by Ginger Rue
“True,” Tig said. “But where are we going to find two other girls who can play guitar like you?”
“I don’t even want to try,” Robbie said. “We had enough trouble just getting a lead singer.”
“You got that right,” Olivia remarked.
“We’ll make it work,” Robbie said. “Olivia, you tore up that keyboard. Great job.”
“Claire’s got the lead vocals,” Tig said. “But we need somebody besides Olivia to back her up. Olivia can hit those high notes on the chorus, but we need more volume, more depth. We need two voices at least.”
The girls looked at one another. Nobody volunteered. “Listen, I’m not much of a singer, especially with high parts,” Tig said. “But I can probably do a little bit if Robbie and Kyra do it with me. That way we don’t have to have a lot of power behind the backup vocals; we can make up for it with layering the voices.”
They agreed to give it a try, even though Kyra, Robbie, and Tig weren’t the best singers. They played the song on Tig’s iPhone and sang the backup part together a few times before playing the entire song again from the top with the new vocals.
“That wasn’t bad,” Tig said. “But you can hardly hear our voices. We’re going to have to get more microphones and stands. I’ve got some money saved up. I could get one of those boom mics and hang it over the drums on a stand with a scissor arm.”
“I’ll spring for one,” said Robbie. “Kyra and I can share it.”
“Sounds good,” Tig said. They agreed to purchase the mics before the next practice. “Let’s run through it once more. We’ll just have to sing as loud as we can.”
They played the song through again. When they finished, they heard someone clapping from outside the studio. They’d left the door open, and Tig’s uncle Paul, her dad’s brother, peeked through. “Bravo!” he said, still clapping.
“Uncle Paul,” Tig said. “What’re you doing here?”
“Just stopped in to borrow some pool toys.”
Pool toys? “It’s too cold for swimming,” Tig said. “You’re going to make the kids sick.”
“It’s for a campaign one of my students is doing,” Uncle Paul explained. “He needs props for the shoot.” Uncle Paul was an advertising professor at the university and often had odd requests for items his students needed in their ads. “Anyway, I heard there was a rock band in concert out here, so I had to check it out. Y’all sound great!”
“Thanks,” said Tig. “We’ve been working on this song for a while.”
“Play it again,” said Uncle Paul.
The next time through was better still. Kyra dropped the bass line only once and Tig messed up a couple of times on the drums, but they recovered quickly. When it was over, Claire’s smile was so big, her eyes nearly disappeared.
“You guys!” she said. “That was so much fun!”
The five of them hugged and high-fived.
“Hey, how’d you like to play your first gig?” Uncle Paul asked.
“Gig?” Tig asked. “This is the only song we know.”
“Yeah, but your aunt Kate would love it if you played her surprise party.”
“But Aunt Kate’s surprise party is tonight!” Tig said. “And you’ve already hired a band.”
“I’m sure they’d stand aside long enough for you girls to perform this one song. What do you say?”
“Claire?” Tig asked.
“This is all happening so fast,” Claire replied. “How many people will be there?”
“It’s nobody you’d know,” Tig said. “Just a bunch of old people.”
“Thanks,” said Uncle Paul.
“What’s the pay?” Robbie asked.
Uncle Paul grinned. “I like your style,” he replied. “How about ten bucks apiece?”
Tig looked at the other girls. Their wide smiles told her they were in.
“I guess I could try,” Claire said.
“You’ve got yourself a deal,” Robbie said, shaking Uncle Paul’s hand. “Joke’s on you, though. We would’ve done it for free.”
“Joke’s on you. I would’ve paid you twenty apiece.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“I’m so excited!” Tig’s mom said. “Your first performance! Oh, I hope I don’t mess up the timing. Everything has to go perfectly. Kate is going to flip! She’s going to love your band playing for her.” Mom was in charge of getting Kate to the surprise party on time. She was supposed to lure her shopping and make her stay away from her house until five p.m. Tig thought that shouldn’t be too hard. Tig’s mom and Aunt Kate went shopping together all the time.
The Pandora’s Box girls met at Tig’s aunt and uncle’s house to practice after Olivia’s tennis game. They ran through “Sweet Home” a few times, making sure the mic levels and amps were set up correctly. Pandora’s Box was to be the opening act, the first song that began playing when Kate came home to find her surprise party.
Tig’s aunt and uncle’s house had a big backyard, and her uncle had set it up with tiki torches and strings of clear lights on the gazebo. There was plenty of pulled-pork barbeque, coleslaw, chips, and banana pudding, and canned drinks in galvanized tubs full of ice. A banner said, HAPPY TWENTY-NINTH, KATE!
“I thought you said she was forty?” Tig asked.
“You’re too young to understand,” Uncle Paul replied.
As people began arriving, Tig stared to feel a little nervous. What if this had been a terrible idea? What if they choked? But one look at Robbie made her fears dissipate. Robbie didn’t know what the word nervous even meant. She had kicked back in the oversize chair in the den, reading Uncle Paul’s copy of some advertising journal. Her right leg was over one armrest, her back against the other. She didn’t even sit in chairs like other people. With Robbie on guitar, what could possibly go wrong?
Uncle Paul made an announcement. “They’ll be here in five minutes! Everybody, get ready!”
The fifty or so partygoers filed into the backyard and got quiet. Tig sat down behind the drums and gripped the sticks. Olivia perched herself behind the keyboard, Kyra and Robbie strapped on their bass and guitar. Claire, a death grip on the microphone, turned and looked worriedly at Tig. Tig gave her a thumbs-up. They heard a car door slam.
“Can’t we do that in a minute?” Kate’s voice said.
“No, come around here and show me that new climbing rose bush,” Tig’s mom said. “I’m dying to see how it looks.”
When Aunt Kate and Tig’s mom got to the backyard, Kate’s mouth dropped open.
“Surprise!” everyone yelled.
“Happy birthday, baby!” Uncle Paul said, hugging his wife.
Then Robbie began that familiar riff, and soon Tig joined in. Claire’s voice didn’t shake a bit. It all felt so natural. Before Tig knew it, the song was over, and the crowd was cheering.
Uncle Paul took the mic from Claire. “For the first time ever, ladies and gentlemen, Pandora’s Box!” More cheers. The girls took bows, then moved out of the way so the real band could take over.
“Sweet pea!” Aunt Kate said, hugging Tig. “I didn’t know you had a band! I’m so proud of you! That was just precious!”
When Kate let Tig out of the hug and went back to her friends, Robbie said, “Precious? Did she really just call us precious? Gag.”
“Oh, come on,” Tig said. “She’s an aunt. They have to say stuff like that. Besides, you’re just as cute as a button! Yes, you are!” Tig said it in an old lady voice and pinched Robbie’s cheek.
Robbie swatted Tig’s hand away, but she couldn’t help laughing. “Okay, okay. I guess we are pretty precious, aren’t we?”
“The preciousest!” Tig said.
Claire, Kyra, and Olivia came over to Tig and Robbie, and they all hugged. “That was so fun!” Claire said. “I wasn’t even nervous! Well, after we got started.”
“We rocked!” Olivia said.
“Who’s the coolest all-girl band in town? We are!” Kyra said. The girls exchanged high fives.
I could get used to this, Tig thought.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The glow of Aunt Kate’s party had faded by Monday, when Tig had to return to the cold realities of middle school.
Haley’s counterattack—if you could consider Tig’s kicking her out of the band an attack—was quite brilliant. Even Tig had to admit it.
Mrs. Baker had gotten some sort of a grant to do an anti-bullying campaign in social studies, and they’d been doing worksheets and skits for two weeks about how to stand up to bullies. Now it was time for the culmination of the unit: student essays and presentations about how bullying had personally affected their lives.
Tig did hers on how she’d once witnessed a fight at school and how it was never okay to hit anyone. Kyra’s was about a rumor from last year about how she’d had a crush on a guy in their class. She left out the part about how she’d been the one who started the rumor because she had thought it would make him ask her out. It didn’t. Robbie’s was more of a persuasive essay about how nobody is important enough to make you feel bad about yourself. Mrs. Baker gave her kudos for dressing outrageously to prove her point—even though no one else had dared say a word about the hideous dress Robbie had worn with combat boots to fulfill the dare.
When Haley got up to present her paper, Tig expected a generic, phoned-in essay.
But what she got was a total oh-no-she-didn’t moment.
“The Psychology of Bullies,” Haley read, “by Haley Thornton.” She cleared her throat and continued.
“Bullies pick on people because they feel bad about themselves. They know they are nothing special, so they find people who are special and try to bring them down to their pathetic level.
“Sadly, I became the victim of a vicious bully this year, so I know firsthand how it feels to be treated like dirt by a peer. I won’t say her name because I’ve decided to be the bigger person, but this girl did everything she could to make me feel terrible about myself. She is jealous of me because I’m much prettier than she is and I have lots of friends, while she is ugly and a loser. Yet because I felt sorry for her since no one likes her, I did her a favor and tried to help her with an extracurricular project. I thought maybe I could try to be her friend. But I soon found out there was a reason no one likes her. She rejected my help and yelled a lot of mean things to me in the gym one morning, in front of everyone, just to hurt my feelings. I was so upset to think that anyone could be so horrible, especially after I’d been nothing but nice to her.
“However, I’ve learned that this unnamed person’s issues are her problem, not mine. I refuse to be dragged down to her level by participating in her pettiness. I realize I am special, and no one has the right to make me feel otherwise!”
Haley capped off her speech with a giant smile and a bow.
The class clapped and cheered.
Except, of course, for Tig, Kyra, Robbie, and Will, who sat there stunned.
Mrs. Baker seemed skeptical. “Okay, Haley,” she said. “That was interesting. Thank you.”
While Mrs. Baker was making a note in her grade book, Haley looked directly at Tig, leaving no doubt in the class’s mind about the subject of her essay. Then Haley took her seat.
Will passed Tig a note on a tiny scrap of paper. She’s kidding, right?
Tig couldn’t even look up from her desk. She knew her face was red, and she was afraid she might cry. She was so angry and frustrated. She shook her head. Will grabbed the paper and wrote something else, then tossed it back onto Tig’s desk. Don’t let her get to you. She’s a fake, and everybody knows it.
If everybody knew it, though, why did they clap and cheer?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Claire had social studies a different period than the rest of the band, so she hadn’t witnessed the theatrical production Haley had put on to destroy Tig.
Lunch was like a funeral visitation, Haley receiving visitors in the line and then at her table. The news of Haley’s victimization had spread throughout the entire seventh grade, and girls eagerly awaited their turn to console the poor, persecuted martyr . . . all the while glaring at Tig. It wasn’t that anyone actually believed Haley’s story—they all knew what Haley was capable of and many of them had been on the receiving end of it at some point—but they played along because it was a chance to join in the drama while sucking up to the Bots.
“I think I’m going to throw up,” Tig announced as she, Robbie, Olivia, Kyra, and Will watched the scene.
“Even the non-Bots want a piece of the action,” Robbie said.
“Their grudges go viral fast,” said Olivia.
“Yeah, hating Tig is about to become the cool new thing to do,” Kyra said. “We’ve got trouble.”
“So, thanks to Haley’s ‘anti-bullying’ essay, everybody’s going to start bullying Tig. Ironic, isn’t it?” Will asked.
“Yes, but nobody will think of that,” Tig said. “Man, this is ridiculous.”
Just then Claire arrived at the lunch table. “What’s going on over there?” she asked, taking her seat. “Did Haley have a death in her family or something? Is everything okay?”
“Haven’t you heard?” Will said. “Tig murders puppies.”
“What?” Claire looked confused.
“Haley’s tragedy,” Will continued. “It’s all Tig’s fault. Tig, you should be ashamed for being such a big, bad bully.”
“Yeah,” Robbie said. “Poor Haley will probably never recover. Oh, I feel so sorry for her. I know all this attention she’s getting right now is tough on her, seeing as how she’s so shy and all and doesn’t enjoy people fawning over her.”
“Tig,” Claire asked, “what is all this about?”
Tig sighed. “Here’s the deal . . . ,” she began. “Haley used to be the lead singer for our band.”
“For about five whole seconds,” Robbie added. “Five screechy, horrible seconds.”
“She wasn’t a good singer; that’s true,” Tig replied. “But it wasn’t just that. She was bossy and hard to work with. We ended up having to part ways.”
“It wasn’t Tig’s fault,” Olivia said. “She never asked her to be in the band in the first place. Kyra asked her.”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Kyra said. “How was I supposed to know what would happen?”
“Okay,” Claire said. “So why is it all of a sudden a big deal now? How long ago was this?”
“A couple of weeks ago,” Tig said. “I thought it was water under the bridge. Guess not.”
Will chimed in. “Today in social studies, Haley read an essay about how Tig had bullied her and hurt her feelings. Now Haley’s got the sympathy vote and Tig’s the bad guy.”
“Were you mean to her?” Claire asked.
Tig looked down at her lunch bag. “Not at first,” she said. “I mean, I tried not to be, but it sort of . . . escalated.” It occurred to Tig that everything Haley and Regan had said to her that day in the gym had been said quietly. Tig was the one who’d raised her voice. To everyone else in the gym, it had probably looked like Tig was the crazy, mean one, and the Bots had done nothing to provoke her. Tig had to hand it to them: they were good at what they did.
“It was all Haley’s fault,” Robbie said. “Tig tried to be nice. But Haley was a real diva. She didn’t leave Tig much choice. Heck, my grandma probably would’ve said worse to her than what Tig said.”
“This is awkward,” Claire said. “I mean, you guys are my friends, but Haley’s my friend, too. I haven’t told her about singing in the band. What if she feels like I’ve betrayed her?”
“Claire, don’t you think it’s a little strange that Haley never even knew you were alive until you started sitting at our lunch table?” said Robbie. “She’s been plotting a way to get even with Tig—with all of us, really—since the da
y we kicked her out of the band.”
“How can you be so sure?” Claire asked.
“Because that’s how the Bots operate,” Robbie said.
“I can’t believe anyone would do something like that.”
“No offense, Claire,” Robbie said, “but you haven’t been here very long. You haven’t seen these girls in action.”
“You’re on our side, aren’t you?” Olivia asked.
“I’m not on anyone’s side,” Claire replied. “I don’t think it’s right for me to take sides about an issue I wasn’t involved in, when I don’t really know what happened.”
“You’re not going to ditch us, are you?” Tig asked. “Although if you did, I guess I could understand. My name is going to be mud around here for a while until this dies down. You might not want to be associated with us.”
“I’m not ditching anybody,” said Claire. “I’ll talk to Haley today in study hall. Who knows? Maybe this has all just been a big misunderstanding. Maybe I can negotiate a truce.”
“And maybe this ridiculous dress I’m wearing will become a new fashion craze,” Robbie said. “Good luck with that.”
“But just in case,” Claire said, “I may hold off on mentioning my involvement with the band.”
“She’s ditching us,” Robbie said.
“I’m not!” Claire said. “But it seems imprudent to throw petrol on the fire at this point, don’t you agree?”
“I agree,” said Tig. “You do what you have to do, Claire. Thanks for not jumping to conclusions like”—Tig gestured toward the crowd surrounding Haley—“everyone else.”
“Glad you’re not jumping ship,” Robbie said.
“Thanks for sticking with me, everybody,” Tig said to her friends.
“Where else would I go, dressed like this?” Robbie said with a grin.
Tig tried not to let Claire’s fair-mindedness feel like a betrayal. It wasn’t. Her rational side told her that Claire was just being a good person, better than Tig would’ve been if the situation were reversed.
But her gut told her to get ready for losing the band’s lead singer, and her cool new friend.