To meet You Again (4 page)

               
“You’ll
do it
with her?” Don smiled wryly.

               
“Don’t start with me, Vernal,” Angelo warned.

               
“I like that song, and I think we’d do a great job of it,” I smiled. “As for
me, I think I’ll choose…
‘Bubbly’ by
ColbieCaillat
.”

               
“Cute song,” Don remarked.

               
I blushed, “Thanks.”

               
“All right,” Angelo sat on his box drum thing. “So let’s start practicing.”

               
“Oh, wait,” Don mentioned, “there’s just one more thing.”

               
“What now?” Angelo complained.

               
“We need a name for the band,” Don said. Both Angelo and I burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Don asked.

               
“Angelo and I always joked,” I worked hard to contain my laughter as I
explained, “that if we ever became a performing duo we’d call ourselves the
‘Ruby Angels’!” Angelo and I burst out laughing again.

               
“Why is that funny? I think it’s a cool name,” Don was confused.

               
“If by ‘cool’ you mean ‘egotistical’, then sure,” Angelo chuckled. “So does
anyone have any ideas?
Hurry.
At this point I think
I’m willing to accept any name for as long as we can start practicing.”

               
“How about ‘Leviathan’?”
I joked.

               
Angelo laughed. “No. Not that.”

               
“
Leviathan
?The
mythical sea
creature?” Don cleared up.

               
“Also the title of a work by Thomas Hobbes, one of the great Western political
thinkers,” I replied. “It’s one of my favourites.”

               
“I think it’s a pretty cool name,” Don smiled.

               
I blushed again, “Thanks.”

               
“Okay, okay,” Angelo interjected. “So we’re going with ‘Leviathan’.
Everybody happy?
Now let’s start practicing.
One Direction.
‘What Makes You
Beautiful’.Go
five, six, seven, eight.”

               
I knew Angelo was trying to catch Don off-guard, but Don’s timing was perfect.
He started right on cue, and was actually pretty good. Angelo kept the beat,
and I sang. It was perfect right up until the chorus.

              
“The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed,” already had me trying to
stifle a laugh. But by the next line, “The way you smile at the ground,” I was
overwhelmed with laughter. Angelo was laughing, too.

               
“Why are you guys laughing?” Don chuckled. Laughter is contagious.

               
“Because!”
I laughed.
“Who the hell
smiles at the ground!?”
I demonstrated by widening my eyes and giving a
big toothy smile while looking down at the ground. Don was laughing, too. “See?
It’s ridiculous!”

               
“Okay,” Don suggested, “so maybe it’s not such a good idea for us to do the
songs you guys like to make fun of…”

               
“You think?” Angelo laughed.

               
“Alright, seven songs,” Don rolled his eyes and chuckled.

* *    
*     *     *

As I was having lunch with Angelo, scolding him
for being mean to Don during our first rehearsal, Don sat down with us.

               
“Speak of the devil,” Angelo rolled his eyes. “
Ow
,”
he said as I elbowed him.

               
“Behave,” I warned.

               
“Hey, guys, I have a proposition for you,” Don proclaimed.

               
“Oh no,” Angelo shook his head. “It’s already bad enough we agreed to be your
band for the fair. What next, you’re going to make us hand out flyers or make
posters? Let me just be clear: we are not part of your committee. We did not
volunteer. We are-”

               
“Angelo!” I scolded. “Let him speak. Jeez, you like to ramble.”

               
“Ramble? Or defend our rights as legal citizens?” Angelo smiled wryly.

             
“Is there a difference?” I playfully rolled my eyes. Angelo very gently pushed
my arm. “Anyway, so Don, what’s up?”

               
“Remember how you mentioned portability and how flash mobbing might be fun?”
Don began.

               
“Hmm,” I stoked my chin and then faced Angelo. “What do you think, my dear
friend?”

               
“Shall we say it together?” he proposed, just as we’d rehearsed it a thousand
times in the past.

               
Angelo and I faced Don and with a synchronized, firm nod each responded with a
resounding “No.”

               
“C’mon, guys-”

               
“No,” we repeated the exact same movement.

               
“But-”

               
“No,” once more.

               
“Will you let me explain?” Don pleaded. Both Angelo and I shrugged. “It’s not
flash mobbing, per say…”

               
“Duh, because a mob of three people isn’t a mob,” Angelo joked.
I high fived him.

               
“We’ll be giving a public service,” Don explained.

               
“What kind of service?” I asked.

               
“The one where we get paid to serenade people,” Don answered, smiling.

               
“Did you say ‘paid’?” Angelo was suddenly fully attentive.

               
“Of course,” Don smiled.
“For the concert performance, too.
You didn’t think you’d be doing that for free, did you?

               
“Sweet!”
I high fived Angelo
.“How
much?”

               
“Well, for the concert performance,
it’s
three hundred
dollars, which we’ll divide three ways…”

               
“I think you mean forty-forty-twenty split,” Angelo interrupted. “After all,
you had to force us to do it.”

               
“But you agreed to do it,” Don argued. Angelo shrugged. “Anyway,” Don
continued, “And then it’s five dollars per song. The three of us will be
excused from class from tomorrow up until the fair.”

               
“Did you say ‘excused from
class’
?” I exclaimed. Don
nodded happily. I jumped up and cheered, “YES!” Angelo had jumped and cheered
with me, and arm in arm, we started sort of hopping in a circle.

               
“Wow you guys really like money and cutting class, don’t you?” Don mused.

               
“Who doesn’t?” I pointed out.

               
“Remember guys, this isn’t just some random free pass for the week,” Don
reminded. “We’ll be spending the time going from classroom to classroom,
singing.”

               
“Yeah, yeah, easy,” Angelo dismissed. “As long as there’s money involved, I’m
in.”

               
“Good, because I already told the committee we’d start tomorrow, and I set up a
request box,” Don took out a wooden box and opened it. There were at least
twenty slips of paper in there. “So,
who’s
house are
we going over to tonight?”

Angelo and I stared at the mound of papers, and
then at each other, and then glared at Don.

**    
*     *     *

The next day, we had to go all the way up to
the fourth floor for our first job… at eight in the morning.

               
I’m sorry, but no person deserves the torture of aching thighs that early in
the morning.
Especially if you’re not particularly athletic.

               
“So which song is this one?” I yawned.

               
“The One Direction song,” Don held the neck of his guitar in one hand and a
piece of paper in the other. “Ah…
Little Things?”

               
“Oh, that one,” I rolled my eyes.

               
“What?” Angelo asked. “I think it’s an okay song.”

               
“Seriously?”
I raised an eyebrow. “You do realize that
this song is by one of the artists you absolutely hate, right?”

               
“Hey, an okay song is an okay song no matter who wrote it,” Angelo shrugged. “I
think the girl we’re going to sing it to will really appreciate it. She might
even cry.”

               
I scoffed, “Yeah right.”

               
“Want to bet?” Angelo challenged. “Ten says I’m right.”

               
“You’re on,” I shook his hand.

               
Don knocked on the door and opened it, “Excuse me, Mr. David. We’re here to
sing a song for someone.”

               
“Sure, come in,” Mr. David nodded and then sat down at the front desk.

               
“Good morning everyone,” I stretched. “Now I understand how all of you feel on
Tuesdays, walking up four flights of stairs every morning.” The class laughed,
and I froze when I noticed Melissa Kier staring. I couldn’t even put a meaning
to it because it was out of context. I had no idea what had happened between
her and Don, so I couldn’t possibly know what it meant. Did she want him back
or did she resent his being there? I looked back at Don, who also looked
uneasy. Did he want her back or did he begin to regret us offering this “public
service”?

               
“So,” Angelo noticed my uneasiness and took over, “this one is for a very
special Helena, from one Mark Pierce.” My eyes shifted over to a girl in the
corner whose face lit up. That must have been her. She was perfectly pretty and
perfectly thin. What did she have to be insecure about?

               
“His message,” Don added, shaking his head and focusing his gaze onto the
paper, “says ‘Dear Helena, I love you very much and you know that. I just hope
that one day you’ll learn to love yourself as much as I do’.” I wanted to roll
my eyes, but there were too many people. Somebody would have noticed. “So
without further ado,” Don looked at me. He plucked the first four counts,

               
“Your hand fits in mine like it’s made just for me…” I turned to Don and made
bear claws as I sang “But bear this in mind” and he laughed and shook his head.

               
As I sang, Angelo did the second voice, as we practiced last night. He said he
was too lazy to bring his box drum thing around, so he figured he’d just sing.
I could hear the smile in his voice as I saw Helena’s eyes water. Damn. I very
subtly inched in front of Angelo and pulled out my wallet from my back pocket.
I pulled out a bill and figured Angelo would give me the change later. I turned
back to face him and he grinned widely.

               
By the end of the song, Helena was blowing her nose into a tissue. “Will you
tell Mark ‘thank you’ for me?”

               
“Of course,” my smile was flat and stretched out. Thanks for helping me lose
ten, Helena. If it were pounds, that ‘thank you’ would not have been sarcastic.

               
As we exited the classroom, I passively said, “Have a great Valentine’s week
everybody.” And then I felt Don put a hand on my shoulder. He leaned in and
whispered,

               
“That was great. You know, I believe you’re the reason Helena cried, not the
song.”

               
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help but smile, “Thanks, I think.”

               
“Yeah, she cried because you’re a terrible singer,” Angelo sneered. I slapped
him,

               
“Oh, so if you’re admitting she didn’t cry because of the song, give me back my
money.”

               
“Never,” Angelo stuck his tongue out. I smacked him on the arm again.

**    
*     *     *

As a condition of our arrangement with the
Valentine’s committee, we were allowed a lunch break an hour earlier than
everyone else so we could serenade people during the lunch break as well.

               
As such, we decided to spend our lunch break in the music room so we could do
last minute rehearsals.

               
Angelo got up and stretched, “I’m going to go and use my winnings to buy some
chocolate.”

               
“Whatever,” I rolled my eyes.

               
“Don’t worry, I’ll get you guys some, too,” Angelo reassured. “After all, the
only thing good about Valentine’s Day is…”

               
“All chocolate is on sale,” Angelo and I said in unison. “Happy Valentine’s to
us!” With that, Angelo walked out the door.

               
“What do you guys have against Valentine’s Day?” Don asked as he sat on the
teacher’s desk.

               
“What’s there to have for it?” I countered as I jumped on and sat beside him.