know, I didn’t hear.” He starts on my neck again. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Wait,” I say, trying to disentangle my body from his. I haven’t mentioned anything about our little band to Scott. I’m not entirely sure even now if I really intend to be a part of it. Still, I guess I’ve been expecting that if I
do
tell Scott, he’ll be pleased. “I want to know what he’s mad about.”
“Why is it important right now? It’s stupid.”
“Not to me it isn’t.” I scoot away and sit up, both relieved and disappointed.
A moment later, Scott sits up too. In the moonlight I watch him rub his eyes. “Okay, okay,” he sighs. “Brenigan told Dean today that we don’t get to play the full night at the Bash.”
“So?”
“So that’s probably what Ray was pissed about. We all are. You know that girl Stella Penn? The one with the green buzz cut? Well, I guess she told Brenigan she has a band, and crazy old Mrs. Reznik is in on it. Anyway, the two of them got Mr. Brenigan to agree to give this so-called band half our time.”
I nod slowly, trying to look sympathetic. I have to tread carefully. “Is that . . . really such a big deal?”
“Of course. He’s a complete idiot.”
“Why?”
“Well, because Stella’s a freak. Haven’t you noticed?” He scoots closer to me again and starts planting gentle kisses all over the side of my neck. It feels so good I don’t try to stop him. Still, I can’t help thinking about how only this afternoon Stella and I were hanging around together. Somebody left a fashion magazine under one of the desks, and while we waited for Charlie to pack his drums neatly away in the corner of the music room she and I took turns drawing facial hair on the models. By the time Charlie was done, the two of us were practically hysterical over a bikinied blonde we’d turned into a pirate, complete with a mustache, a goatee and an eye patch. The parrot that Stella drew on her shoulder was particularly hilarious.
“I don’t know,” I say. “I’ve talked to her. She may be a little different, but she seems all right to me.”
“Yeah, sure.”
By now he’s been working on my neck so long that I worry he might leave a hickey. I wiggle away. “So anyway, have you heard who’s in this band?”
“Not really,” he says. “I only know about Stella and that loser Charlie Hirsh. Oh, and Olivia Whitehead. Now there’s a real whack job.”
I ignore that. “Nobody else?”
“Why do you care?” He slowly runs his finger down the back of my blouse, sending a wave of electricity through me. “Those kids are nothing. The guys and I are going to blow those freaks away. Come on, let’s not talk about this anymore. We’re wasting time.” I feel his hand try to reach under my shirt again.
“Well,” I say, twisting away, “I was waiting to surprise you with this but, the thing is . . .” He follows me across the sand and puts his face directly in front of mine, his smile betraying only a hint of impatience. “. . .
I’m
one of those freaks.”
Even in the darkness I can see his eyebrows draw together. He stares at me for a second and then pulls back.
“We haven’t agreed on a name yet or anything—but we’re not bad, actually. You should hear us.”
He keeps staring. “You’re kidding, right?”
“It’ll be fun. We get to share the same stage on the same night. Isn’t that great?”
“Oh, yeah,” he says. “That’s just . . . wonderful.”
“But I thought you’d be
happy.
”
He shakes his head like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Look, Mo, it isn’t that I care about you being in a band. It’s just that I’m pissed off that
this
band is taking half our night from us.”
I try to give him a playful smile. “So it’s
your
night, is it?”
“Yes. Well, it was supposed to be anyway, until Brenigan carved it up. We had big plans for this year’s Bash. I think you should tell Stella and the others to back off.”
“I don’t
“Wait,” I say, trying to disentangle my body from his. I haven’t mentioned anything about our little band to Scott. I’m not entirely sure even now if I really intend to be a part of it. Still, I guess I’ve been expecting that if I
do
tell Scott, he’ll be pleased. “I want to know what he’s mad about.”
“Why is it important right now? It’s stupid.”
“Not to me it isn’t.” I scoot away and sit up, both relieved and disappointed.
A moment later, Scott sits up too. In the moonlight I watch him rub his eyes. “Okay, okay,” he sighs. “Brenigan told Dean today that we don’t get to play the full night at the Bash.”
“So?”
“So that’s probably what Ray was pissed about. We all are. You know that girl Stella Penn? The one with the green buzz cut? Well, I guess she told Brenigan she has a band, and crazy old Mrs. Reznik is in on it. Anyway, the two of them got Mr. Brenigan to agree to give this so-called band half our time.”
I nod slowly, trying to look sympathetic. I have to tread carefully. “Is that . . . really such a big deal?”
“Of course. He’s a complete idiot.”
“Why?”
“Well, because Stella’s a freak. Haven’t you noticed?” He scoots closer to me again and starts planting gentle kisses all over the side of my neck. It feels so good I don’t try to stop him. Still, I can’t help thinking about how only this afternoon Stella and I were hanging around together. Somebody left a fashion magazine under one of the desks, and while we waited for Charlie to pack his drums neatly away in the corner of the music room she and I took turns drawing facial hair on the models. By the time Charlie was done, the two of us were practically hysterical over a bikinied blonde we’d turned into a pirate, complete with a mustache, a goatee and an eye patch. The parrot that Stella drew on her shoulder was particularly hilarious.
“I don’t know,” I say. “I’ve talked to her. She may be a little different, but she seems all right to me.”
“Yeah, sure.”
By now he’s been working on my neck so long that I worry he might leave a hickey. I wiggle away. “So anyway, have you heard who’s in this band?”
“Not really,” he says. “I only know about Stella and that loser Charlie Hirsh. Oh, and Olivia Whitehead. Now there’s a real whack job.”
I ignore that. “Nobody else?”
“Why do you care?” He slowly runs his finger down the back of my blouse, sending a wave of electricity through me. “Those kids are nothing. The guys and I are going to blow those freaks away. Come on, let’s not talk about this anymore. We’re wasting time.” I feel his hand try to reach under my shirt again.
“Well,” I say, twisting away, “I was waiting to surprise you with this but, the thing is . . .” He follows me across the sand and puts his face directly in front of mine, his smile betraying only a hint of impatience. “. . .
I’m
one of those freaks.”
Even in the darkness I can see his eyebrows draw together. He stares at me for a second and then pulls back.
“We haven’t agreed on a name yet or anything—but we’re not bad, actually. You should hear us.”
He keeps staring. “You’re kidding, right?”
“It’ll be fun. We get to share the same stage on the same night. Isn’t that great?”
“Oh, yeah,” he says. “That’s just . . . wonderful.”
“But I thought you’d be
happy.
”
He shakes his head like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Look, Mo, it isn’t that I care about you being in a band. It’s just that I’m pissed off that
this
band is taking half our night from us.”
I try to give him a playful smile. “So it’s
your
night, is it?”
“Yes. Well, it was supposed to be anyway, until Brenigan carved it up. We had big plans for this year’s Bash. I think you should tell Stella and the others to back off.”
“I don’t
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