The Soundtrack of My Life

"It's Only Life"

MARCH 2007

I walked into the Ninth Grade Campus in a particularly good mood.  Dad had dropped me off a half hour early to school, the perfect amount of time to hang out with my friends before classes.  Thank God he had better time management than Mom. My hands gripped my backpack to relieve a bit of stress on my shoulders.  I was nervous about coming to school today since I had been a part of some drama last night.  I didn't mean to be, but I guess my on-again-off-again friend Amanda really wanted us to be ex-friends for the tenth time this year.  And that's not an exaggeration.  

I always seemed to do something to piss her off, but I never know how or why.  Last night, she accused me of texting her mom a simple "Haha" and I had denied it.  That was it.  But she blew it way out of proportion, just like she always does, and had started texting me hurtful things.  My mind automatically began reminding me of the one particular message that stood out to me,

"I hope your step dad rapes you!"

I had cried myself to sleep, trying to keep the nightmares of that actually happening at bay.  I didn't particularly get along with my step dad, and I highly doubt he would actually do something like that, but Amanda had really planted the seed of doubt in my subconscious.  I kept waking up from nightmares of him being in my bed, telling me that what he was going to do would be our little secret.  I shuddered at the thought of it again.  I had struggled to get out of bed this morning to face her, but I made a promise to myself to stay positive. I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of breaking me down.

As I walked through the somewhat empty hallways, I noticed my group of friends hanging out near the band room.  Everything seemed normal, that was where we always hung out.  I sighed with relief and stopped at my locker.  My backpack dropped to the shiny linoleum floor as I twisted the knob on my locker.  I put all of my things away and grabbed my trapper keeper for the day, before heading over to join my fellow band nerds.

As I made my way to the group, no one made eye contact with me.  As I got closer, I noticed that they were surrounding Amanda.  My heart sank as I heard her whisper to our friends. She made eye contact with me, two beady daggers making it hard to breathe.  My mind started racing, What was she telling them?  Why was I being punished for something so small and insignificant?  What do they think of me now?

I decided hanging around with these people would just make things worse.  I picked up the pace to pass them quickly, my new destination set for the band room.  But as I passed, I heard them all giggle.  I put my head down and hugged my trapper keeper to my chest and went through the large, heavy double doors.  They slammed behind me as if I had just been sentenced to life in societal prison.  

Luckily the  room was empty; the band director's door to his office was still locked.  I was completely alone, and relief washed over me.  I went into the storage room that held all of our instruments, and sat in a space that was between a shelving unit and a wall.   I pulled out my iPod from my pocket and unraveled my headphones as fast as I could.  My eyes scanned through my extensive list of songs to find my saving grace.   I stuffed my earbuds in my ears and pressed play.  The song blared through headphones, and I winced a little at the sharp sound, but I didn't care; it was making me feel better.  I blocked out the real world and got lost in the lyrics.  I put the song on repeat and listened to it over and over again as tears streamed down my face. 

I sat in that small space for what seemed like at least an hour when it was only twenty minutes. My band mates went in and out of the storage room, grabbing their instruments for class. I would wipe my tears away, hiding the fact that I had been crying. Most of them just ignored me and I was happy about that.  I didn't want anyone to think I was weak – especially Amanda.  The only good thing was that I didn't have to sit next to her during band class.  I was first chair, a spot that I had procured since I had started taking flute lessons to get better.  This was one thing that she could never take from me and I always sat in that spot with pride.  She wasn't a better flute player than me and never will be, no matter how much she practiced.

Eloise, my arch nemesis and my best friend, finally came into the storage room.  It was hard sharing a best friend; especially with someone like Amanda.  I only continued being friends with Amanda for Eloise's sake.  But every time we fought, it seemed like Amanda would demand her to be on her side, not mine.  I hated that, but I never wanted to force Eloise into picking sides.  That was just not how I worked.  Sure, it made our friendship more complicated, but Eloise was worth it.    

My best friend stood over me for a little while before she sat down.  I had a bitter taste in my mouth about her in that moment.  I don't think she had laughed at me when I walked by, but she was still with the group. But she hadn't bothered waving or even smiling at me, and that really hurt.  I definitely felt as if I was being a better friend today.  

Eloise tapped my leg and motioned for me to pull out my ear buds.  I pulled one out just so I could hear what she had to say, but still kept the other in place to lean on for comfort.  "That's really loud," she said. "You're going to damage your eardrums."

"So?" I snapped.  She gave me a hurt expression and I lowered my voice, "I listen to this song when I'm really upset.  It helps me calm down."

"Can I listen to it with you?" she asked.

I hesitated, but handed her the ear bud that I wasn't using.  She popped it in and I turned it down, just to protect her hearing.  I started the song over and we listened to it from beginning to end.  After it finished, she turned to me, "I am so glad you have a song to listen to like that to help you when you need it, Penelope."

"Yeah," I didn't know what else to say.

"Are you okay?" she asked. 

I had been waiting for her to bring up the drama.  I was sure Amanda had come up with some elaborate story to paint me as the bad guy, just like she always did.  "What is she saying?"

"That doesn't matter."

"But it does!" I shouted.  "The whole thing was a giant misunderstanding and she got so defensive so fast, and for no reason!  I didn't even send her mom or Amanda a text message after school yesterday.  I'll even show you," I offered her my phone for evidence.  

Eloise took my gray razor flip phone from me and searched through my texts.  The last text I had sent Amanda's mom was days prior, and it didn't even have the phrase, "Haha" in it.  Eloise handed my phone back and I shoved it into my right front pocket.  

"I'm sorry this is happening, but it's almost time for class.  We don't want to be late," she said sadly.  "Let's get up and put our flutes together, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," I answered.  She helped me up after I had paused my song.  I wrapped my headphones back around my iPod and stuffed it into the left front pocket of my jeans.  I grabbed my flute case from my cubby, wiped my eyes one last time, and left the storage room.  I took a deep breath and sat in my seat, completely ignoring Amanda who sat in fourth chair.  I put my flute together, holding my head up high.   I would not let her see that she had broken me down.

I am way stronger than that.