Revenge Of A Band Geek Gone Bad

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Revenge Of A Band Geek Gone Bad Page 11

by Rabinowitz, Naomi

"You will," I assured her. I patted her arm. "You've never had trouble finding one before."

  "Yeah, but now I'm always afraid that guys are only asking me out because of what he told them." She frowned. "You're so lucky, Mel."

  "I know." I smiled. "Josh really is my best friend. After you, of course."

  "Damn straight he comes after me. You don't see him here letting you borrow his dress."

  As Lana stood next to me, I was overcome by a wave of love and gratitude. I really was lucky. Sure, I wasn't popular, but not that many people had friends who were so caring. I reached out and impulsively hugged her.

  "Hey, watch the hair!" she cried, backing away. "What was that for?"

  "I just want to thank you so much for being with me tonight," I told her. "I know we haven't spent much time together, but you're still important to me. And I appreciate you taking care of me."

  "Mel, stop, you're gonna make me cry."

  We hugged again just as Josh pulled up. A skinny guy with a mop of curly brown hair called out to us, "That's all right, ladies, don't stop what you're doing on account of us. Pretend we're not here."

  "Uh, sure," I laughed. "And you are?"

  "This is Lenny Xergeldogger," Josh said, nodding toward his passenger. "Len works at my mom's diner and is an old friend of mine. He's a senior at Smithfield High. He's gonna help us out tonight."

  Lenny was about six feet tall and kept his long, curly hair in a ponytail. He wore a Cornell sweatshirt and jeans, but was thin to the point that it was hard to believe that a body existed beneath the clothing. His features were so stretched out, his long nose and chin —- which was hidden beneath a scraggly goatee —- gave him a somewhat rat-like appearance. Yet his brown eyes and wide smile were warm and inviting. "This is Lana Brody," I said, motioning to my friend, "and I'm Melinda Rhodes. We go to school with Josh."

  "Cool!" Lenny shouted, pumping his fists.

  The four of us got into Josh's car, with Lenny sitting in the front. "Hope you don't mind me sitting shotgun," he said, turning around in his seat. He pointed to his long legs. "These guys don't fit so well back there."

  As he spoke to me, I was overcome by a powerful odor. I then realized what the stench was: Lenny smelled like wet dog.

  Lana noticed, too, because she had one hand over her nose and one over her mouth so he wouldn't see her laughing. Pretty soon, I was doing the same; within a few minutes, we were both hiccuping because we were giggling so hard.

  But Lenny was proud that he'd managed to get our attention. "I didn't know I was that funny!" he said. He waved a hand in the air. "Leave it to the Lenster to get the party started!"

  ###

  We rode for a few minutes, laughing and singing along to the radio, but then Lenny turned back around to us. "So, uh, Melanie," he said to me, "Josh says you're a flute player and you're playing tonight."

  I smiled. "Yeah."

  "Are you any good?"

  "She's great," Josh told him.

  "She is," Lana agreed.

  "Thanks," I said to my friends, "but I'm pretty nervous."

  "Don't be, I think that's so cool," Lenny replied. "I once tried to play recorder at summer camp, but a bee flew into it and went up my nose." He burst into a deep guffaw —- "HA-HA, HA-HA, HA-HA!" -- sounding as if he were suddenly possessed by a donkey.

  "Um, sorry to hear that," I told him. "And it's Melinda."

  "Sure thing, Miranda."

  Lana glanced over at me and raised an eyebrow. "So, uh, Squiggy," she said, barely containing a snort, "how is it being a senior? Are you going to college?"

  Josh and I chuckled at her little Laverne & Shirley joke. Lenny didn't get the “Lenny and Squiggy” reference.

  "It's Lenny," he reminded her. "But to answer your question, uh, Laura, yeah, being a senior rocks! It's like, 'Hey man, I rule the school. Get out of my way, you freshman!' And the parties -- whoa! This one time we crashed out at my buddy Chaz's for, like three days. It was a weekend of non-stop fun. I don't even remember half of it. HA-HA, HA-HA, HA-HA!"

  "Sounds like a blast," Lana said. She rolled her eyes.

  "Oh man, Lina, you don't even know. Sit back and listen because I can seriously write a book about my weekends. HA-HA! There was that one party Chazzy and I went to where everyone puked at once..."

  Josh eyed us turning green through the mirror and quickly changed the subject. "So, Lana, I know you and Mel grew up together, but were you always best friends?"

  Lana looked at me. "You didn't tell him about the aliens? Well, you see..."

  "I once met an alien," said Lenny. "It was out on my cousin's farm in Texas. He offered me his blue moon crystals."

  “Anyway," Lana said, loudly. "Melinda and I didn't really become close-close until we were in the first grade together. At recess, the boys used to play this game where they'd pretend to be aliens and capture us. Then they'd do experiments on us. One day, Bobby Williams tried to shove an ant up my nose. Mel heard me screaming and threw a dirt wad at him and he stopped. We've been best friends ever since."

  "Whoa, that reminds me of another time at Chazzy's place," Lenny said. "His friend knew this female mud wrestler...

  "Lenny," I interrupted, looking over at Josh. "How did you and Josh ever become friends?"

  "The Joshter, he saved my butt," Lenny said proudly. "I was working at the diner about two years ago and was about to get my ass fired because I broke a whole bunch of plates. Josh talked the manager into giving me another chance. And, Lily, you know, Josh's mom? She's like my mom, too. Whenever I screw up, she gets my back. HA-HA, HA-HA!"

  I imagined Lily "got Lenny's back" all the time. But we'd have to hear his stories later since we'd arrived at the school. I picked up my flute and music and turned to Josh. "Okay," I said, "Your time is up and I think you owe me after the ride we just took. Now you have to tell me what this plan is."

  ###

  A few minutes later, the four of us huddled in the bushes behind the school. "So, this is it?" I asked, my eyes widening. "This is the thing you've been keeping secret from me?"

  Lenny stood before us in the strangest drag costume I'd ever seen. He wore a long, hot pink skirt with an odd patchwork pattern on the hem. His stockings were red and white striped, kind of like you'd imagine Santa's elves in. His top was a blue and green plaid blouse covered by a powder-blue, ruffled, 1970s-type blazer. To complete the look, he'd tied his curly mop into three frizzy pigtails. He hid his face behind a plastic Xena mask. In his hand, he carried a ukulele.

  Lana rolled on the ground in hysterics. Josh looked proud. I just stood there, confused.

  "It's a great plan," Josh insisted. "Lenny will stand outside the window of the band room. Then Mel, you'll give him a signal when it's Kathy's turn to play. Len will heckle her until she messes up her solo. It's a no-brainer."

  Lana glanced at Lenny. "You can say that again."

  "But what about security?" I asked. "Don't you think people are going to well, notice some weirdo hanging around outside? The cops will be on it in no time."

  Josh grinned. "No they won't."

  I stared at him. "How can you be so sure?"

  "Trust me," he said. "I have the perfect plan to ward off security. I'll create a diversion."

  "And I'll help," Lana announced, flashing me a smile. "Josh is going to need company while he carries this out."

  I could only dream of what they would be talking about.

  ###

  Once I was inside, I put Lenny and the plan out of my mind and concentrated on my upcoming performance. I found an empty practice room and after going through my scales, slowly went through the more difficult passages of my solo. I was just getting to the part with the octave jumps when Kathy marched into the practice room without knocking. She eyed my red dress.

  "I like it, Mel," she said looking me up and down, "but can I give you some fashion advice?" She smirked. "Big girls shouldn't show off their arms. Especially if they're going to be playing the flute." She lifted her arms up
into position. "See this here," she said, grabbing her toned tricep. "On your arms, that's going to be wiggling all over the place like Jell-O." She chuckled at her description.

  Secretly I wondered if she was right; showing off my arms was something I wasn't entirely comfortable with. But I refused to let her get to me; she'd get hers soon enough. "Thanks for the tip," I told her, forcing myself to smile. I examined her green, strapless gown. "But you might want to make sure that your boobs don't pop out while you play."

  She backed away a few inches, probably fearing that I'd hit her again. I decided to make nice. "So what are you playing, anyway?" I asked. "Is it anything I know?"

  Kathy reached into her folder and pulled out her copy of Eugene Bozza's "Image," which is one of the toughest flute pieces out there. For one thing, it's for solo flute, so there's no piano part to pick up the slack. The middle section flies by at breakneck speed. And the octave jumps that are in it make the ones in Poulenc's piece look like a walk in the park. I've tried to play "Image" —- very, very slowly —- but have never felt confident enough to perform it in public. To say I was impressed was an understatement.

  "That's awesome," I said, meaning it.

  "Thanks." She smiled and seemed to be genuinely flattered by my compliment. "I wasn't sure if I should go for it, you know with it being without the piano and all, but I love this piece."

  "Me, too. I've listened to it being played online about a million times and never get sick of it."

  She fidgeted for a moment. "Uh, wanna hear a little?" she offered. "It'll help me get ready if I play for someone first."

  "Sure." I cleared off the music stand.

  "Okay," she hedged. "I'm kind of nervous about this middle part," she admitted, indicating the octave jumps. "I keep messing up on the second half, especially on that run down." Still, she took a deep breath and threw her shoulders back ... and plowed through the jumps with no problems. I applauded.

  "That's amazing," I assured her. "That section is a killer. Do it like that and you'll be fine."

  She blushed. "Thanks. Well, what are you playing?"

  I held up my music, not quite believing that we were actually kinda-sorta bonding.

  "Oh, I love the Poulenc," she said. "Can I hear yours?"

  "Okay." I arranged the piece on the stand.

  Just then, Ken popped his head into the practice room. He whistled as he got a look at my outfit. "Nice dress, Mel!" he said. "You clean up well."

  "Hi, Ken," Kathy said loudly. She tried to bat her eyes at him, but the move made her look like she was having a seizure.

  "Oh, uh, hi, Kathy. Good luck tonight." Ken waved to me. "Good luck to you, too, Rhodes."

  After Ken left, I picked up my flute so I could play some of the Poulenc for her. "The octave jumps are driving me a little crazy," I confessed, "and that transition to the middle..."

  Kathy's expression had changed. She was no longer smiling and instead had a scowl on her pretty face. She held up her hand. "Know what, Mel, spare me, okay?" she said. "I don't have time for this. I think I played that piece in kindergarten, so if you can't get it, maybe you should go back to something easier, like 'Mary Had A Little Lamb.' "

  "But..." What the hell just happened? Did an alien take over her body? I quickly realized that this wasn't about Kathy having a split personality; it was about Ken. It was just killing her that he and I were on friendly terms. A surge of triumph shot through me. If she insisted on being a bitch, I was perfectly capable of being an even bigger one.

  "Look, I've got to finish warming up," I said, turning my back to her. "So please get out of here. I want some quiet while I'm getting ready."

  "I don't see why you're even bothering," she said. "My piece is a lot more difficult and I'm the better player. There's no way that guy is going to pick you for his orchestra."

  I shrugged. "We'll see."

  I smiled to myself as I thought of what awaited her.

  ###

  A few minutes later, it was finally time for the recital to begin. For most school functions we use the auditorium, but since this crowd wasn't as large, the event was simply held in our band and orchestra rooms. The school tried to make them look a little more classy by hanging streamers from the ceiling and putting out tables full of snacks and punch.

  Once everyone was seated, Mr. Francis waddled to the front of the room, where his podium usually sat, while we gathered in a semi-circle behind him. That evening, he was wearing a black suit and tie, not to mention a smile. In other words, he could almost pass for normal. If we told the guests that he got a perverse pleasure out of shrieking at the band and breaking batons, they probably wouldn't believe us.

  After making a few opening remarks, our conductor motioned to us. "It now gives me great pleasure to introduce the best of the best," he announced. "They've all been working really hard and I think they could give any professional musician a run for his money. Of course, I'm extremely biased." Everyone laughed. "So here are Sequoia High's wind ensemble and symphony orchestra students!" The room broke into applause.

  Maya was first on the program, then Ken and then me. I didn't mind being third; it meant that I could get my performance out of the way and then sit back and relax.

  I waited in the hallway as they performed their pieces. Maya made a couple of flubs in the Schubert “Arpeggione” Sonata, but I doubt anyone other than Kathy or me would've noticed. Ken, on the other hand, won me and the crowd over with his clear tone and technique. He didn't have the raw talent that Josh did on the trumpet, but could definitely hold his own. When he finished, the crowd whistled and clapped. Guess the rumors of him and Dani being over were wrong because she was sitting in the front row totally playing the part of the proud girlfriend. In the midst of the applause, she waved at him. Ken blew her a kiss. Lana stared into space, pretending not to care.

  Then it was my turn. You'd think that after years of doing recitals I'd be used to it, but I always get hit by a wave of stage fright before performing. My mom always says, though, that being a little nervous means that you care; if you're too sure and cocky, that's when you mess up. I closed my eyes for a moment and took a couple of deep breaths. I then marched into the band room, prepared for battle.

  "And now Melinda Rhodes is going to play the sonata by Francis Poulenc," announced Mr. Francis. The room became silent. Lana and Josh, who were both sitting in the front row, waved.

  I nodded at Mrs. Bentz that I was ready to begin, then plowed right into the opening notes. For the first few measures, I still felt unsure, but as I got into the piece my anxiety melted away. Much as I love the flute part of the Poulenc, the sonata sounds so much better with the piano. Before long, I found myself getting lost in the complex harmonies.

  And then it was over. I hadn't even realized that I'd made it through the entire piece. I blinked for a second and stood back, taking it all in.

  That's when the crowd exploded with applause. Seriously, the sound was deafening. I couldn't believe it when everyone got up out of their chairs. They were giving me a standing ovation. Well, except for Tamara, who just sat there rolling her eyes.

  "Yeah, Mel!" Lana called out to me. "You rock!"

  Josh didn't yell, but he did give me a big thumbs up.

  ###

  When I went back into the hallway, a bunch of the other performers were there waiting for me. "You were awesome!" Maya said, jumping up and down. She gave me a hug. "The orchestra guy has to pick you!"

  "Yeah, that was really great," agreed Marybeth Luczak, one of the violinists in our school's orchestra. "I really liked that piece! And I love the dress," she added.

  Even Mr. Francis was impressed. "Good job, kid!" he called out to me as he went back into the recital room. "I knew you could do it. I told Chambourg to watch out for you."

  That made up for the whole second chair thing. Almost.

  Soon, Josh and Lana joined me in the hallway. Josh ran over to embrace me. "You were amazing," he murmured in my ear. I shivered as his warm
breath hit me, but then came back to reality as Lana also leaned in to grab me.

  "I never had that much interest in flute music," she admitted, "but if it all sounds like that, I need to start listening more."

  "Thanks," I said. "That means a lot."

  After the next performer, a trombonist, finished, I was ready to return to the band room to take a seat in the audience, but Lana and Josh just stood there. "You're not coming?" I asked.

  "Well..." Lana began. By the way she kept giving Josh looks, I could tell that this had something to do with the plan. Really, she's about as subtle as a neon sign.

  "I think we both need to stretch our legs," Josh said. He flashed his lopsided grin. "Kathy's not on for a bit. You don't mind if we watch from out here for a while, do you?"

  "No," I replied. "But I'm going back in. It would be rude for me not to."

  "I agree. Everyone will expect to see you there. Just remember to sit near the window during Kathy's piece," he reminded me. "Lenny will need to see you."

  I nodded and entered the room, feeling even more anticipation than I had before I played my solo.

  ###

  Three more musicians went on before it was Kathy's turn. By that point, I was getting impatient. I wanted to get this over with already. I wondered how Lenny was doing, all crouched down in the bushes. I considered peeking out the window to see if he was okay, but was afraid I'd get him going at the wrong time if I did that. So I just hung back and waited.

  At last, Kathy came out for her solo. She gave the audience a big smile and strutted over to her music stand, but I could tell by the way her hands were shaking that she was faking her confidence. As she placed her music on the stand, I lightly rapped on the window. She started her piece ... and I was mesmerized.

  Though she was obviously nervous, she floated through the opening runs and then launched right into the faster portion. In fact, she was sounding so good that part of me began to wonder if I should stop Lenny from doing his thing.

  But Lenny did appear. About a minute into her performance, he stood in the window, looking like a crazed stalker -- with really unusual fashion sense. He took out his ukulele and tried to play along with her.

 

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