Abandoned

High school would begin in a few days, and I didn't want to go.  Wayne had already dropped out to play music full time and Steve had decided to join him.  Tommy had dropped out, too.  I was only fifteen, so that wasn't an option.  

Wayne had joined a band with a former member of the band The Left Banke who had quit just before they recorded their big hit "Walk Away Renee."  Wayne was a good guitar player, and that was all he cared about.  Steve and I went to hear his new band play one of the local radio station promotions one afternoon, and they were good.  Standing out in the crowd watching Wayne onstage, though, made me ache with jealousy.  They were far better than we had ever been.  Maybe it was due to the amount of sound the large sound system gave them, but I doubted it.  Their harmonies were clear and crisp.  Everything was right.  They were going to the recording studio to cut a demo.  They were going on tour with another band.  Wayne was out.  He had grown up.  Steve had a new girl and was trying to get out, too.  Tommy was working in a tire shop busting his knuckles and making his own money.  

I would go to high school.  

There were new rules, they said.  We had to tuck our shirts in and our hair had to be cut. It couldn't touch the collar of our shirts and had to be above our ears.  Girls were made to kneel on the ground in order to have the hem of their skirts measured.  It would be like the Nazi camps they had taught us about in history class.  We would be prisoners.  It would be torture.  

Meanwhile, at home my parent's continued to argue.  There was seldom any peace, and I was forced to sit through the bitterness and the accusations, trying to watch TV or listen to music in my room.  It would last a while, then one of them would leave the house and all that would be left was the greasy residue of anger and of sadness.  

I was in a lonely place, I thought.  Suddenly it was all gone.  I was not part of anything.  I shared nothing with anyone.