Drummer Girl

by Karen Bass

  He snatched her jacket from the floor, pushed it at her, then frowned out the window.

  Clem smiled and cranked the music. At her house, Sid was stepping out of the van when Clem called her name. He gave her a solemn nod. “You did a good job tonight.”

  Confusion blanked her mind and Sid only managed a nod back. She watched the van roll away, still trying to figure out Clem’s change of heart. Finally her mind kicked into gear. They all thought she had done a good job.

  She punched the air and gave a victory yell. She was going to be tfd’s newest drummer.

  18 | slicing and dicing

  Sunday was agony. Monday was slightly better, and it was filled with congratulations from a lot of the jock set so Sid’s energy rebounded.

  Clem caught her on the way into shop class and pulled her to an alcove outside a janitor’s closet. Her good mood plummeted when he crowded her into the corner, blocking her escape with his body.

  “What’s up, Clem? You don’t want to be late for class.”

  “I have study hall.” He leaned close. “Relax, Crowley. I’m not here to hassle you.”

  Sid paused. “You’re not?”

  “No. I’m here to apologize for Han. He thought you were flirting with him. He doesn’t push himself on girls. No harm done, right?”

  Sid almost blurted her confusion. “Right. No harm. Can I go to class now?”

  “In a minute. I just want to point out,” he ran a finger along her jaw and continued, “how distracting a girl can be in a band. Especially one who turns out to be cuter than anyone thought.”

  “I get it. I’ll make sure I keep my distance from Han.” Sid forced firmness into her voice. “Now...let me keep my distance from you. Okay?”

  “Sure. As soon as I’ve had a taste.” Clem gripped her chin and kissed her while Sid clamped her mouth shut. What the hell was this? Another test? She glared at him, clinging to anger to keep revulsion at bay. He pulled away and sneered. “I don’t think you’re my flavour, Crowley.”

  “That breaks my heart. I so enjoy flirting with you.” He stepped back to let Sid past. Fighting the urge to wipe her mouth, she laid her hand on his chest and fluttered her eyes in an exaggerated way. “A word of advice, Clem. Stick to playing guitar. It’s what you’re good at.”

  His expression darkened and she walked away before he could react. The late slip was worth it.

  Tuesday morning Sid woke up feeling more cheerful than she expected, given that she still hadn’t heard the official word from Rocklin about being in the band. She tugged on her skirt and a form-fitting shirt with a vee-neck that dropped a little lower than she might normally be comfortable with. After her mask was applied, with only one glob of mascara to dab off, she eyed herself in the mirror and adjusted the underwire bra. I might look like my mom, but I have Dad’s eyes. I can live with that.

  She passed Taylor’s house as he was coming out the door. He spotted her and ducked back inside. “Coward!” she called. The door cracked back open but Taylor didn’t reappear.

  At school the first person she saw was Wes, but he kept his distance, content to just glare. Hopefully he stayed away. No way did she want to land in the vp’s office again. The last thing James’s ulcer needed was another call from the school about her.

  At lunch, Sid decided she had no room for food. She felt bloated and uncomfortable. If things ran their typical course, her period would start this evening. There’d be no begging off the regular math tutoring because James thought it had started ten days ago. Which was enough to darken any mood. How Brad could like math was beyond her.

  She didn’t feel like sitting with Taylor after he’d hidden from her this morning, so Sid headed to her usual haunt of the library, hoping the new Rolling Stone magazine was processed.

  She turned the last corner before the library and almost bumped into Wes. He draped his arm across her shoulders before she could avoid him. She saw Clem looking their way. He disappeared out a side exit two doors down.

  Wes said, “I hoped I’d catch up with you here, Sidney.” He steered her toward the exit Clem had just used. “Rock said he wants to talk to you.”

  “Then Rock should’ve told me. What are you, his errand boy?” Still sucking up. Sid tried to twist away but Wes grabbed her arm with his free hand.

  “Cool it, Sidney.” He paused by the exit and turned her toward him, his grip on her arm firm. “I’ve been a jerk to you since this whole drummer competition started between us.”

  “Aren’t you the gracious loser?”

  Furrows wrinkled his brow, then disappeared. “Are you so sure you’ve won? Playing good isn’t the only important thing here.”

  Sid noncommittally lifted one shoulder. “Really? So is that what Rock wants to talk about? The band’s rules of conduct? I think I already know them.” Sid’s heartbeat drummed with anticipation.

  He gave the exit an uncertain glance. “Maybe you should just leave it, Sid. There are other bands. You aren’t in tfd’s league.”

  “And you are? You’d like that. Me leaving the field wide open for you.”

  “Maybe this isn’t about me.”

  “Everything’s about you, Wes. You’ve made that clear. Let me go talk to Rocklin.”

  He sighed, released her and gave a mocking sweep of his arm. Sid marched outside.

  To the right, across the field, some students were using their noon hour to run the track. To the left, the members of tfd lounged around with poorly disguised beer bottles in hand. So the rumours were right: there was a drinking spot on the grounds, somewhere the teachers never supervised. There weren’t even any windows in this stretch of brick wall.

  Something about the situation struck Sid as not right and she hesitated.

  Wes said, “What’s wrong, Sid? This is what you wanted, right?” His conciliatory tone was gone and his smile wasn’t the least reassuring. “Rock wants to talk to you.”

  She was breathing a little faster than normal, she realized. Her mouth was dry. This was what she’d wanted, a face-to-face with Rocklin. Saturday had gone great; she had nothing to worry about. She gave a jerky nod and walked toward Rocklin, who stood and waited for her. Clem and Han stood up but stayed behind Rock. Clem nodded in her general direction but it didn’t seem to be at her.

  Sid stopped two metres away and Rocklin crooked his finger, drawing her closer as if he were reeling in a fish. She was close enough she had to look up when he lowered his arm. He guzzled his beer and dropped the empty. The yeasty smell washed over her; she had the impression he’d had more than the one. She held her voice steady by sheer willpower. “Wes says you want to talk to me, Rock.”

  He nodded, moved closer, making Sid retreat a little. “That idiot wrecked our show once. But he’ll never do it again. What about you, Crowley?”

  Sid was tempted to look at Wes, but didn’t. She edged away as Rock closed in again, almost swearing when her back bumped against the brick wall. “I didn’t wreck the show. We kicked ass. We’re a great team.”

  “Are we?”

  Sid had no clue what he was talking about so couldn’t think of anything to say.

  Maybe it was the angle of the sun, but as Rock braced a hand on the wall and leaned toward Sid his face seemed full

  of shadows. His breath reeked of the beer. “Stupid chick.

  Clem was right that it would’ve been okay if you’d been a

  dyke. He was right about everything. Why’d you have to go

  pull this shit?” His free hand flicked at her shirt’s low neckline.

  “What shit? You mean my tank top on Saturday? You were the one who told me to wear something low-cut. I’ve done everything you wanted me to. I made sure I fit your image.” Sid’s heartbeat was thundering in her ears but she raised her chin and met Rock’s narrowed gaze.

  “I told you not
to cause trouble. But you didn’t listen. Clem’s right. Bands break up over chicks. This one isn’t going to.”

  “What are you talking about? I’m not into those kinds of games. I just want to drum. I’m good. You know I’m better than Wes.”

  “Yeah. You are.” He leaned closer. Sid had nowhere to go. Their noses were almost touching. “You have a boyfriend?”

  Sid swallowed and nodded.

  “Funny. No one has seen him, though we heard from a little bird that you were getting hot and heavy after some wedding dance. Why didn’t he come to the gig Saturday night?”

  “He was out of town. At his grandparents.”

  “That right? So while he’s away, you mess with Han, then get huffy when he makes a move.”

  Is that why Clem had been smiling Saturday night, because he figured he had something on Sid now? “It wasn’t like that. He was drunk and misunderstood...”

  Rocklin cut her off. “And then you let Clem have a taste. Even told him that you like flirting with him. How stupid are you?” He slapped the brick. “Maybe I’m the stupid one. I believed you when you said you just wanted to drum. Did you lie to me? It makes me crazy, see? Are you wanting to play with us, or just play us?” He hit the wall again. “Before I kick you off stage you can damn well give me a taste, too.”

  Rock’s mouth covered Sid’s and his tongue probed for a way in. The back of her eyes stung. The tongue forced past the barrier of her teeth. Her hands wedged up to push the chest that was starting to press against her. His cheek crowded her nose and she could barely breathe. She tried to break free but he kept her crushed against the brick wall, sharp edges digging into her back. His tongue seemed to fill her mouth, almost making her choke.

  Then she felt his paw on her thigh, pushing her skirt up, up. She struggled harder but couldn’t break free. He squeezed her butt.

  Tears streaked down her face, salted her lips. Without warning, Rock stepped back. Sid almost fell onto her knees. She leaned against the wall and gasped for fresh air. The stink of beer clung to her.

  “Get out of my sight.” Rock turned away. “Get me another beer, Han. Better yet, let’s head to my place.”

  Feeling her way along the wall, Sid headed for the doors. She paused by Wes who was shaking his head. “I tried to warn you away.”

  “You knew this was coming? You helped set it up?” Sid’s fist pressed against the wall. She whispered, “Asshole,” and pushed away from the wall to leave.

  The doors closed on someone’s laughter. Not Wes’s. He’d almost looked sorry for her. Almost, but not quite. Sid hurried to the bathroom and proceeded to dry-heave into the sink. Someone walked in. Sid splashed water on her face and looked up. Her math teacher, Ms. Pilson.

  “I saw you running down the hall which is strictly.... You look quite ill, Sidney. Maybe I should take you to the office and find you a ride home.”

  Sid nodded and followed the teacher into the hall.

  “What’s wrong?” The teacher asked.

  Sid muttered, “Something I ate, maybe.”

  One of the secretaries drove her home, clucking all the way. Sid thanked her and dashed into the house. She brushed her teeth and gargled. Showered. Brushed and gargled again.

  She phoned Devin. “Am I a good person, big brother?”

  “The best.”

  “I wouldn’t play someone, would I?”

  “Never. What’s up?”

  “I don’t know. Everything’s so messed up I could cry.”

  “Maybe you should. Listen sis, you don’t want to tell me details, that’s fine. But remember all that mush stuff: I trust you. I believe in you. Always.”

  19 | closed hi-hat

  “Thanks,” she whispered. Then, dressed in sweats and a baggy shirt, she let the drums cry for her until, exhausted, she curled up on the floor behind the throne and fell asleep.

  On Wednesday, Sid wore one of her new pairs of jeans, but threw on her In Flames shirt. It seemed appropriate since she felt like she’d gone down in flames. She did a rush job on the makeup routine and didn’t bother to do anything with her hair other than comb it.

  Last night she’d avoided her tutoring session. A plus. Bigger plus: Brad had called. He’d talked to her dad first, apparently apologizing, then talked to her. Well, mostly he’d stuttered to her. Phone chatter wasn’t one of his

  strong points, it seemed. But he’d called, and said he’d call again on Friday to see if she had any time on the weekend. In the minus column, her period was making her lower back ache. And she still felt completely crummy from her run-in with Rock.

  She needed to tell someone about Wes the creep, arranger of great falls. Better yet, shout it from the rooftops. Except she didn’t want to tell Brad. What Rock had done to her had tarnished the wonderfulness of Brad’s kisses. It shouldn’t have; one had nothing to do with the other, but thinking about it made her want to gargle. Again. The best thing would be talking to Taylor but she hadn’t seen him all morning. She was so desperate that she almost considered going to see Mr. Brock.

  At lunch she hid in the library. Joanne found her in the stacks. “I saw you this morning. You looked upset.”

  “Did I? I’ll have to work on that.” Sid pulled the library’s only book on drumming off the shelf and opened it even though she knew it almost by rote. The conversation was over.

  Joanne didn’t get the hint. “Look, Sid. I know what this is like. Believe me or not, I’m offering my friendship here. Only friendship. You look like you need to vent.”

  Sid pressed her lips together. She heard genuine concern in Joanne’s voice. But could she trust it? Unexpected words burst out. “Rock kicked me out of tfd even though I did a great job on Saturday, all because his jerk-off friends couldn’t keep their mouths to themselves. He said it’d be better if I was a dyke. Want to date?”

  Joanne stepped back. “You don’t mean it. And you wouldn’t want to live a lie just to play with them. Do you really still want to if the guys are hitting on you?”

  “No. Yeah.” Sid squeezed her eyes shut. Did she still want to play for tfd? How could she when they were all such creeps? The problem was that she wanted to play. Just play. And they were the only band around even remotely interested. A line from that really old limbo song popped into her head: How low can you go? “I’m so freaking confused it hurts.”

  Joanne’s hand rested on her shoulder. “Do yourself a favour, Sid. Don’t make decisions when you’re confused.” Then she was gone.

  Coming out of the library, Sid noticed a handwritten sign on the wall above a fountain. Something about a video clip on the Internet. She noticed another on the way out of the school but didn’t stop to read it. Probably an ad for prom. Last year’s prom committee had done it and with the dance only three weeks away, this year’s organizers were probably following suit.

  On her way home, Sid decided that tonight was the night Taylor was going to speak to her. He didn’t usually work

  at the garage on Wednesdays so he should be home. She did her math homework right away. Feeling hungry for

  something that didn’t come ready-made out of a box, Sid decided to make some spaghetti and sauce, one of the few things she could cook reasonably well. She emptied a pre-mixed salad into a bowl and added chunks of cheese and cucumber. In half an hour she was sitting down and eating. No use waiting for James; he’d have to nuke the sauce whenever he got home.

  She rinsed her dishes and stacked them in the dishwasher. It was almost full so she added detergent and turned it on. She stood there for a minute, enjoying the vibration from the dishwasher against her soles, then headed out, grabbing her jean jacket as she went.

  A fine mist darkened the sidewalks and streets, but barely more than that. Sid lifted her face to the refreshing spray as she walked. Taylor was getting off his motorcycle and pushing it to the gara
ge when she got to his driveway. He didn’t notice her until she was right beside him.

  “Hey, Tay.”

  He stared, his perpetual tan gone, replaced by a white sheet.

  Sid circled the bike and stood right in front of him. “This is stupid. Tell me why you’re so pissed off at me.” He stared. Sid cried, “Talk to me, Tay! This is driving me crazy! I need my buddy. I need to talk to you. I need you to give me advice and tell me when I’m being stupid.”

  “You’re being stupid,” he croaked.

  “Funny. Please, Tay. I miss you.”

  “To talk to. To make you laugh.”

  “Well... Yeah.” The words dragged out tentatively.

  “But not to listen to.”

  “I listen to you. Make some sense here, please.”

  “You’re selling out, Sid. It’s been sickening watching you do pretty much anything to get into that freaking band.”

  “Not anything.”

  “Is that right? How much will you give to get what you want, Sid? I would rather you had let them believe you’re gay to get the gig, which says a lot when...” His face scrunched up as he worked to continue. “...when some of us are, are struggling with whether we are. Or not.”

  Shock stamped Sid’s features. She could feel it, but couldn’t get her mouth to close, her eyebrows to relax. Words faltered, stuttered. “Some? You? But...”

  He didn’t answer. “Heather changed you into this, this girl. When I saw you, looking so, so...freaking hot, it sucker punched me. I like you better in your old clothes. You were my pal in those clothes.” His face bloomed into a dusky rose. “Sometimes I look at a girl and think she’s hot. Then I look at some guys and.... You were always safe. Now I can’t look at my best friend without wanting –”

  Sid couldn’t stop staring. Shock continued to reverberate, scattering her thoughts. Taylor couldn’t have surprised her more if he’d sprouted a dragon wings and a tail.