"Hey Logan," I greeted, forcing a friendly smile, "What's up?"

He looked shocked, then like he was in a trance, "Hey, angel,"

"Um…" I blushed, not sure how to respond to that, "Alright…so what's up?"

"Ah! Mercy?" he suddenly looked like he snapped out of his trance.

"Yes?" I responded, a little nervous from his response.

"Oh…right!" He got up from his seat, dropping all his books, "H-hi! Ah! My books…ugh…"

I bent down to help pick them up and saw a flier for Kill Joy's (my favorite local band) show that night.

"Hey!" I said, picking the yellow, recycled paper up, "You like Kill Joy, too?"

"Umm…" he uneasily scratched the back of his neck, "I'm…kind of…in…Kill Joy,"

I stared at him for a moment, "No way!" I slapped my forehead, "No wonder you look so familiar! Oh God…you're the lead guitarist and singer, aren't you?"

He grinned sheepishly, "Yeah," he nodded, "Pretty much."

My eyes widened in excitement, "Oh my God! What are the chances I'd meet my favorite band's head honcho here?" I'd have to thank June later, "You know, I love that song, Lily. It's so tragic…and beautiful…"

He winced, "Yeah…"

I thought I might've mentioned something he didn't want to talk about, so I changed the subject, "So…" I began, "Your gonna introduce me to the band now, right?" I smiled jokingly.

"Sure," he said with slight uneasiness. Or was it nervousness? I couldn't tell. Then he said, "We have band practice today, after school…so…um…well, if you'd like to tag along I'd be no problem,"

I was taken a little by surprise as to why he would ask me this, but I didn't want to be rude, nor did I want to lie to him.

"Sure, I'll tag along," I replied cheerily. I didn't have to feign my joy this time. It was real.

His eyes lit up, "Great!" he hesitated, "Ah…I mean…that's cool, that's cool. I'll see you after school, then."

We said our good-byes and turned away. I could feel some strange, giddy feeling fluttering about in my stomach and I was considering going to the nurse's office when June came along and practically pounced me as she bombarded my with a flurry of questions.

"Mercy! Did you talk to Logan? What'd he say? What's he like? Is he cuter up close? Don't his eyes have the most magnificent shade of emerald? Oh, how does he sound? Is he all gruff and manly or suave and confident sounding? Huh? Please, tell me everything!"

I laughed, "Calm down, June. We only talked for a couple minutes. It turns out he's in the band Kill Joy,"

She made a confused face, "Who?"

I rolled my eyes, "It's this local rock band that I just so happen to love. I guess you wouldn't know since you only listen to that mainstream rap and hip-hop crap,"

"Excuse me," June took offense to this joke, "It is not crap. If it was then why would more than half of America's population listen to it? And I am open-minded, you know!" then she added, "From now on, lend me all your rock CDs, okay?"

I sighed. June could be such a pain sometimes. But what can I do? She's my best friend…and I have to accept the good and the bad in her. Right?

"Alright, alright. Sure, June." I gave in.

"Thank you," She looked pleased, "So, what else did you and Logan discuss?"

I shrugged, "Nothing really. Oh! But he did…" I stopped mid-sentence involuntarily. Why I suddenly lost the ability to tell June what Logan and I agreed to was beyond me. I was talking to him because of June, anyway. Wasn't I?

"But he…what?" June demanded.

"He…" I hesitated, then finally blurted out, "He invited me to his band practice."

June's chocolate eyes turned hazel, which I learned, after the many years of our friendship, meant she was ecstatic, "Mercy! Do you know what this means?"

"Umm…" I nervously replied.

"I am finally going to talk to Logan. This is my chance! Oh my God…Thank you, Mercy! Thank you!"

She gave me a tight hug and raced off to who-knows-where.

What was up with that? What did she mean…? Ah…right. She expects me to bring her along with me. Well, duh. I mean…what else did I expect? Her to say, "Oh, that's nice that you're going to go see him after school. While you do that I'll stay home a knit a sweater for you." Hell no. Of course she'd want to come along.

Then so come I felt so…disappointed?

I tried to shake the feeling off. There was no reason for me to feel sad. I should be happy. My best friend will be getting closer to the guy she likes. That's what I was trying to do in the first place…right?

This strange, hollow feeling ate at me all through my classes. I couldn't even focus during Literature, my favorite subject in the world. Leon had to nudge me out of my zombie-like daze and get me on track more than a few times.

After the last period bell rang and dismissed the class from literature, Leon cut me off from exiting, "Hey Mercy," he began, concern etched across his face, "You okay? You seem really…out of it."

I feigned a smile, "Huh? Oh! I'm fine. I'm just a little tired. I stayed up late last night trying to beat that one video game, Last Judgement." Now that was a complete lie.

Leon looked suddenly relieved, "Oh that's good." Then he smiled, "So how far did you get in Last Judgement?"

Oh God. I don't even own the game. "Uh…not very far…"

"Did you pass the part at the chapel where you have to…"

I saw June behind Leon, waving for my attention. Hallelujah.

"Ah…Leon, I have to go. June is calling me," I raced off before he could protest and I joined June in the hallway.

"Let's go," I linked her arm with mine and hurriedly walked out of the building, not wanting Leon to have a chance to catch up with us. For some reason, I felt ashamed of him knowing where I was going. June didn't mind the speedy exit; she preferred it.

We exited the building and Logan was already there, waiting. He looked surprised to see June joyously trotting behind me. And was that…a hint of annoyance I saw? Before I could further contemplate he said,

"Uh…hey,"

"Hi!" June stepped in front of me and gave him a brief wave with her perfect little tanned hands, "I'm June."

"Hi." He continued to look confusedly at me and for the moment I despised myself for letting June come along.

"Um…" I struggled for words under his bewildered expression, "This is my best friend June. She's…into your music, too, so she wanted to come along." I bit my lip, "I hope…that's okay?"

Is it just me or did I see a hint of disappointment in his face? Eh. I'm probably delirious.

He nodded.

"Yeah. It's no problem at all."

The band practice was at his friend's house and it was just a few blocks away from school. I could already hear the drums when we reached the neighborhood.

When we arrived there I was excited to find them already in action. The drummer looked like a poser Travis Barker with his neon green mohawk and exaggerated drumming movements.

"Ah!" June yelped, "The drum's so loud!"

"Yep," Logan replied, hands in pockets, "They tend to do that."

I was starting to get giddy. This was already extremely entertaining and Logan hasn't even picked up his guitar. The rhythm guitarist's 70's style hair and the bassist's emo cut and thick rimmed glasses made me want to laugh out loud. How did this mess of generations happen?

I was too blissful to notice June's sour face when Logan picked up his guitar and started making up brilliant notes, flowing into a lead tune and adding to the beautiful chaos of music resonating through out the suburban neighborhood.

Logan grabbed the microphone and crooned,

"Homemade heart grenades

and our tantalizing charades.

White marches and black parades,

singing our suicidal serenades."

Ah! My favorite song!

"Your mind a cryptic labyrinth maze,

leaving me in a quixotic daze.

I see only you through the thick haze.

Don't dare tell me it's just a phase."

I began singing along to myself, and Logan and I exchanged grins as my voice and confidence grew louder, in tune with his.

"Whisper more of your lullabies

I crave your touch; you paralyze,"

Then something totally queer and uncalled for happened.

Logan handed me the mic.

I looked at him quizzically and he gave me his soon-to-be signature Cheshire grin as the drums and guitar reached its climax, bleeding into the chorus.

I sang,

"You're ecstasy; you're lithium;

you're my morphine.

Your euthanasia; euphoria;

you set me free."

I could feel the blood and the guitar chords and Logan's solo and the drumbeats and the ebullience pulsing through me as I ended,

"Lily.

Set me free."

Then something equally queer and uncalled for happened.

Everyone stopped playing. It was a slow, steady, fading stop and I looked at them nervously, finding them with dumb-founded expressions directed solely at me.

"Was I that bad?" I broke the tension-filled silence.

The wannabe-Travis drummer was the first to break out of the stunned daze, "No."

Then the emo bassist, "Girly, you were…you were…"

"Great," the Twisted Sister lookalike finished.

I looked at Logan and I wondered if he'd ever move.

He blinked a few times.

"No. She's wasn't great." He finally said.

Did I just detect a smirk from June?

"She was incredible." Logan smiled at me and I thought I felt my heart melt.

And I thought I also saw June's smirk melt to a pout.

"Mercy," Logan held me by the shoulders and I slightly blushed at the contact (but why?), "Join our band."

What was up with today and queer, uncalled for occurrences?

I was puzzled, "What?" I shook my head, "I'm not even a good singer."

"What are you smoking?" the rhythm guitarist asked, "That was fucking beautiful."

What? But June had always told me I was too loud and I obnoxiously stood out.

"But…but I don't want to be taking over your job, Logan…"

Logan chuckled, "Mercy, all I'm concerned about it this band, and this band needs you."

"Well…" I wanted to say yes. I should say yes. But these weird death glares June is shooting at me makes me suddenly stop.

"Mercy," June interrupts, "Could you come help me find my lip gloss? I think I dropped it outside or something. Sorry."

"Um…sure." I followed outside.

"Mercy," she looked at me solemnly, "Tell Logan that you'll only join it if I can join."

I cringed. Why? Why would I do that? That's stupid. June can't sing. She can't play an instrument. She doesn't even like the band: She doesn't even like rock music! "Uh…sure." I answered.

Fuck.

June looked suddenly happier, "Oh! Thank you!"

She gave me a tight hug and we walked back inside the garage.

"Turns out I had it all along," she laughed as we entered.

"Logan…" I couldn't meet his eyes as I said, "I'll join…"

He looked ecstatic,

"If June can join, too."

His joyous look fell to something I thought I saw earlier, when I told Logan that June would be tagging along.

"Hey, man," the bassist spoke up, "If we're going to have a girl in our band, it has to be only one."

"Yeah," posers Twisted Sister and Travis Barker agreed in unison.

"I could…manage stuff!" June chirped in.

"Logan already does all that stuff, babe," the drummer pointed out.

"It's cool," Logan said, nonchalantly, "If it means Mercy sings for us, then June can manage."

"One more hot chick can't do anymore harm, right?"

They all laughed at Wannabe Travis Barker's comment, but they were wrong.

Oh so wrong.