“I don’t know,” said Yo-Yoji, laughing. “That’s either the stupidest joke I’ve ever heard or the deepest.”
“I was thinking I could try it in my Comagedy Act in the talent show — that’s what I’m calling my magic-comedy routine. How ’bout that?”
Yo-Yoji grinned. “You’re gonna kill, man!”
“Kill?” Max-Ernest looked alarmed.
“It means you’re gonna rock the talent show. It’s a good thing.”
Cass rolled her eyes. She knew she should be happy about the growing friendship (or was it only a temporary peace?) between Max-Ernest and Yo-Yoji; instead, she found it irksome.
She’d never come right out and said what she was afraid of: that Yo-Yoji had never really liked them — her — and had only befriended them because it was his job. But as far as she was concerned, Yo-Yoji was still on probation — and would be for a while.
As Yo-Yoji and Max-Ernest continued to discuss plans for the talent show, Amber and Veronica walked toward their table, glancing quickly at Yo-Yoji, giggling, then looking away.
Cass’s mouth dropped: something truly disturbing was dangling from Amber’s wrist.
“Is that your sock-monster?” asked Max-Ernest, aghast.
“No, it’s a copy — I think,” said Cass, furious and more than a bit freaked out.
“But how —?”
Cass couldn’t help it — she had to know. “Hey, Amber,” she asked, trembling slightly, “where did you get that?”
“Oh, do you like it?” asked Amber, sugary as ever, stopping at their table. “I’m not supposed to say where it’s from, but it does say Twin Hearts on it, and that’s the Skelton Sisters — oops!” She put her hand to her mouth. “I almost gave the secret away . . . ! Anyway, I was just telling Veronica, I have six tickets to their concert tomorrow night — which is totally sold out, by the way. They’re going to let me onstage — can you believe it? Do you guys want to go? Not that I can take everybody. I already have a waiting list of thirty people — but I could put you guys on it. I’m going to decide who gets to go later tonight, based on a bunch of things. I can’t say what ’cause I don’t want anyone to cheat.” She seemed to be addressing all of them but she was looking at Yo-Yoji.
“Actually, I kind of think they suck,” he replied. “So . . . no thanks.”
“Well, excuse me for being nice,” said Amber, stung.
“I told you he was a jerk,” said Veronica.
“Let’s go,” said Amber. Cass watched them walk away, each tossing her hair like a girl in a shampoo commercial. Why had she ever had a hard time saying no to Amber, Cass wondered.
And more importantly:
“Hey, you guys — why do you think the Skelton Sisters are letting her onstage? Don’t you think that’s weird? And they gave her all those tickets. . . .”
“Probably her daddy bribed them,” said Yo-Yoji. “Is she rich?”
“I dunno. I don’t think that’s it,” said Cass. In the distance, she could see Amber and Veronica disappearing into the girls’ bathroom. “I’ll be right back.”
She stood up, pulling her sweatshirt hood over her head. Checking to see nobody was watching, she took the Sound Prism out of her backpack and hid it under her hood behind her big right ear.
The window in the girls’ bathroom was small and located high up in the wall; normally, you wouldn’t be able to hear a conversation taking place inside the bathroom if you were outside. But with the Sound Prism, Cass could hear Amber and Veronica talking as clearly as if she were standing next to them. . . .
“No way, dude!” said Yo-Yoji to Cass after she returned. “Forget it! I would rather eat puke!”
“I agree — this is worst idea you’ve ever had in your life,” said Max-Ernest, putting down his two matching hummus sandwiches. “Are you sure you’re not having a psychotic episode?”
What, you ask, could prompt such extreme reactions?
Simple: Cass’s proposal that they all go to the Skelton Sisters concert the following night.
“We have to,” she insisted, pulling off her sweatshirt hood and restowing the Sound Prism in her backpack. “Amber’s like part of the Midnight Sun now. Well, maybe she’s not really in it in it yet, but she was on the boat — and Ms. Mauvais gave her a job! She wouldn’t tell Veronica what it was, but she said that was why she got the tickets and everything. And I have a feeling something bad’s going to happen. I know nobody ever believes my predictions, but trust me on this!”
“But it’s going to be the suckiest concert in history,” said Yo-Yoji. “I think I’ll get ill if I have to hear their music.”
“Yeah, or they’ll just kill us for real — I don’t mean, like, kill in a good way, I mean, like, kill kill,” Max-Ernest added, flustered. “Besides, even if we wanted to go, she said the concert was sold out. We wouldn’t be able to buy tickets. And besides that, our parents would never let us go. And besides that, it’s just totally deranged! I think you may need a doctor.”
Cass listened calmly, not telling them what she was secretly hoping: that the concert would somehow provide a way for them to prove themselves to the Terces Society once more.
“Well, I know how to get tickets — that’s not a problem,” she said.
“How?” asked Yo-Yoji.
“You.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ask for them.”
“Wait — you mean, Amber . . . ? Like, I have to ask her?”
Cass nodded. “She likes you.”
“Oh, man! Is this, like, a joke or something?” Yo-Yoji practically gagged as the full horror of it all sank in. “Now, I’m really going to be sick. Seriously, I think I’m tasting barf!”
“You don’t have a choice.” Cass lowered her voice. “It’s your duty as a society member.”
Yo-Yoji laughed. “I don’t remember getting orders to go to a concert.”
“OK, then — do it because we’re friends. I mean, if we are.”
She looked at him challengingly. This was a test, and they both knew it.
Just as Cass had anticipated, Yo-Yoji had no trouble convincing Amber to give him three tickets.
How did he do it?
I like Yo-Yoji too much to humiliate him by quoting him in full. Occasionally, we all have to eat humble pie.
As far as Cass could tell, she hadn’t been grounded since she’d been back from the mountains. She was never officially ungrounded, but she and her mother seemed to have come to some kind of unspoken agreement to drop the pretense of punishment.
But a concert — an unchaperoned concert — was another matter altogether. Cass had to draw on all her creativity to convince her mother to let her go.
First, she tried the obvious: “Yo-Yoji’s and Max-Ernest’s parents are all letting them . . . !”
“Do I look like Max-Ernest’s mom? You’re lucky I let you go anywhere these days!”
Then Cass tried playing the girl card:
“Is it because I’m a girl you don’t want me to? ’Cause that’s really sexist! I can’t believe you would be such a male chauvinist!”
“Don’t even go there, Cassandra — I was fighting sexism before you were a blink in my eye!”
Finally, she hit on it:
“Plus, Yo-Yoji’s turning thirteen tomorrow, so it’s, like, his bar mitzvah. But he’s Japanese so he’s not really having one. And the only thing he wanted to do was go to the Skelton Sisters concert with me and Max-Ernest. I can’t disappoint him. He loves the Skelton Sisters!”
A lie? Yes. But, I hope you agree, a whitish one. After all, she didn’t know for certain that it wasn’t his birthday.
As for Max-Ernest’s parents, they were delighted that he wanted to go to a concert. For years, he’d never gone anywhere; now he was practically a world traveler.
“Maybe you aren’t agoraphobic anymore!” said his mother.
“Could be you kicked that old agoraphobia!” said his father.*
In fact, they were so delighte
d that they fought over the chance to take the three kids to the stadium where the Skelton Sisters were performing.
The entrance to the stadium was so crowded the kids almost wished they had a grown-up with them to help them push through.
When they finally managed to reach the front of the line, an usher looked at their tickets suspiciously. “Row A, huh? Funny, you guys don’t look like big shots. You got famous parents or something?”
“Uh, yeah,” said Yo-Yoji.
“Really famous,” Cass added.
“I’ll bet. Some of us have to work for a living! You’re in the Lounge,down there —” He gestured in the direction of the stage.
They thanked him and headed off before he could question them further.
The Lounge wasn’t really a lounge any more than their seats were really seats; it was a roped-off area right beneath the stage, furnished with tables and chairs and rugs and couches — even though it was outdoors.
Inside the ropes, our three friends could see music-industry types in shiny black clothing — and a few very lucky kids — talking and mingling as if they were at a big party and not a concert.
Waitresses wearing pink twin♥heartsTM T-shirts circulated, handing out free twin♥heartsTM cupcakes and bags of Skelton Sisters stuff.
A burly bouncer in a silver jumpsuit spoke our heroes’ names into a headset, then lifted the red velvet rope and let them in past the sign that said VIP Lounge.
“What’s vip mean?” asked Max-Ernest.
“It’s not vip, dummy — it’s V-I-P. Very Important Person,” said Amber, standing nearby with Veronica, a brand-new sock♥roach® dangling from each of their wrists. “But I guess you wouldn’t know that, would you, Max-Ernest? No offense.”
While Max-Ernest’s friends glared at Amber, Veronica giggled as if Amber had just said something very witty.
Amber turned to Yo-Yoji: “I thought you said you were bringing your bandmates from Japan.”
“They couldn’t get here in time.” Yo-Yoji shrugged innocently.
“Well, anyway, I’m so glad you’re here, Cass,” said Amber. “You know we really couldn’t have done it without you!”
Before Cass could ask who “we” were and what they couldn’t have done without her (make a sock♥roach®, maybe?), Amber continued, “You should really try a cupcake — they’re amazing!” And then she sailed off with Veronica to the other side of the Lounge.
Suddenly, the crowd erupted.
Everyone was yelling and cheering and whistling. Girls as young as five and six screamed at the top of their lungs. Even their parents hooted a bit. So many glow sticks waved in the air, it looked like a plague of phosphorescent locusts had descended on the stadium.
Our friends looked up at the stage to see what had provoked such a ruckus: a giant heart made of hundreds of bright pink lightbulbs had just lit up. The Skelton Sisters, in matching silver miniskirts, stood on top, waving to the crowd. The Lounge was so close to the stage that the light was blinding.
“I think my retinas are burning!” yelled Max- Ernest.
Outside the Lounge, the frenzied Skelton Sisters fans pressed against the velvet rope; more bouncers in silver jumpsuits lined up like soldiers to keep them out.
As their band started to play a pounding beat, the Skelton Sisters somersaulted off the heart into the waiting hands of yet two more silver-clad young men.
“I think my eardrums are bursting!” yelled Max-Ernest, eyeing the giant speakers only a few yards away.
“Hi, everybody! Having fun?” Romi (or was it Montana?) shouted at the crowd.
“To kick off the night, we’ve got a special treat for you! Our brand-new single — never performed before!” said Montana (or was it Romi?).
“Oh no —” said Cass to no one in particular.
“What’s wrong?” asked Yo-Yoji.
“I can’t believe it — it’s like I’m having a nightmare.”
A dozen dancers in big fuzzy sock♥roach® costumes had appeared onstage — Cass’s sock-monsters brought to larger than life in a dozen fluorescent colors.
“And to introduce the song, we’d like to bring onstage a special guest — Amber, winner of our You’ve Got the Music in You contest!” said Romi (or was it Montana?).
Amber, looking smugger than ever, was lifted onto the stage by one of the bouncers.
“You’re on, girlfriend!” said Montana (or was it Romi?), handing Amber a microphone.
“Hi. This is such an amaaaaazing honor! Romi and Montana’s new song is called “C’mon, C’mon!” It’s a special message for a special somebody,” said Amber as confidently as if she spoke to crowds of hundreds every night. “And I think it’s their best song ever!”
Then she turned back to Romi and Montana: “Go, girls!”
As the Skelton Sisters started to sing, the giant sock♥roaches® waved their multicolored arms and danced in circles around them.
“Yo, seriously, this music sucks worse than anything I’ve ever heard in my life,” Yo-Yoji grumbled to his friends. “I can’t stay. It’s a crime. Like helping somebody commit murder or something. Let’s bail.”
“He’s right,” said Max-Ernest. “I think this music is going to cause permanent brain damage.”
“No, wait. Listen —”
“Why — you don’t actually like this song, do you?” Yo-Yoji asked, incredulous. “How can you stand it? And they ripped off your sock-monster!”
“Just listen for a second,” Cass said. “Doesn’t it remind you of something?”
Her friends concentrated. Mostly, it sounded like any other bad, bubblegum pop song. But when they listened closely they heard a familiar tune underneath — not nearly as eerie or beautiful as they remembered it, but unmistakable, nevertheless.
“It’s the song of the Sound Prism!” said Max- Ernest.
With growing horror, the kids listened to what the Skelton Sisters were singing:
C’mon! Come here now!
C’mon, cuz our time is here now!
C’mon! Can you hear it?
C’mon! Don’t fear it —
Just listen to the sound now,
And come on round now . . .
Cuz we’re calling,
We’re calling . . . YOU!
Yo-Yoji looked at the others: “It’s almost like they’re talking to . . .”
“. . . the homunculus,” Cass finished for him. “It’s a trap — to get him to come here.”
Max-Ernest was the first to jump into action. If you call nervously tapping your feet and wiping your brow action. “We have to stop the song — before he hears it!”
“Yeah, but how?” asked Cass.
“Like this —” said Yo-Yoji.
And, like that, he leaped onto the stage.
“Hey, Amber,” he shouted. “You still want me to be in a band with you? Give me that mic —” Before Amber realized what was happening, he grabbed her mic away from her.
Without thinking, Cass and Max-Ernest scrambled onto the stage after Yo-Yoji.
“Hey, we know them!” shrieked the startled Romi (or was it Montana), pointing at Cass and Max-Ernest.
“Yeah, they’re . . . them!” shrieked the startled Montana (or was it Romi?).
What was weird was that as they spoke, the song continued just as if they were still singing.
C’mon! Come here now!
C’mon, cuz our time is here now!
“I’ve got a better song, it’s called, ‘You Suck, You Lip-Synching Fakers!’” shouted Yo-Yoji into the mic so that the entire crowd could hear. “The Skelton Sisters suck! The Skelton Sisters suck!”
Cass and Max-Ernest picked up the chant. “They suck! They suck!”
“Get them!” yelled Romi (or was it Montana?).
The twelve sock♥roaches® stopped dancing and started to close in on Cass and Max-Ernest.
“Hey, Cass — look out there!” Max-Ernest pointed into the crowd.
A spotlight shone on the center aisle where a cer
tain twenty-one-and-a-half-inch-tall creature was visible, walking toward the stage. He looked like another sock♥roach® — just smaller.
The audience cheered him on, straining their necks to look at this short but wonderful addition to the show.
“Noooo! Mr. Cabbage Face!” Cass screamed. “Go away! It’s a trap!!!”
But she had no microphone and her voice was drowned out by the music and the cheers of the crowd.
Cass’s screams had distracted their assailants long enough for Max-Ernest to slip out from the circle. Quickly, Cass pulled the Sound Prism out of her sweatshirt. Before she was grabbed by the nearest sock♥roach®, she rolled it in Max-Ernest’s direction and —
Fumbling, he caught it.
Yo-Yoji joined him and they jumped offstage —
Just as the grumpy homunculus was climbing up.
“You better have a good explanation for this,” he said to Cass, not yet realizing that her arms were pinned behind her back. “I don’t dance — let’s just get that clear.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t, I mean, I couldn’t —” said Cass tearfully.
By the time the homunculus had any clue what she meant, two dancers had grabbed him from behind. And now he, too, was locked in the fuzzy but firm grip of a bright orange sock♥roach®.
“Unhand me, you oversize baby toy!” he snarled. “I’ve had bigger than you for lunch!”
Max-Ernest and Yo-Yoji watched helplessly from the crowd as their twelve-year-old friend and the five-hundred-year-old homunculus were dragged back-stage. There were too many of the enemy to even contemplate a fight.
The sock♥roaches® dropped Cass and the homunculus to the floor in front of Ms. Mauvais like dogs presenting fresh kill to their master.
“Welcome to the greenroom. Make yourselves at home.”
Ms. Mauvais gestured grandly around the dingy backstage waiting room as if she were welcoming them to a palace, her gauzy gold gown rippling with every movement.
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