Kiss And Blog (19 page)

And even though just a few seconds ago I may have been looking forward to bonding with her, I definitely don’t want to
bond over
this.
So I just stare at her. And then I go, “Huh?” like I have no idea what she could possibly be talking about. And then I shrug. And then I pick up one of my tacos and take a bite, chewing slowly and buying time, while my mind races ahead, wondering just how much she knows, and just why exactly it is that she’s asking.

But she just gives me this “I’m so not buying you” look, shakes her head, and goes, “Forget it.”

And just as I’m about to say, “No, really, please continue, ask me again, go ahead, elaborate if you must,” Evan, Elijah, and Clark appear, along with some guy named Mick who, from the bummed-out expression on Elijah’s face and the elated one on Hayden’s, is most likely her boyfriend. And as he sits down beside her, grabs one of her tacos, and starts talking about the strict, scary, military school his parents are threatening to send him to just because he’s getting a C in trig, I glance quickly at Elijah, who looks totally depressed, and think,
Dude, I know just how you feel.

Apparently, Shay was supposed to sing backup. Or at least fill in ‘til Rey got around to auditioning others. But since she’s now apparently persona non grata around here (or at the very least, failed to show up), Rey looks from Hayden to me and goes, “Okay, so who’s it gonna be?”

So I take the opportunity to point at the guys and go, “Well, what about them?”

But Rey just laughs and says, “Mick’s already on guitar, and Clark, Evan, and Elijah suck. Besides, we need a girl voice.”

Then Hayden shakes her head and goes, “Don’t look at me.”

And since I’m the only other girl left in the room, everyone turns to look at me. Then Rey goes, “Well, your dad rocks, so maybe you inherited some of that.”

And then everyone looks at me again and goes, “Huh?”

But I just shrug and head for the setup. I mean, I really don’t like to talk about my dad and his fifteen minutes of fame.

So after surviving a toned-down, abbreviated, warbled version of “Won’t Get Fooled Again,” which other than being hugely ambitious for a fledgling band, also happens to be one of the few songs I know every single nuance of since my parents practically piped it into my crib when I was a baby (I mean, most girls are raised on Cinderella rescue fantasies, so that they can grow up believing that Prince Charming is just one perfect pair of Jimmy Choo’s away, while Autumn and I were taught cautionary tales of war, political oppression, and dire warnings about “the Man”), Rey comes over and hugs me and goes, “You’re in.”

And I just stand there, eyes closed, completely enveloped in his arms, enjoying the feel of being so close to him. And even though I really don’t want to be “in,” it’s not like I tell him that. I mean, if nothing else it will give me a really good excuse to hang with him even more than I already do.

THE GOSPEL OF ELEANOR RIGBY

Get Behind Me Satan

So, maybe it’s evil, but I gotta admit just how enjoyable it’s been watching Princess Pink continue to hang out with the very people who are sabotaging her (Pastel Posse), while gazing suspiciously at everyone else. So far, she’s endured Post-its on her butt, slander on the bathroom walls (then again, it ain’t slander if it’s true and since that’s yet to be determined ...), the words “I Love Me” and “I’m a Slut” scrawled across her locker, and my very own personal favorite—a totally bogus MySpace page that displays an old, completely unflattering picture of her that was taken way before she became glamorous and popular, and that proclaims her love of hairy old men with super-long, crusty yellow toenails, confides how she can’t wait to buy K. Fed’s new CD, and reveals how she’s thinking about converting to Scientology so she can finally meet TomKat and possibly babysit for baby Suri.

And even though it’s all been admittedly fun to watch, the not- so-fun part is that I’m pretty sure she thinks the culprit is
me.
Because now that someone has stepped up the hate campaign, it’s pretty obvious that she’s stepped up hers against me. And I guess what it all comes down to in the end, is motive. And even though I
think it’s painfully clear how there’s one particular member of her posse who so did not appreciate getting demoted to second in line when P. P. became the most popular girl in school the instant she hooked up with Captain World, apparently that’s not so clear to P. P.

And because of that, she’s started waging this kind of low-key campaign against me. Recruiting all of her minions to start up the same old stuff I thought was long over. You know, like “accidentally” bumping into me in the hall, “accidentally” tripping me in class, and “accidentally” saying really mean, superderogatory things to me when I walk by.

And with that in mind, here it is, The List:

17.  Princess Pink is a big fan of the three-second rule, and apparently does not draw the line at public toilets. We were at the mall, in the bathroom, and right before she flushed I heard a splash (not what you think), followed by, “Oh, well.” And when she came out she was carrying a tube of lip gloss, all dripping wet with toilet water, which she then proceeded to dry off with a paper towel, as opposed to: (a) throwing it away, or (b) scrubbing it clean with a whole lot of antibacterial soap and scalding hot water, and then throwing it away. And so, still damp with bowl juice, she proceeded to twist off the top and glop it onto her lips, completely ignoring the fact of how she’d just retrieved it
from the toilet.

18.  P. P. doesn’t like to waste time in the morning by visiting the toilet when she can just relieve herself in the shower and kill two birds with one stone. “What’s the big deal?” she asks. “It all ends up in the same place!” Um, yeah, like a puddle up around your feet?

19.  In junior high, we were hanging in the food court at the Mission Viejo Mall drinking Cokes and sharing fries, when P. P. spotted her crush. She was so busy watching him that when she leaned down to take a sip of her drink she
missed her mouth and the straw wedged so far up her nose it required several yanks from me, mall security, and eventually, a paramedic, to dislodge it, while her grossed- out crush looked on.

Adios amigos,

Eleanor Rigby

Twenty

Things are getting weird, and I’m not sure what to do about it. I mean, on the surface everything looks great—I’ve got a new group of friends, I’m not fighting with Autumn as much, my dad’s preparing to go on TV (and I’ve actually made peace with it), and I’m finally starting to feel more comfortable with my role as backup singer in our new band, Social Exile.

But on the other hand, my mom has started dating (yes, of course I’m happy for her, but that doesn’t mean I’m not still a little freaked-out, since it seems like
I’m
the one who should be dating, and we all know that I’m not), not to mention how Rey is back with Shay (which I don’t think requires any further explanation).

And then, just to put me even more on edge, the other day, in the middle of the five free minutes between fifth and sixth period, I passed Sloane in the hall, and not only did she not trip me, scowl at me, bump into me, or curse at me, but she actually looked me right in the eye and nodded in a way that could
definitely be defined as a nonthreatening way of acknowledging my presence. And then, as if that wasn’t enough, she continued to look me right in the eye as she opened her frosty pink mouth to say, “Hey.”

And even though to the uninformed observer this may appear as just another completely benign greeting, I think by now we all know better. And I was caught so off-guard that I can’t remember smiling, waving, nodding, or doing anything that could remotely qualify as acknowledging her back. Though later, when I came to my senses, I realized that this seemingly innocent exchange could only mean one of three things:

1.   The Table A sabotage is moving along a lot quicker than I realized (since I admit to sometimes being a little preoccupied with Rey, and not as focused on her as I should be), and now she’s actually wondering if her enemy just might be
them
and
not
me, and so she is actively seeking an emergency backup friend just in case the whole thing blows.

2.   She’s slumming for votes as sophomore class Ice Queen (or whatever the hell they call the tiara wearer at that overblown wingding they call Winter Formal), and wants it so bad she’ll even deign to acknowledge me in hopes of a vote.

3.   She suffered a recent blow to the head, has been diagnosed with amnesia, and now says “hey” to everyone she comes across, just to cover her bases.

And then just as my plate is really starting to overflow, the very next day I discover that the blog is getting even bigger than I ever could have imagined.

I was at my locker, just changing out my textbooks and
minding my own business, when these three girls, standing just two lockers over, start talking about The List, speculating about who it might be, and wondering what kind of sick, demented person would make out with their own cousin.

I just stood there, frozen stiff, I mean seriously unable to move or do anything other than pretend I wasn’t listening, until the bell finally rang and sent them scattering off to class.

And then later when I was at Rey’s, and we were taking a break between sets, Pete, the drummer, goes, “Oh, man, did you read number thirteen? So sick!”

So Shay (a.k.a. the permanent groupie who hangs around more than ever now), goes, “Omigod, don’t tell me. I just started reading it and I haven’t gotten that far yet.”

And I just sit there sipping my water, and acting all calm and normal, while feeling completely amazed that people are actually requesting spoiler alerts. Which, truth to be told, actually makes me feel pretty excited. I mean, who would have thought that anyone would even read my blog, much less talk about it?

But then I start to think about Sloane, and how I’m exposing all of her dirty little secrets for the whole world to read, and I start to panic. I mean, even though I still think it’s pretty safe to assume that she hasn’t seen any of it yet, considering how she’s not so big on reading anything that spans more than a page and a half and doesn’t contain a beauty tip, a diet tip, and/or a corresponding color photograph of at least one of her favorite celebs. Not to mention how if she had actually read it, I sincerely doubt she’d be nodding at me in the halls and saying “hey,” no matter how bad she wants to be Ice Queen.

But still, just because she hasn’t read it
yet,
doesn’t mean she won’t be scrolling through it sometime in the near future, especially if enough people at school start talking about it. And I have no idea what I’ll do if that happens.

So we’ve been practicing almost every other day, and we’ve even come up with a list of almost twelve pretty solid cover tunes that are a decent representation of the last thirty years in music, and which, thankfully, does
not
include our mangled version of “Won’t Get Fooled Again” since we were smart enough to scrap that early on. And even though Rey’s got some pretty cool originals that we like to practice now and then, the fact is, most people just want to hear songs that they already know all the words to, so if you plan on playing for your peers, you’ve pretty much got to nail a few crowd-pleasers.

But the thing is, even though all this practicing has actually been kind of fun, I mean, it’s a good excuse to hang with Rey (even if Shay’s pretty much always there, too), and it really doesn’t require much more from me other than a lot of standing around and gossiping with Hayden since most the songs don’t even require a female backup singer, the truth is I’m still kind of unclear on just what exactly the point is. I mean, are we going for the big record deal? Hoping for an American Idol battle of the bands? Booking gigs on the Bar Mitzvah circuit?

It’s like, we’re pouring all this time and energy into all of these songs, and yet nobody’s ever made any mention of just exactly what it is we’re doing here, or what exactly it is that we’re trying to accomplish. We put in countless hours, rush our homework, and basically go to all kinds of trouble building a catalogue of songs that, from the looks of it, nobody outside of this room will ever actually hear.

And even though I’m fully aware that the only reason I’m here is so I can have a valid reason to hang with Rey after school without causing any undue suspicions, that doesn’t begin to address the question of just what the heck everyone else is up to.