Small Steps by Louis Sachar Page A

have
been your best performance,” the man was saying, “but you know what the critics are going to write? ‘She’s no Janis Joplin.’ All they’re going to talk about is how you butchered her classic song!”
    “We were having fun! Rock ’n’ roll is supposed to be spontaneous!”
    “Where’d you hear that?”
    “Cotton.”
    “Cotton,” the man repeated. He glanced at Armpit and Ginny. “This area is off limits,” he said.
    “They’re my friends!” said Kaira. “I invited them.”
    The man scowled, then turned and walked away.
    “Sorry about that,” Kaira said. “So, you guys want some ice cream?”
    “Yes,” said Ginny.
    “Uh, what flavor?” asked Armpit. He didn’t know why he said that. Sometimes words seemed to come out of his mouth on their own.
    “I’ll check,” Kaira said. She opened the door to her dressing room and went inside.
    Armpit and Ginny remained in the hall.
    “Well, come in,” Kaira said to them, as if she thought they were being stupid.
    Ginny entered, followed by Armpit.
    Kaira’s bodyguard started to come in as well, but Kaira told him to wait outside.
    Armpit was surprised by how small the room was—not much bigger than a utility closet. A small couch had been squeezed in between two walls, and a miniature refrigerator sat on the floor across from it.
    Kaira opened the tiny refrigerator, and the even tinier freezer compartment, which was just big enough to hold a quart of ice cream. “It’s chocolate chip,” she told Armpit. “Is that okay?”
    “Sure, fine,” Armpit said, wishing he had never asked about the flavor.
    “I can ask David to get you something else.”
    “Chocolate chip is my favorite ice cream!” he said, trying to put an end to the subject but instead sounding like a little kid.
    Kaira scooped the ice cream into two plastic bowls and gave them each one. “Well, sit down.”
    “You should get the couch,” said Armpit. “You’re the star.”
    “Shut up,” said Kaira.
    Ginny laughed. “She told you to shut up.”
    “I know. I heard her.”
    Armpit sat on the couch next to Ginny. Kaira sat on the floor and ate her ice cream right out of the carton.
    “I always get so hungry after a show,” she said. “Before the show I’m too nervous to eat.”
    “You didn’t seem nervous,” said Armpit. “You seemed really cool.”
    Kaira laughed. “Cool? Look at me. I’m drenched in sweat. It’s gross!”
    If Armpit knew her better he might have said,
You think
you’re
sweaty. Man, you don’t know what sweat is!
But he didn’t dare say that to Kaira DeLeon.
    “Why was that man y-yelling at you?” Ginny asked.
    “Him? That’s El—my manager,” Kaira said. “He’s all pissed off ’cause of the last song. Oh, sorry, Ginny.”
    “It’s okay,” said Ginny. “I h-hear b-bad words at school.”
    “I thought that last song was great!” Armpit said.
    “Well, I don’t know about that,” said Kaira.
    “Is it a new one?” Armpit asked her.
    “You never heard it before?”
    “No.”
    “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Janis Joplin?”
    He hadn’t, but he didn’t dare admit it now. “Maybe I have,” he said.
    “If you’d heard her, you’d know. She’s like my all-time favorite singer. You know, she was born right here in Texas.”
    “Have you met her?” asked Ginny.
    “We’re all going to meet Janis someday,” said Kaira. “But it won’t be in Texas.” She turned back to Armpit. “Have you heard of the Beatles?”
    “Shut up,” he said.
    Ginny gasped, but Kaira only laughed.
    “So what grade are you in, Ginny?” Kaira asked.
    “F-fourth. I was in fourth. I’m g-going into f-fifth.”
    “Fifth grade’s great,” said Kaira. “What about you? Are you still in school?”
    “I’ll sort of be a senior in high school.”
    “Oh, yeah? What sort of senior will you be?”
    “He missed a year,” Ginny explained. “He w-was at Camp Green Lake.”
    “She doesn’t need to know about that,” said