She's Only Seventeen: A Novel of Sex, Drugs and Rock & Roll

She’s Only Seventeen

By: K.M. Ellis

She’s Only Seventeen

By: K.M. Ellis

July 1980

The thought had never crossed my mind as I glanced over to the lanky, almost fourteen year old girl, at my side. Her head down, she seemed so far away, perhaps lost in thought. I didn’t know what to say to her, none of us did. She caught my eyes on her.

“Where are we going now, Gare?’

“You’re going to come and stay with me for a little while, love,” I replied

“But where?” she pressed.

“Kathryn,” I paused, thinking what I would say to her.

She looked back down to the ground, not expecting me to answer.

“Alright, it seems everything is in order here,” the lawyer in front of me spoke finally. I started to stand. “You’ll have to just sign here… and here,” he said pointing to various spots on the piece of paper presented before me. The pen shook in my hand,
Was I ready for this kind of commitment?
The girl beside me looked over to me again; her caramel eyes rimmed red with lack of sleep. A pang of pity went through me; it would be selfish not to help her out. After all, she was Pete’s daughter and Pete… Pete was not coming back for her. My hand moved across the paper as I initialed where I had been told. “Looks like everything is all set,” Pete’s lawyer voiced, “Congratulations, young lady,” he said as he turned to her, “you’ve got yourself a place to stay.”

Kathryn “Kat”-

September 1980

The man I knew as my father was as much of a stranger as the people passing me on the street. He was never warm to me, not in the years that I had known him. Nor was he a kind man either. He left my mother and I, poor and alone, to the point where we were living off of basically nothing…now they were both gone. Fucking Pete Crowne and his high and mighty bull shit. He had been dead five years before my mother bit the bullet. As I child I was isolated from the rest, I wouldn’t have said that I was different, I was just treated differently because of my situation which was unique to other children my age. My father had been a drummer in a band called
Charlotte
. My mother was your typical small town girl from Mississippi, ironically named Charlotte. Fate or coincidence, my father’s band stopped to play in her town. My father had been a notorious womanizer, so many women went to his shows hoping to hook up with him, but when my father saw my mother, something inside him changed. Her “girl next door” beauty was something rarely seen where he was from. It had to be destiny, after all, she did have the same name as his band; wasn’t that enough of a sign? Within 6 months of meeting, they were married and had a baby on the way. That baby was me. In November of 1966, I arrived into the world. From the time I was a baby I loved music, my mother used to tell me that I would lie in my crib listening to my father’s band on an old record and fall asleep. When I would cry, all my mother had to do was play his band and somehow it would soothe me. As soon as I could talk, I could sing. I would sing anything that I heard, watching television with me was impossible as a child. My parents, recognizing my talent, decided to have me trained properly, thus starting my isolation from others my age. I had the perfect life with my parents until I turned eight. The rock star life proved to be too much for my mother so she asked my father for a divorce. My father had gone back to his old ways, drinking and womanizing, the past few years, making my mother lonely and distraught. She didn’t want to put up with anymore hurt, I was angry at her then but now I understand. Who would want to go through that? I left with my mother. I think it broke my father’s heart seeing me choose her over him. For four long months we lived in hotel rooms and then finally my grandmother’s old house in Mississippi.

My father tried to get into contact with my mother because he felt that an eight year old, almost nine, shouldn’t be living like I was. He had no other family and I think he was lonely. I had thought my parents’ divorce was the worst thing that could ever happen to me at that time in my life, but I was so wrong. In December of 1975 my father committed suicide, leaving us everything. Many have tried to solve the mystery of why he did it, all have failed. He never left a note or a clue, only memories and a puzzle which I will never solve. Some believe it was a way to get my mother’s attention, almost a cry for help. After all, my mother had been the love of his life and he had ruined it. At the funeral I could only think about how I never got to say goodbye. I vowed to myself that I would never commit such a selfish act.

My mother became a different person after my father died. Once beautiful Charlotte’s body grew thinner, dangerously thin, and her once smooth hair, which I so loved playing with, became dry and unmanageable. I believe she truly loved my father, much more than she ever let anyone know. She started drinking that year. Finally in 1980 when I was about to be fourteen, the alcohol got the best of her and she too succumbed to the dark secrets of death
And now Gary, Gary who I hardly knew, Gary who decided to take me to live with him as my legal guardian. He didn’t plan on keeping me around that much though, he sent me to a boarding school, much different than any school I had ever been to before. At this “school” I found myself isolated once again by my peers. Some were curious and tried to befriend me because of my father, but most stayed their distance and let me be. I found the most comfort in my music classes. Music awakened a part of me which helped me to close off myself from the world. It seemed I wasn’t alone in this realization. A couple months after I started my schooling, Thomas arrived. He was a year older than me at almost fifteen. He had piercing blue eyes and the blackest hair I had ever seen. Thomas was a trouble maker from the start and I suppose that’s what brought on our friendship. As teachers deemed me more difficult to work with, the more time I spent outside of the classroom.

My friendship with Thomas began through music.

“I didn’t like your father’s music much,” he said to me one day.

I turned slowly to him, the sun blinding me in my left eye. Squinting, I managed to ask him why.

“Well I liked his early stuff, you know, the better stuff.”

“Whatever.”

“No, I mean, I’m not trying to upset you…”

“You’re not,” I said flatly.

We looked at each other for a couple seconds before he continued. “His earlier stuff had heart, it had feeling. After a while, it just seemed empty.” Thomas turned and started to walk away, his cigarette hanging from the side of his mouth.

“Wait,” I shouted after him. He turned with an amused look in his eyes. “I’m Kat,” I stated shyly. “Thomas,” he replied, putting his hand out like we were businessmen making a deal. He then took his hand away and ran it through his shaggy ebony hair.

“Are you going to class”? He asked, his blue eyes interrogating me.

“Nope.”

Thomas laughed aloud, “Me either.” He turned back around and started to walk away. I stood watching him go. “Are you coming?” he asked suddenly turning around slightly. Did I have a choice?

Thomas—

September 1980

The first time I heard her sing it almost brought tears to my eyes; it had been what I was waiting for. I’d never tell her that though. She didn’t even know that I had heard her and was surprised when I brought my guitar into the practice room. “You play?” she asked.

“No, I just look at it.”

Her mouth twisted in annoyance.

“Sing something again,” I asked.

“You heard me?!” she asked in a fluster.

“Yeah.”

She looked around the room.

“Well are you going to sing or not?”

“Why?” She looked confused.

“Look Kat, I’m gonna play, and you’re going to sing, ok?”

“What am I supposed to sing?”

“Anything you want, I can play pretty much anything.”

“Alright then,” she stated, her eyes narrowing as her lips curled in a sinister smile.

From then on, I was hooked, addicted almost, to her voice. I didn’t enjoy socializing with many people, but with Kat, I could confine things with her. We’d skip class on a daily basis and lay out in the sun. Her favorite spot was the oak tree. We’d sit against it and speak of our childish hopes and dreams. Sometimes she would lean her head against my shoulder and fall asleep. I began to learn about her; her childhood, her life with Gary, her fears. Neither of us had parental guidance, and so we found comfort in the fact that we weren’t really alone. Although I dreaded the Christmas vacation where I knew she would be going home, I kept thinking of ways to convince her to stay.

Kat—

November 1980

Thomas proposed to me that I join his “project.” He had begun a sort of band with his friends back home and they needed a singer. At first I laughed, totally ignoring the whole idea. After a little convincing by Thomas, I began to consider it. I met James and Ian in November, a few days before my birthday. James played the drums; his short, powerful frame was about the same height as me, and he had gray eyes which changed shades in different light. Ian could play the bass guitar and had been friends with Thomas since they were boys. Ian was Thomas’s opposite in coloring with his straw colored hair. Both of them hounded me with questions about my father, unashamed about my feelings on the matter. Finally, when we came together musically, it was a mixture of something fantastic and wonderful.

“I’m going to have to write some different songs, something to fit your voice, you know?’ Thomas stated.

“She’s got an excellent vocal range, I’m sure you can fit something from what we have.” Ian announced.

James sat in the corner, smoking a cigarette, didn’t speak on the matter but instead eyed me intently. I smiled basking in the attention of a man. I would be fourteen in a few days’ time and I had just begun to think of men in more of a sexual nature.

“….do that. What do you think, Kat” Thomas suddenly asked.

“Wait, what?” I had been staring at him; I had never noticed how attractive and demanding he was…

Thomas shook his head, looking slightly annoyed with me. “Are you even listening?”

“Yes,” I lied.

“Right, well what do you think? You wanna do this?” he asked

“Start a band?” I questioned

“I knew you weren’t listening. Yeah a band,” he sighed.

“Sure, why not?” I smiled, looking up to meet his eyes.

He smiled back.

Ian—

November 1980

I told Thomas after our practice that Kat was an excellent idea. Not only was she the daughter of Pete Crowne, but she had the voice of a siren. She was mature for her age, so I wasn’t worried about her fitting in with James and I who were a year or two older. It was her and Thomas I worried about. The way he looked at her, I had never seen it before in his eyes. I didn’t know what to make of it. Was it desire? I couldn’t blame him, although barely fourteen, the girl was a beauty, her dark wavy hair cascaded down her back and over her slight, still budding breasts. She had beautiful hazel eyes which I noted especially. Thomas was glad that Kat had won me over and agreed that we would all meet again in three days’ time.

James

November 1980

“Are you fucking her?” I asked Thomas.

He took a long whiff of his cigarette before answering.

“No, I’m not.”

I chuckled, “But you want to?”

“I didn’t say that,” he said flatly

“So?” I responded cautiously, not knowing how he would react to my prying.

He bumped a rock with his boot, kicking it across the lot. “She’s fourteen,” he said

“She won’t always be fourteen.”

He faced me, “If you’re asking me if I’m fucking her because you want to, I’m gonna say don’t do it, I’m not and I probably will never but come on, we just started something great here, let’s not ruin it.”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” I threw my hands up in surrender.

Whatever he wanted to play at, I could see right through it, he was halfway in love with her and I had just found his trigger.

Kat—

December 1980

I felt very grown up at fourteen. Although I had decided to stay during Christmas vacation, it was nothing of a break because I was so busy with the new band. We had recently decided on a name.
Neptune
. I wrote to Gary telling him of the band. His response was that he was glad I was entertaining myself. And entertaining myself I was. It wasn’t hard to get gigs in the area. James knew people, who knew people, and before we knew it, we were playing in tiny dive bars and other small venues. I moved my things out of the boarding school, as did Thomas, and we set up house with James and Ian. Gary, who had been recently notified of my abandonment of my schooling, tracked me down. The boys were in awe of Gary, who could have cared less if they were there or not. I hadn’t seen much of him since his initial “adoption” of my person. He had a life and a band of his own. His band,
Dreamer
, was almost as big as my father’s had been. Gary was the vocalist and a supposed “celeb status” by standard according to Thomas.

“Just listen to us, please?” I begged him.

“Kathryn, I’ve had people go and listen to you,” Gary snapped.