40Chapter 6: Dreading School
I finally shoved my way through the entire crowd and reached my friends, who were up front by the stage. I tapped Reese on the shoulder to let her know I was now with them, and she turned and greeted me with raised eyebrows. "Who was that?" She shouted over the music. I shrugged my shoulders and unleashed a wide smile. She stared at me for a moment before turning her attention back to the stage.
For the next half hour we watched the performances of a sweet sounding John Mayer type with horribly big ears and a group of three boys who seemed to still be stuck in a time when leopard printed stretch pants were cool and hair bands ruled. After a few minutes of closed curtain while the next band set up, the scraggly twenty-something announcer slinked back on stage. He gripped the mic tightly as he asked us to give a warm welcome to a local group known for their insane solos and rockin' music, "RANDOLPH!"
Fletcher was the first to take his position on stage. He wore an enormous grin, with his curling reddish-brown hair falling across his face as he leaned over and picked up his most prized possession, an American Standard fender strat with noiseless pickups, (whatever that meant) and a rosewood neck (all I could say when he had told me that was that it was "pretty.") He had paid just under a thousand dollars for the guitar, and it had taken him seven months of saving every penny of his paycheck from his parent's grocer and sandwich shop.
Dane, the bass player followed. He was short and stocky, and I had never actually heard him speak. Brett, a great singer and lyric writer, soon followed He only actually played a few guitar chords, but he still found away to strum at least a little each song. Lucas tumbled out last, stealing the show as usual. Fletcher's grin only widened, and finally, after Lucas had reached his seat at the drum kit, they began to play. Their first song was a revamped cover of an old Bob Dylan song, overdone. But the next was something new, something they had written and I had never heard before. The beat was great, almost Latin, and although the sound was still clearly what I was used to hearing from Randolph, their style, Fletch's guitar solo sounded vaguely like Santana. Personally, I like to sing; I never shut up, so I immediately fell in love with Brett's lyrics. It was the typical teenage angst song, unrequited love and all that, but the way it was written was so poetic.
The band played two more songs, some of their older stuff that I had already heard a thousand times before, and knew by heart. When they were done the crowd was really loud. There was screaming from all around and the roar of clapping, and I realized they actually had a chance to win the battle. There appeared to be a panel of judges near the back of Stix where the DJ usually sat, and they were furiously scribbling down their thoughts. The band took a dramatic bow, and the curtain fell.
"Wow!" I yelled at Lexi. "That was great! Have you heard that new one, 'Forgettable Love' before?" She shook her head in reply, and was about to say something when Fletcher himself was beside us. I turned to him enthusiastically. "That was awesome Fletch!"
"Yeah?," He was obviously pleased that the performance had gone so well.
"I loved 'Forgettable Love,' your guitar was great, especially that last solo near the end."
Fletcher didn't respond. He had an odd look on his face, and he stared me up and down. "What are you wearing?" He seemed shocked to see me in a sleeveless dark green satin top and a denim skirt I had changed into right before the concert, instead of a tent-like Patriots t-shirt and jeans.
"Oh," I felt a blush begin to bloom across my face. Fletcher wasn't looking at me the way that Rob had looked at me, with playful admiration. All of the sudden, without him saying a word I felt like I was standing alone under a blinding FBI interrogation light, like I had to defend the fact that my clothes weren't hideous. "I went shopping when I was staying with Suze in New York."
"Wow Fletcher, that was great!" A girl I didn't know had made her way to Fletcher's side, and was beaming at him as if he were the second coming of the messiah.
"Claire! Thanks, I hope the judges like it."
"Don't be modest," She giggled, and I tried to keep my mouth from falling open in surprise, "Of course they will!" She touched Fletcher's arm lightly and made her way off into the crowd. Since when did he have groupies?
Fletcher shifted the gaze of his light brown eyes back to me. "You have groupies now?" I asked incredulously.
His toothy grin was back, the moment of awkwardness disappearing. "Of course I have groupies. Every great musician has groupies."
"And you consider yourself a great musician?" I dryly inquired.
"Oh come on," He was bobbing his head and smirking like the devil, "You saw us on that stage. It was magic baby, the stuff of Shakespeare, we friggin' rocked…"
"Oh shut up."
"So," he began to ask, now vaguely sincere, "how was…."
Lucas cut him off by flying out of nowhere and throwing his arms wildly around me in an unexpected embrace that knocked the air out of me. "How we've missed you love!" I gasped for air. And my eyes met Fletch's, calling out for him in a silent horrified plea. "How was your summer?" Lucas finally untangled his limbs and took a step back before Fletcher had to take action. "Was the force with you?"
"Umm," I paused to catch my breath and tried not to laugh, "The force was definitely with me. I had a great summer."
"Wonderful!." He exclaimed, and then he was off, gone to practice his eccentricities near someone else.
My eyes headed toward the stage as the metallic curtain began to lift. Our host was back, welcoming another band.
It was midnight before all the band were through. My friends and I enjoyed short snatches of conversation in between bands and songs, but for the most part, we saved the deep discussions for later and waited impatiently for the final announcement, who won?
After the last band was done the judges spent another fifteen minutes deliberating, and then it was time for the final announcement. There were five judges, and the one in the center stood up. He was a balding chubby man, and he held a loose mic in his meaty fingers as he proclaimed that the Mr. Potatoheads had stolen third place, winning a fifty dollar gift certificate to a local music shop.
"And in second place," His weary nasal voice filled the club, "winning eight hours of actual studio time and $500 to spend at the Rock Room… Rudolph."
"Oh my god!." I was jumping up and down, we all were.
Fletcher's other band members had joined us, and even Dane was inspired to comment on the situation. "Awesome."
The actual winner of the battle and of two days studio time and professional editing, as well as $1000 to the Rock room was a band that had played before I arrived. A little anticlimactic, but fitting, since I hadn't heard anyone better than Rudolph since I had appeared at Stix.
I moaned. Someone was bouncing on my bed. I buried my face in my pillow. "O ayay.."
"What?" Lexi continued to bounce on my bed.
"Oh anay." I groaned.
"Amy, I can't hear you when you speak into your pillow like that." I twisted violently in my bed so I was facing the ceiling. "I said 'GO AWAY'."
Lexi sighed. "You don't mean that."
I glanced at my digital alarm clock, 10:00 in the morning, I hadn't fallen asleep until three last night. "Of course I mean it."
"No you don't." She called in a sing-song voice, waving an opened enveloped above her head. Thank God the bouncing had stopped.
My interest was piqued. I sat up, " What's that?" I squinted my eyes, it was hard to see without my contacts in, but I could just barely make out a blurry little black sailboat on the envelope, our school insignia.
"Our schedules arrived."
"This early?" Since when did the mailman deliver in the morning?
"No, I found it on my kitchen table with yesterday's mail. C'mon, don't you want to know if we have any classes together?" She bounced again in her excitement, and I took a moment to glare at her.
"I guess." I fell back against my sheets. " But you can go look for it yourself, because I can definitely wait an hour to know, I am not moving from this bed."
"You are so lazy!"
I did not honor this observation with a response, I simply snuggled farther into my warm sheets, pulling my down comforter up to my chin.
"Fine." She gave up, and I felt the weight on my bed lighten as she stood up and padded out of my bedroom.
She returned only a few moments later. She sat down at my desk without lifting her eyes to look at me. She was intently studying a sheet of blue paper, which after a few minutes she finally handed to me. "It's okay, we have World History and Accel English 10 together."
I took the paper from her and studied it myself. There was a list of classes, followed by teacher's names and the number of the rooms in which they would be held:
Accel Biology- Lewis, Mitchell
Spanish III- Guzman, Carmen
World History- Keller, William
Honors Choir- Gilbert, Sharon
Algebra II- Taylor, Peter
English 10- Accel Leary, Michelle
Study Hall
Drawing II- Barkely, Nick
Lexi, who hadn't bothered to change out of her PJs, began to drag her fingers through her messy honey-blonde hair absentmindedly as she watched me. "Jess is in Algebra, Bio and art with you, she and Felicia are also in History with us. I think Felicia's in Spanish with you too."
I stared at Lexi. "How do you remember all that?"
She shrugged. "Fletcher's also in history with us, but I don't think you two have any other classes together."
I bit my lip, considering what this year would be like. "How about Reese?"
Lexi blushed a little, and pulled both purple-socked feet up onto my desk chair, wrapping her arms around her knees. "I didn't think she'd like it if I woke her up."
I glowered at her. "Because I was thrilled about it."
"Well," she said, "let's be honest, you're a lot less scary than Reese when she first wakes up in the morning."
"Fine, I suppose you're right." I paused, and a brilliant idea popped into my head. "Let's make pancakes!"
Lexi was up for the challenge, so I threw off my warm, cozy blankets and set my feet on the cool carpet. I was wearing a pair of oversized ripped PJ bottoms that I had owned since eighth grade and I pulled on a pair of fuzzy polka-dotted slipper-socks.
Lexi followed me into the kitchen, where we stirred eggs, milk and Bisquick into a large bowl and plugged in my flat pancake oven. Evan strode into the room just as I was pouring the soupy batter onto the oven to make the first pancake. "What are you doing?" Ignoring him, I moved on to the other side and began pouring another enormous pancake. Lexi followed behind me, dropping chocolate chips into this one to form a smiley face.
"You have got to be kidding me."
I continued to ignore him.
"I thought you were health conscious now."
I finally lifted my eyes to him, popping a chocolate chip in my mouth as my gaze met his. "I am health-conscious now. I plan to definitely work out for twice as long today."
"Sure, keep telling yourself that. Just don't stuff your face so much that there's none left for me, okay?" he reached for the bag of chocolate chips, which was lying ripped open on the counter.
I smacked his hand away. "I might have, if you hadn't said that."
"Oh come on." He suddenly looked pleading.
"Ummmm," I heard Sam's wistful moan before I saw him. "Pancakes!"
"Okay," I was such a softie. "I'll save some for you." Hmmm, wait a minute, Evan looked desperate for those pancakes, maybe I had something to bargain with here. "But you have to drive me to school and home, and no making me take the bus because you're going over some girls house."
"Fine," Evan hesitated as his hand headed for the chips again, and he snatched a peak at me to see if I was poised to hit him again. He acted so tough, if he was, than he was the only tough guy I knew who was afraid of his little sister. I allowed him to take a handful of the sweets. "But if you are late, I reserve the right to leave without you after school, I don't want to be behind the buses."
"Deal."
Sam stuffed a handful of chocolate chips in his mouth, and I held back a smile. It was good to be home.
It turned out Reese was also in history with us, as well as in Drawing and Spanish with me. I was grateful both she and Felicia would be beside me in my worst subject, foreign language. I needed all the help I could get. "Please tell me you're going to help me this year."
Reese didn't bother to respond, she just sipped her mocha latte as her eyes continued to scan the pages of Oliver Twist, summer reading which had been put off until the last minute. Felicia, who had been forced by her parents finish over two weeks before, answered me. "Of course."
It was a few days later, and Felicia, Reese and I were sitting in the back room of Fletcher's parent's general store drinking coffee from their recently acquired latte machines. I myself had a chai tea. The store, though small and not necessarily the hip hangout, was our favorite spot. As Fletcher's good friends, we were always assured of free food and drink. I was trying to come to terms with the knowledge that school was going to start tomorrow. I shuddered at the thought; homework, class work, Spanish, Algebra… the kind of things that give teenagers nightmares. Tomorrow it would all begin.