Page 17 of Rock and a Hard Place

While Garrett and Adam awed with their expert guitar stylings, Peter ramped things up with stage moves, mic tricks, and vocals. He mesmerized the audience.

Perspiration glistened over his body. His mop of hair dripped with sweat. He whipped it to the side as he belted each note. He left every ounce of energy onstage; he held nothing back and the audience knew it. Peter peered out over the thousands of fans and watched as the lights illuminated different areas of the audience that the threebrothers, Jamieson, held in a spell. The experience of sharing the music he created never failed to intoxicate him.

That Friday, Libby sank low in her folding chair and buried her head in a copy of The Great Gatsby. At least the book helped her appear a little less obvious as she sold tickets among the riotous noise of the commons area.

True to her word, Miss Orman expected her to sell bus tickets to the away football game that night. Some cheerleader should be stuck at the table, not her.

She’d sold a dozen or so tickets, but most of the students ignored her. Libby had become invisible to them months earlier. Of course, she didn’t help the situation any by trying to fit in.

When she started school in Rockville, her heart overflowed with grief and thoughts of her mom and her sister, Sarah. Her withdrawn personality mistakenly convinced the kids she was a loner, but even the loners had found her eerily withdrawn. Libby’s only problem was that she suffered terrible grief. But everything changed the day Peter walked into her life. Now all she could concentrate on was him and how unbelievable it was that he actually wanted to see her again.

Since checking Peter out on the internet, she’d thought of nothing else. When they talked at Parfrey’s Glen, she thought he’d exaggerated the popularity of their band. In reality, he’d understated it.

She couldn’t imagine why he asked to see her on Saturday, but she wasn’t going to second-guess his sanity. She could barely wait to lay eyes on him again and make sure she didn’t dream up the whole thing. The hour crept by so slowly, she wanted to scream.

If only she could figure out a way to get his music, then she could hear his voice and pretend he was near. She needed a connection to Peter, some way to get a little closer. But she had no money and no phone or way to download music. If she could just get her hands on a CD. It was old school, but it was all she could think of. But there was no way to go to a store outside of school hours, let alone pay for it.

Aunt Marge insisted Libby spend all her time studying or outside in the fresh air. She was paranoid Libby might do something remotely normal like get a job, have friends over, or, God forbid, go on a date. Libby suspected her aunt possessed other motives, but it never bothered her until now. She was used to her aunt’s bizarre and strict behavior. Libby had never questioned her authority; she always gave in.

A group of freshman girls walked up and bought tickets.

“Thanks,” their chirpy little voices said. “Yup,” Libby mumbled as they walked away.

Libby picked up the crinkled bills and smoothed them. Out of boredom she arranged them in the same direction. As she flipped the bills around, it dawned on her that sheheld enough money to buy Peter’s CD. Her heart stopped for a moment.

Stealing is wrong.

She placed the bills in the metal cash box and closed it.

She would not do it. She’d find another way.

Her determination wavered. The money would solve her problem so fast. No one would miss a few dollars. In the grand scheme of things, seventeen dollars was nothing.

Never in her life had Libby taken anything from anyone, but this was different. Her aunt only gave her enough money for lunch, nothing more. If Libby needed clothing, her aunt drove her to the thrift store to pick out a couple items. It humiliated Libby to buy other people’s castoffs, but she wasn’t allowed to get a job, and she didn’t have access to money. Now that she thought about it, she realized how much Aunt Marge controlled her life and she didn’t like the taste of it. Not at all.

The only way she could get Peter’s music was to be creative. Taking this money qualified.

She peered around the crowded commons area. No one seemed to notice her or the tempting cash box. She chewed on her lip and tapped her toe against the table leg. After a minute or so, she reached forward and opened the lid. Her pulse raced. She grabbed a couple five-dollar bills and a handful of ones.

She pulled her hand out, folded the bills, and slid them into her back pocket. She kept her head down. If she didn’tlook at anyone, they wouldn’t look at her. She sat tapping her foot back and forth, counting the final minutes until the bell. At last it rang and her ticket-selling session ended.

Libby grabbed her books and the cash box and walked to the front office. She quickly dropped off the box with the old secretary and left, her head held low in shame. The stolen money burned in her back pocket like a hot coal.

Without hesitating, she went straight to her locker, stuffed her books inside, and grabbed her coat. She swallowed down her guilt. She would not let her conscience get in the way. As the remaining students straggled to their next class, Libby strode out the school doors.

6

Twenty minutes later, Libby’s worn-out shoes padded through the discount store. She wanted to go unnoticed, but the bright store lights shone down, revealing her presence. Guilt hung on her shoulders like a heavy chain.

She found the entertainment section filled with electronics, video games, and DVDs. She searched one aisle and then another. Nothing. Panic crept over her. She had little time to return to school and catch her bus.

“Can I help you?” A middle-aged man with a big belly held a scanning device in his hand and waited for her response.

“Uh, yes,” she whispered, then cleared her throat and spoke louder. “I was wondering where you keep the CDs?”

“Down here on the end,” he replied, turning and walking down the aisle. She trailed after him. Did he wonderwhy a high school kid was in the store during the middle of the afternoon?

He turned the corner. “Country and show tunes are on this side, rock and jazz on the other, new releases are on the aisle end. Is there anything particular you’re looking for?”

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