The Haters by Jesse Andrews Read Free Book Online Page A

yelled.
    â€œOH YEAH,” responded both of the sushi chefs.
    Then Corey leapt to his feet and sprinted into the bathroom to throw up, and I panicked and ran after him because I thought he was having a fatal allergic reaction, but it turns out he just literally thought it was a tongue.

9.
RETURN TO THE JAZZ GULAG
    So if this was a VH1
Behind the Music
episode, now would be the part where the narration would get all ominous, and it would go something like:
    â€œOn the evening of Monday, June 13th, Ash, Corey, and Wes were riding high. They had just made the best music of their lives and then eaten a sophisticated and challenging sushi meal. But little did they know . . . that up ahead . . . the road was
going to get super bumpy
. Because they were about to be arrested and thrown into jazz prison.”
    Okay. That’s not technically true, because jazz prison does not exist. But if there was one, we probably would have been sent to it.
    Russell, the bass teacher, stormed up to us in the dorm parking lot as we were getting out of the car.
    â€œThis is not good, you guys,” he told us. “This is really not good.”
    It turned out we weren’t allowed to leave campus unsupervised. But then why was it so easy? This was not a question he was interested in answering.
    â€œI want us to be cool,” he said, louder than I think he meant to. “But look. I gotta write you up for this. I’m sorry. I don’t want to be a cop about this whole thing. I’m a musician, like you. But I got no choice. I hope you understand.”
    I nodded sheepishly. Corey nodded sullenly. But Ash just looked him up and down.
    â€œNo,” announced Ash. “I don’t understand.”
    The way she said it brought some kind of new crazy electricity into the air.
    â€œYou don’t,” Russell repeated.
    â€œI don’t understand.”
    â€œYou do not understand.”
    â€œNope.”
    â€œYou don’t get why I can’t let
minors
off the campus, out of camp jurisdiction, just running around.”
    â€œI’m not a minor. I’m nineteen.”
    â€œOh. Okay. So, you’re saying, first of all, nineteen is an adult. And second—”
    â€œYup. Legally, an adult.”
    â€œI don’t mean legally, I mean, come on. Nineteen? Sorry. Not an adult. Second—let me finish—
second
, you’re telling me if something happens to one of these guys here, you’re trying to tell me, you’re liable. If, say,
he
gets hit by a car, or you know,
he
freaks out and, you know, runs away to join the circus, you’re liable.”
    â€œDoes that happen? Do you guys have a chronic problem of kids leaving jazz camp to join the circus?”
    â€œDon’t be smart with me. My point is,
we’re
liable, and, look. Do you think this is easy? You think having to police you guys, being responsible for you guys . . . you think that’s easy for us?”
    â€œI don’t think
any
of this is easy for you. Because I don’t think any of you want to be here.”
    Russell just stared at her. And suddenly he grinned, in this defeated, tired way.
    â€œOkay. At this point, I think you need to come with me and talk to Bill.”
    â€œWhatever you think.”
    â€œYour issues with the workshops, you need to take that up with him.”
    â€œWhatever you need to do.”
    â€œCome with me,” he said, and turned to go.
    â€œWe’re coming, too,” I heard myself say.
    Russell turned back and stared at me, like, why are you doing this. And I stared back at him.
    I was trying to make a Defiant Face, because that was obviously the face that the circumstances were calling for. But also, because I wanted to communicate to Russell that I understood that he had a tough job and wasn’t trying to be a dick, I was also trying to make an Apologetic Face.
    Russell continued staring at my increasingly unsustainable face.
    â€œAre