Dissonance - Chapter 39

I kept my eye on Linda, Eli, and Ronnie’s social media accounts, but nothing was posted by the time I had to go to school the next day. I know it was a little absurd to expect something overnight, but I was anxious, since I couldn’t think of anything else to do to keep us afloat until I got free of my parents. It was late when I called Rowan and there was every chance he hadn’t even talked to them yet. I’d pressed him as hard as I could about how important this was, and I trusted him to do it quickly, thinking that this had the best chance of success.

Besides, any of them could have stuff going on right now that would make contacting them difficult. Eli, for one, probably still had his own problems. I saw an article online the other day that their guitarist was out of the hospital and back home recuperating, but it would still be a long road for him.

Tuesday afternoon rolled around, and still nothing. I couldn’t call Rowan and prod him again, but I’d hoped to see something by the end of the day. It was only two-hundred characters, which shouldn’t take long to write. It really wasn’t a fair expectation for them to act quickly, of course, but I really needed this to happen.

I was once again in my head, and for the second time, Cameron managed to sneak up on me in the parking lot. This time, he called out my name from well outside of arm's distance, which was kind of funny.

“I swear I wasn’t going to try to hit you this time,” I said.

“Better safe than sorry. So, I took your advice and started following up on this stuff. I called the school district, and they had no idea what I was talking about, but they sounded really concerned that I found photocopies of the answers with student IDs on them. I asked them if that was against policy, and they wouldn’t answer, but I could hear it in their voices that this wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“That much is obvious.”

“Yeah, but I mean, I don’t think they knew about it. They were very surprised. I think this is something that our school administration did themselves.”

“You know your call is going to cause an uproar, right? They’re going to call the principal and ask what the hell is going on. Did you give them your name?”

“Yes, and I told them it was for a story for the school newspaper. How was I supposed to know? I was just asking questions.”

“Yeah, I know, but that means they’re going to know exactly who to come after. My experience, so far, is that they are much more interested in covering their own asses than actually doing things for the betterment of the students.”

“Yeah, I know. I also found out who some of the students are?”

“You did?”

“Yeah. I didn’t take pictures of the Scantrons, or whatever they’re called, cause then I’d have copies of the confidential information and they could use that against me, but I wrote down a bunch of the student IDs. Every ID is connected to someone who’s had some kind of run-in with the admin. Kids caught with drugs on them, kids caught drunk, kids who cheated or were in fights. I seriously doubt that’s just a coincidence. I think they did this to get information on the ‘bad kids’.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t see my ID.”

“I only wrote down ten, since I’d already been in there too long and didn’t want to get caught. Yours could have been there.”

“Probably was. And yeah, if they’re all kids who’ve been in trouble, then this is more than just record keeping or whatever.”

“If I write about this, it’s going to cause problems though. I mean, there’s no way the administration won’t go through the roof if I make this public. They are definitely ‘kill the messenger’ kind of people.”

“I know, but I think you need to write about it. People need to know they’re singling us out and that we can’t trust them when they tell us something is safe or anonymous. Right now, it’s just what do you drink and who do you sleep with, but next time it could be something really important.”

“I could get in trouble.”

“I know. If you’re really worried about that, then don’t do it. I wouldn’t want something bad to happen to you, but I think this is important and people should know about it. Could you pass it off to someone else?”

“No. I mean, yeah, I could, but I don’t want to put anyone else in this position.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I think you’re right, I have a responsibility to do the right thing here, even if I get in trouble. I’m going to write about it.”

“Will it even get in the school newspaper? It seems pretty unlikely your faculty advisor would let something like that go through.”

“Probably not, but I’m going to try. If it doesn’t, I’ll put it up on the web or something, and get the word out about where to find it.”

“Okay. Just be careful. Try and be as neutral as possible, so they can’t accuse you of having some kind of vendetta against the administration.”

“You and I both know they don’t care how neutral I am, they’ll still say that.”

“Yeah, probably. Good luck, man.”

“Thanks. I just needed to tell someone, and I guess hear them say I should still write about it. I know it’s important, but I haven’t really gotten in trouble before, so I’m a little scared.”

“It’s okay. Being scared about something like this is smart. I think you’re doing the right thing though, and I support you.”

“Thanks, Charlie. That means a lot.”

***

Friday, the first social media post came out. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Linda, but Eli, who posted the same message across all of his group's platforms.

Check out Country Road, the new release from Charlie Nelson and the Wild Cats. Charlie did us a huge favor and sat in for Brad recently at the Nashville Food & Wine Festival, and absolutely killed it. This kid can seriously play and he’s a good dude. Show him some love.

That was a lot more than what I was expecting. I knew it would take a week to see any kind of bump from that, but I really appreciated the fact that he took the time to do it. If I ever saw him again, I’d need to seriously thank him. I did all the stuff Megan had shown me to boost his post and hoped for the best. With their two million followers, if only one percent bought our record or went out to stream it, it would be a huge boost to our sales.

I know people saw it, because all weekend it got mentioned to me. The comments doubled after Linda posted something to her social media accounts on Saturday afternoon.

If you haven’t checked out Charlie Nelson and the Wild Cat’s new album, go stream it today. You won’t regret it. He opened for us this summer and absolutely slayed it. Since I’ve been taking credit for discovering him, Gracies need to get out there and make me look good. Blow his songs up.

I guess ‘Gracies’ was what they called their fans. I’d always found the idea of giving your fans a nickname a little weird, but hey, if they did go out and stream our record, who was I to criticize. And she was right; she did discover us, more or less. I sent out a response that evening, hoping her fans would see it and maybe follow us as well.

You’re not wrong. You and Rowan Hughes are the only reason we were able to make this record. But do you have to point it out every time I talk to you? LOL!!!

I won’t lie, even though I’d asked for their help, I still got a huge charge out of seeing people with that big of a following say nice things about us. My life may have been falling apart, but for a few days at least, I felt really good. Especially since everyone I knew, and a lot of people I didn’t, saw it and stopped me after our shows to tell me how cool it was.

It had been a week since I actually felt good, so I was enjoying it while it lasted. Not even Marco’s negativity could bring me down. He was pissed because both of the messages focused on me specifically, instead of the band. Marco felt that just mentioning the band but then talking about me made them all seem less important than me. I didn’t care, and neither did Seth or Lyla. It wasn’t like this was a random reviewer talking about us. I’d been more or less the only one to deal with both Linda and Eli and was the one who had any kind of relationship with them, even if it was only as an acquaintance. It made sense they’d single me out. Marco just liked to find things to bitch about.

On top of all that, we had a great weekend at the Blue Ridge. Maybe because of the buzz around the social media messages, the place was packed all three days. Chef normally paid us Monday after he finished going through all the receipts from the weekend, since we got a cut of the door and didn’t want to stay around and wait late at night to get it. Considering how often we played there, we all trusted him to pay us, so no one had a problem with this arrangement. Between paying us for the entire weekend and the fact that most people seemed to pay with cards these days, he would cut us a check every Monday after we played. I’d swing by after school, get the check, deposit it and pull out the cash to pay the band, and head back to the Blue Ridge for practice. Finally, I’d drop off everyone else’s shares at their house before going back to Hanna’s house, where I’d spend the rest of the night doing homework.

Today was going basically as usual, except the check was larger than normal, because of the large crowds. I filled doubt the normal amount on the deposit slip and the withdrawal slip and waited in line, handing them to the teller when it was my turn. I could have probably done it through the ATM, but I really didn’t trust putting a check into the machine, since I could just imagine it eating it up and losing any record of it. Things were progressing normally until the teller suddenly walked off to talk to someone that looked like a manager, which had never happened to me before.

I thought it might be because of the size of the check and the withdrawals, but the ones after we got back to town from touring had been just as large, and hadn’t caused a problem. I knew Chef was good for the money, so I was a little confused as the manager followed her back to the window I was standing at.

“I’m sorry, we can’t give you cash back for this. It takes several days for the check to clear, so we can only give out cash if there is enough money in the account to cover it.”

The check was large, but I was pretty sure we had enough in the account to cover it, since it was one of the first things I’d dealt with when we set up the account. I’d left a portion of my earnings in the account over several months, so I would have enough cash to be able to pay out the band every week. It occurred to me that my dad could have made another withdrawal. He hadn’t dipped into the account since the last time that happened, after I’d bounced him off the fridge, so I thought he’d learned his lesson.

“Are you sure? I could have sworn there was enough in there last week. How much is it short?”

If Dad did dip into it, I could transfer money from my personal account, which was at this same bank, and then figure it out from there. Confronting him about the money he took out seemed like a bad idea, especially since the emancipation process had already started, but I wasn't sure what else I could do to get it back. Maybe ask Mom, but there was no guarantee she’d pay me back even if she had the money.

“I’m sorry, but this account is empty,” the teller said.

“What?”

“This account is empty,” the manager repeated.

“What do you mean it’s empty? There was money in it last week.”

The manager moved the teller aside and typed a few things in the computer, and said, “There was a withdrawal Monday afternoon that removed the entire balance. I’m sure you would have been warned that leaving the account with a zero balance would make you susceptible to fees for going below the minimum deposit required in this account. Did you not get that warning?”

“No,” I said, knowing exactly what happened.

Dad had taken all the money. That wasn’t a shock, nor was the fact that it happened Monday. He must have come straight here after receiving the notice of the petition for emancipation. That explained why he didn’t show up demanding answers when he got the notice. He decided cleaning me out was the better revenge. Worse, I still had the band to deal with. They knew we got paid on Monday and would be waiting for their money. I took a deep breath, and tried to push the rage I felt down. The teller didn’t do anything, and it wouldn’t help my situation to take it out on her.

“I see,” I said, slowly as I fought to retain control. “I know this might not be allowed, but I have a personal account here that should have enough to cover this. Is there any way I can transfer the money from that account over and then cash the check?”

“I’m not sure …” the teller started to say, but the manager held up a finger.

“Have you transferred money between the two accounts before?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, If there is enough in your personal account and you're transferring it over to the drafting account, it should be okay. Let me get the information for that account so I can pull up your information. Do you have your debit card?”

“Sure,” I said, handing it over and putting the pin in the little reader on my side of the counter.

She tapped a few seconds, her brow furrowing, and said, “This account is also empty. It looks like it was emptied on the same day.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, a little huffily.

“I’m sorry, that wasn’t directed at you. Both accounts are empty?”

“Yes.”

I stood there for a second, thinking, as the manager and teller looked at me, waiting.

“Sir?” she said finally, prodding me.

“Uhh, I guess I’ll be back,” I said, taking the deposit slip, the check, and my card back.

My mind was reeling as I stepped out of the bank. I was an idiot. I should have pulled all my money out already. I knew Dad had access to the accounts and I knew he was getting served with the summons, but it never occurred to me that he’d do this. He hadn’t taken out any more money after that first time, so I just assumed that he’d realized he shouldn’t do that. What a naive idiot I was.

Worse, I wasn’t sure he wouldn’t be able to keep taking my money. I could probably work something out with Chef, but the record company paid us monthly, and we’d set it up to direct deposit the money into that account. If they sent me a check, I couldn’t cash it and I couldn’t very well ask for an envelope stuffed with cash. If it worked anything like the advance, they would send a notice to Mom when the money was paid, so Dad would know exactly when to pull it out. This would be our first payment since the record dropped, and should be our biggest payment so far, and Dad was going to take it all.

Marco was going to absolutely flip his lid.

After standing in front of the bank for an uncomfortably long time, mentally beating myself up, I got moving again. My first call was to Mr. Eaves. I was pretty sure I knew what he was going to tell me, but I needed to confirm, and Chef was paying him to be my lawyer, so I might as well get my money’s worth.

“Hi, Charlie. I thought I might hear from you earlier this week,” he said when his secretary put me through to him. “The way you described him, I thought there was a chance your father might do something rash. I’m glad things didn’t get physical. Do you have some more questions?”

“I thought I got lucky too, but Dad went in a different direction. He emptied the band's bank account andmy personal bank account on Monday. Everything’s gone.”

“Is he a signer on the account?”

“My mother is.”

“So presumably, your mother pulled out the money at his direction.”

“Yeah. Is there any chance I can get that money back? I have a check from this weekend and I need to pay the band. I don’t want to just put it in the account, because as soon as he knows there’s money in there, I’m betting he’ll pull it out too.”

“If she’s a full signer on the account, then there’s probably not anything we can do immediately to get the money back. We can put it in your emancipation filing and even ask the judge to order it to be repaid, but you’re their dependent, you have a history of giving money to your mother, and you didn’t file any kind of protest when he took the money the first time, so I doubt the judge will award you anything.”

“That was a lot of money, at least for me. Are you saying it’s just gone?”

“Probably.”

“Shit. What about the money I should be getting paid next week or this check I have now? The one next week will be a direct deposit in that account for our record sales this month, and Dad knows when it’s coming. If he emptied the accounts, he’ll probably pull that out too. I don't know if he’s just trying to hurt me or if he thinks this will keep me from paying for an attorney so that I would have to drop the emancipation petition, but I know he isn’t done.”

“You shouldn’t deposit any more money into that account, that’s for sure. Can you talk to Chef about paying you directly in cash?”

“I can, and he’ll probably do it, but that doesn’t do anything about the money coming in from the label. It helps to be able to keep getting paid by Chef, but the record money is probably going to be a lot more.”

“You’re going to have to call them and see if they can mail you a check, although your parents might be able to veto that and change it back.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Is there anyone you trust at the label? You could explain the situation to them and see if there is anything they can do. They might not be able to, but it can’t hurt to ask.”

“Except they’re already exasperated with me because of my dad’s demands and are considering dropping me from the label. I’m trying very hard to keep from causing any more problems.”

“I get that, but your other option is to let them deposit the money as usual, and hope you can get to the bank to withdraw it before he does. I’m sorry, but there aren’t a lot of good choices here, and I can’t tell you what to do. This is something you’re going to have to decide for yourself.”

“I know. I guess I was just hoping you had some special lawyer tactic to keep him from taking all the money.”

“Not in this situation, no. As of now, your parents are your guardians and are signers on everything for you. They have full access, and that can’t be taken away until you are emancipated. If this was a debt issue or some kind of lawsuit, I could freeze the accounts, but that isn’t an option in an emancipation petition.”

“Okay. Thanks for hearing me out.”

“It’s what I’m being paid to do. Talk to Chef and consider calling your label. It’s your only real option at this point.”

“Okay,” I said and hung up.

I was well and truly screwed!