teachers forgot to mark the attendance sheet or something. It happens to the others a lot."
"Oh, okay," she nodded. "Dinner's in an hour, but Haruma said he wouldn't be back until late tonight." Then she left.
"Good riddance," Kira muttered.
The next morning, Amy showed up just outside the school gates with another guitar. It was in decent condition with a little dust. The black and blue paint was still shining. "It was in the storage room. My ex-boyfriend from hell, may he rot painfully, left it. It should do the trick."
"Sweet," Paul nodded with a smile. "This is gonna be fun. Shall we cut the first hour again?"
"Did you guys get phone calls saying you missed class?" Kira asked. They had begun weaving through the students towards the band room.
Amy scoffed, dismissing his concern. "Don't we all? I just say the old hag forgot to mark the attendance sheet again, if my dad ever gets the message."
"Ditto," Deanna and Dave said casually.
"I always answer the phone so I'm good," Paul smirked. "My dad don't give a rat's ass anyhow. He preferred I didn't go to school, actually. I go to piss him off and keep away from him."
"Sounds like you guys great along great with your parents, too," Amy rolled her eyes. They ducked into the rehearsal room without being seen and chilled.
"Raise your hands if you hate your parents," Deanna polled. Everyone raised their hands, Kira more slowly. It was a weird thing.
"Come on, Kira," Amy insisted. "You can't like them."
"My mother's not too bad," Kira said slowly with some uncertainty.
"My dad's a sweet man," Amy cynically retorted. "Simply put, I hate his guts. People, particularly parents, don't deserve shit if that's all they dish out."
"Ya know," Paul interjected, "let's not start the morning so sour. Practice time."
"I concur," Deanna said, ringing her cymbals at her percussion set up. Paul helped Kira set up the guitars and tune them. Amy played around on the piano while Dave set up his bass guitar.
The morning passed again quickly and they halted for lunch feeling satisfied. This time they were joined in their room by a friend from Amy's childhood. Em was a known guy around the school. He was already a single parent of a little almost-two-year-old girl named Emmaleigh.
"What's new, stranger?" Em asked, noting the new faces surrounding his friend.
"Paul, Dee, Dave, and Kira," Amy said, pointing to each one. "We started a band like, yesterday. This is Em."
"Way cool," Em nodded. "What brought this on?"
"Boredom?" Paul put in.
"Class sucks?" Dave added.
"Life sucks?" Deanna topped off.
They laughed and even Kira chuckled. Em shrugged. "Well, you're missing jackshit in the hag's class. Same shit as last week and the week before."
"I figured as much," Amy said, biting her sandwich again with a grimace. "I'm suddenly wanting a salad."
"Feeling fat?" Paul laughed, which only resulted in the remainder of the questionable sandwich landing in his face. "Ew!"
"Whatcha looking at?" Amy noted Em staring across the room. He shook his head and looked at Amy.
"Huh?"
Amy traced his line of sight and saw Olivia RaMare leaving the room. A mute young woman with red dyed hair and a unique sense of fashion, courtesy of her in-house designs. "Watch yourself. The last time you dated it didn't exactly go so well."
"I dated a crazy ass bitch last time," Em defended. "Liv's real nice."
"Just don't stick your dick in her and it might work out long enough," Amy replied, not really caring since he had a point. Olivia was nice compared to Emmaleigh's druggy mother.
Back in middle school, Em dated one of the prettiest girls in the school, Britanie. Large chest, creamy skin, slender legs, everything a guy could ask for. Underneath the ditzy smile was a monster. Needle tracks came and went on her arms and it was a game to bet which day she would appear in class ever sober. Amy hated the bitch before and after Em dated her and was anything but silent on the matter. It eventually drove the two friends apart when Britanie ended up pregnant with his kid. Kudos to Em, as he was the one who stuck around even after breaking up with her. After Emmaleigh was born, the crack head left the sickly infant with Em and his mother. Em made up with Amy and asked for her to be the official godmother and auntie for the child, which she agreed to. Since then, he played it straight and avoided dating, preferring to work and raise Emmaleigh without the drama trauma.
For the rest of the day, they attended the last couple of classes and met after school. Finally they departed for Sleepy Café. Hot coffee and sweet Danishes were unanimously voted a good ending to a day.
"Okay, if we keep this up, we could have an awesome song made up in another week," Paul pointed out randomly. "Maybe we'll get a routine down or something."
They nodded and continued sipping on their coffee. Amy asked, "How far do you think we can go with this? I mean, just a thing or all the way as in world wide famous?"
"World wide would be a dream come true," Paul declared. "After all this dinking on a guitar, it's refreshing to play seriously. We can write our own ticket to any place in the world."
"Before this started," Dave added, "I never really stopped to think about what to do with myself after high school. All I had was my bass and small group and no where do go. There was no aim until now."
Deanna nodded, "And now it's like this giant doorway appeared out of nowhere."
"You?" Amy asked Kira.
He kept staring at his drink for a while, not sure how to answer. At last, he said, "I thought I knew what I wanted to do, but now, it feels…limited and dull."
"And what was that?" Amy prodded.
"Computer programming," Kira said.
"Ick," Amy grimaced. "I get a headache just thinking the words. Computers are a hit and miss deal with me. I killed my old computer at home, which means I have to do my damn essays at the school or internet café."
Deanna said, "Who's doing the essay for Mr. Johsen?"
"Not me," Amy winced. "I don't get it."
"Me, too," Dave added.
Kira shrugged. "I normally would, but lately…"
"Welcome to the real world," Amy laughed. "My goal it to attend and do just enough work to kept from failing. Then I can pass high school without an issue."
"Great plan," Paul said.
"Hey," Dave said suddenly, "how about next semester, we all drop a class. Then we can all have an open period to practice more."
"I'm flunking algebra, second period," Amy declared.
"You need it to graduate," Dave retorted. She scowled at the unfortunate fact.
"How about fourth period, after lunch?" Deanna said. "That's art survey class for me. I think Mr. Render can drop dead any day. Says I need therapy or something."
Kira looked at her. "Art class, huh?"
The girl in black just looked at him. "Nothing better to do. Besides, Dave said I needed a more creative outlet."
"Plus it's great entertainment when she scares the teacher," Em laughed. "You should've seen her altered book project and that paper Mache ghoul she made. Totally wicked."
"Didn't anyone tell you that harassing the teachers is asking for trouble?" Kira sighed.
"Nope," Paul and Dave replied.
Amy added, "Kira's from a prep school, remember?"
"Okay, tell me, you miss it?" The muscled guitarist had this ridiculing smile on his goofy face.
Kira thought about it for a moment. "I don't know. Classes were harder, teachers were stiffer. You're surrounded by all these people but no one is really looking at you because they're too busy with themselves."
"No friends?"
"I had a lot actually," Kira admitted, remembering Athrun and Lacus. "We were pretty close growing up but I hadn't kept in touch after leaving."
"So, NPA or prep?" Deanna asked.
"Ah…NPA," he answered. His friends looked at him. "What?"
"Why trashed NPA and not up-scale prep?" Amy usually didn't care but curiosity had its way of getting what it wanted.
"For one, no awful uniforms," Kira listed. They laughed. "The class clowns are much more hilarious."
Dave clutched his heart and looked at his partner, a dramatic countenance on his face. "Whoo…what was that rush I felt just now?"
"Felt that, too, huh," Paul grinned. "I think, my good friend, that was a sudden boost in the ego."
Amy just groaned and smacked her forehead against the hardwood table of the booth they occupied. "Any more and your heads will implode."
"Cool," Deanna commented. "What else?"
"I guess it's nice to just do and be what I want," Kira finished.
"Here, here," they cheered.
They paid for their drinks and left the café. Just outside the door, Dave lit up a cigarette and inhaled the noxious fumes. Kira made no comment. Paul warned him that Dave was a smoker and drinker courtesy of his dad. Of both habitual problems, Dave had only broken away from the alcoholic one. Parting words said, the group split up. Instead of walking her own way, Amy tagged along with Kira this time. "Curious where you live, really."
"Nothing special," Kira sighed. "Trashed neighborhood, lousy neighbors, run down house."
Amy rolled her eyes. "Same here. My dad refuses put anything in to fix the dump. We're lucky to have basic utilities."
He nodded.
"Well, catch ya later," Amy said. She walked on past his house as he stopped.
"Later," he replied, though she probably didn't hear him. He walked into the house, greeted by the same "You're late again" from his mother.
"Been busy" was the same reply. Before he passed her to his room, she asked, "We got another call today. Do your teachers keep missing the attendance?"
"I guess," Kira replied.
The next morning they attended their morning classes and only missed the last class of the day. But after that, they tried to keep on their classes. After all, too many misses in any class would result in retaking the entire course and even being stuck longer in the school. Even Amy had admitted it was better to just do it and get it over with.
To make up their time, they took up lunch to work. Of course, on Paul's order, he and Kira cut their history class a time or two to practice the guitar, which was going well. Kira always left the guitar at the rehearsal room, feeling awkward about taking it home. He didn't want to risk breaking it.
Rumors began flying around the school about the strange closeness of the select group. It was as if everyone suddenly knew Kira existed. Not once since arriving had he had a conversation with anyone in the school. As he was dragged to the corner where Amy and Em sat, the invisibility had lifted. The hallway interaction between Paul, Dave and Deanna with Amy, Em and Kira did not escape the gossip of NPA.
Needless to say, the band was horrified that Kira had never really listened to anything but classical and ballad songs before and couldn't name a popular rock band. They took to bringing him up to speed on the hottest bands in the world. Strangely enough, Kira found himself drawn to the lyrics and upbeat music.
They all continued meeting after school and at the café later in the afternoon. The weeks were spent on guitar training with Kira and music editing for the others. Chance walked into them once more as they sat in the café, watching as a somewhat familiar girl walked in. Most of them remember her from a class or two. But she was more known from the words floating through the halls. She probably ranked in the top five sluts around. A fiery red head they called Black Widow, as displayed on her right shoulder blade. But she was hardly older than them.
"That's Karmella, right?" Paul said, eyeing her a little.
"Checking her out, Paul?" Dave snickered. "And what's with the long stare, Amy?"
Amy nodded towards her. "That case, isn't it for violins?"
"Looks it," Dave answered. "Can I guess what you're thinking? Because it sounds cool to me."
"Call her over," Amy said nonchalantly. "Let's see what she can do."
"I'll get her," Paul said quickly, jumping from his seat and walking over to the girl.
"What an idiot," Deanna ridiculed. "Men."
"Ouch," Dave feigned pain. "That's a little harsh, Dee. We're not all like Paul. I just hope whatever goes down that her reputation doesn't kick us in the ass."
Deanna rolled her shadowed eyes. Paul finally came back with Karmella in tow. The girl looked a little wary. Amy looked at her. "You're Karmella, right?"
"And you're Amy," Karmella threw back. "The perv here said you wanted to talk to me. What is it?"
"I just wondered if you played that violin?" Amy asked.
"Oh, this," Kara said. "I learned it from my mother since I was four. She played in college, I think."
"Ooh, college," Amy said. "Well, a long story short, we just started a band last month. We're getting ready to start playing our music. And I was just thinking that the violin would be a great addition. What do you think?"
Karmella stayed silent for a while. Finally, she said, "You sure you want someone with my reputation in your little group?"
"And who gives a damn?" Amy retorted. "I'm no Miss Perfect n' Sweet. But I would recommend cutting back." This she said in a lighter you-might-as-well tone.
"When do you practice?"
"How about the rehearsal room during lunch?"
"I'll be there."
Their newest addition proved to be a good violinist and was also familiar with the piano and a variety of other stringed instruments. The violin and piano were two instruments she claimed her mother insisted she study young. As a result, the first song went smoothly, which they aptly named 'My Tourniquet'.
"If we're playing all these sounds effects during these songs, I might consider recording the violin and piano and teach Kara to control them. What I wouldn't give for a synthesizer."
Amy agreed. Dave proved again and again to be a talent with the computer in manipulating recorded sounds to play. With the first done, they moved through their second song quickly. Until they started skipping a couple of classes again and got caught. Ms. Roberts was on them quickly and fiercely like she normally is. And so began the detention. Only Amy could roll her eyes and care less. Paul took it easier than the rest but was still not cool with being stuck under the evil eye of the detention master, Mr. Caster.
After an hour after school of dull detention (during which Paul and Dave initiated a paper football war), they continued to the rehearsal room and then the café an hour later than normal. By then, no one cared.
"It's another month before class is over for the semester," Dave said. "Continuing what I said a while back, I think we should all drop our fourth hour class. Then we'll have lunch then fourth hour to practice in a row. All we really have is Art or AV class."
"Not bad," Amy said. "I won't miss my writing class."
Kira agreed. The computer class wasn't something he would actually miss terribly. "Fourth hour works."
They chatted for an hour or so more before finally splitting home.
Amy plopped down on her bed, actually smiling for once. It only lasted a moment, since she heard the front door slam.
Shit, she thought. That bastard's home already. She crept over and locked her door. She put her headphones on and blasted her music. But even it failed to drown out the banging and yelling at her door. When she noted the door latch giving way, she quickly grabbed her pack and left out of the window.
"Damn," she cursed. Another night out.
Kira walked in and saw his mother waiting for him. "Where have you been?" she scolded, though her eyes showed panic. "I got a call saying you were in detention, detention! For skipping class of all things. What's going on?"
"It's nothing, mother," Kira insisted. "Just nothing."
"Kira, you never skip class!" she hissed. "What are you doing?"
The accusation in her tone was not missed. "I'm not doing anything," he argued.
"Honey, just talk to me and..."
"And what? Get better? News flash, nothing is getting better," Kira snapped. "Things are only getting worse and you know what, you just put with it."
"We're just trying to get our lives straight again," Caridad defended. "Uzumi made things very hard for us, you know that."
"I'm sure," Kira rolled his eyes.
The woman crossed her arms, glaring at her child. "You never answered me. What is going on that you're skipping class? Drugs? Gangs?"
"No! Damn it, I'm not doing anything wrong, okay."
"Bullshit," Haruma snapped. Kira winced. "Don't talk back to your mother like that."
"It's really nothing," Kira repeated. "Just a project with some friends. So we missed class to work on it."
"Is that why you've been late and missing your other classes before?" Haruma asked. "A lame reason, if you ask me, considering you wouldn't be in trouble for a class project."
"Well, it's not illegal," the teen shot back. Before Kira could move, the man was standing over him, with him being on the floor. He wiped the corner of his mouth of blood.
"I'm not tolerating any attitude from you," Haruma snapped furiously. Nothing more was said as Kira retreated to the confines of his room, the unfamiliar feelings of anger and frustration building up finally. The fighting was nothing new but still...drugs? Gangs? Where the hell did all of that come from? He paced his room, trying to calm down and not fall to pieces. Before he knew it, an urge for an old habit from a couple years ago returned with a vengeance, along with the past feeling long buried.
"You two look like shit," Paul stated bluntly at another laid back lunch in the band room. "Have been throughout class."
"Fuck yourself, Day. My dad was the usual bastard with a couple of extra rounds of whiskey," Amy sighed. "So I was out last night until really late."
"Just a rough night," Kira replied quietly. The rest nodded.
"Well, let's get on with this," Amy announced. The music went more smoothly each time. They skipped right into fourth and fifth hour again on Amy's insistence. "Who cares" was her only and final reply, one they gave up arguing. Dave began recording Amy and Kara's parts to free their hands and attention for the other parts of the song. For a roughing-it group, it was turning out nicely.
They jumped but said nothing as Ms. Roberts opened the door to their rehearsal room. Amy almost laughed. "At it again, you…six. Quite a production you have going on here. I hope it's worth it, Walters. Out now!"
They silently put their instruments away and prepared for class when the bell rang. Amy led them out the door. Mrs. Roberts shut the door behind them.
"And do stop by Mr. Caster's on the way from your last class," the principal added.
"Shit," Amy grumbled.
"And I thought I was vindictive whore," Kara muttered.
Her only response was silence. Each student went their own way. Kira, Deanna, and Dave weaved through the students to law while Kara and Amy pushed their way to geography, leaving Paul at the nearby computer lab.
Maybe it was not worth it. But perhaps Amy thought it would be in the future. She had probably counted on that. Kira hoped so, too, as he entered the house early that evening. Caridad sighed and gave up saying anything to him. Haruma arrived later that night, drunk once more. There was a second male voice with his, but he didn't stay long enough. He left with a malicious chuckle that would frighten any wandering ghost.
Kira's first careless mistake of that evening was not taking care of matters with his mother before dinner, such as checking the answering machine for the messages about his detention. His second mistake would cost more dearly: not locking the door. Haruma walked in, furious. He said little as he grabbed Kira by the collar of his shirt and threw him back into the wall. Before he could react, Kira felt the man's fist connect with his cheek, sending him to the floor. Kira gasped for air when Haruma kicked him in the stomach a few times.
"I think we discussed about getting in trouble around here," Haruma spat. "It better not happen again." Then he left. Kira just lay there for a few hours. Like always, his mother never looked in and ignored everything. The house fell silent.
It was a couple hours later before he hauled himself into bed. He fell asleep in pain and woke up in pain. There was a slight bruising on his cheek. It would fade in a couple of days. As he changed, Kira saw the bruises on his abdomen were darker and tenderer. The one along his jaw line was also darkened. He grabbed his backpack and went down to the kitchen. Caridad was just getting up herself. As always, she looked tired.
"Hey," she said. He didn't reply. Instead he went straight for the door. She looked puzzled and added, "I may not be home when you get back this afternoon."
Kira cringed at the information and left for school, where he met the rest of his friends in the practice room.
"Fuck," Dave said as Kira walked in. "These detentions really are getting to us. Or at least Mr. Caster. Getting home that late made my old man blow. Figures that's the one night he's home!"
Deanna was quiet and withdrawn to a corner of the rehearsal room. She had been downcast and paranoid about anyone near her. Dave knew all that had happened, since he lived across the street and she always came to him for help, though always too late. Amy was bitchier than usual, sporting a new bruise on her neck. The same went with Kira, except he was quieter, almost timid like Deanna. Karmella remained silent, watching the teens around her.
"I assume things didn't go so well last night," Paul remarked, rolling his neck. He was also sleep deprived. So far, only Karmella seemed to be free of any turmoil.
"Let's not get into it," Amy snapped. "I really don't care. Shit happens. So suck it up and move on."
"No," Dave suddenly mumbled. Then more clearly, he said, "I think we need to chill. All we're doing is getting ourselves in deep shit. And honestly, we can't take it. Amy, if we do this thing, let's be careful."
"Whether we do this or not," Amy said, "we'll always end up in deep shit. And since we're here, I say we do it."
"Amy, it's not worth the trouble," Paul said. It was probably the first time anyone had seen such a serious side to the ass.
"Again, this has nothing to do with it," Amy protested. "I'm not giving up. Fuck the teachers, our parents, and fuck the rules. We're played by them before and look where we stand."
"Then you're a glutton for pain and shit, because it's only getting worse," Dave snapped. "Let's go, Dee."
He helped her up and the two walked out. The others left, leaving only Kira and Amy. Kira sighed. "Not everyone can be careless like you, Amy."
"You just care about the wrong god-damn shit," Amy hissed. Kira shook his head and left silently, leaving Amy alone in the darkened room.
Things returned to the old ways, but somehow, nothing really was the same.