Beat the Band (12 page)

Miss Jerooni harrumphs. She’s about to sit at her desk again, but then thinks better of it and grabs her book, retreating to the safety of her glassed-in office and shutting the door behind her.

“You think I can sue the school for food poisoning?” I ask Helen before unleashing another violent buttquake. “I think it’s causing serious damage down there.”

Fanny and Alexander are fluttering around their cage like mad, slamming into each other, their feathers flying as they look for some escape from the onslaught. But there’s nowhere to go. And Miss Jerooni doesn’t look like she’s coming out of her office to save them anytime soon.

“Here,” Helen says, breathing through her shirt and shoving several books toward me. “Just find all the pros and cons of the various contraceptive methods and write them down. I’m going to do some research on the Internet.”

“Wait,” I say, trying not to bust up. “I had a question.”

Helen’s already standing. “What?”

BRRRRAAAAP!
I launch another thundering boomer. Then sniff the air.

“Does that smell like ham to you? ’Cause I’m thinking now it might have been the Italian Dunkers.”

Helen groans and races off toward the open window and the computer in the corner.

There’s a real sense of satisfaction when you put a plan into action and it all charts out exactly how you thought it would. I lean back in my chair, breathing in the sweet smell of success — which, in this case, has a slight elephanty odor to it — when I hear some girls laughing in the hallway.

I’m enjoying my victory too much for it to really register at first.

Until I see three of the Phenomenal Four step into the library.

It takes half a second for the odorama to make an impression on Prudence, Bronte, and Gina.

And the remaining portion of that very same second for me to realize that I have beefed myself into a corner.

ALL THREE GIRLS STOP DEAD
, like they’ve run into a concrete wall, their hands shooting up to cover their noses.

“Holy crap!” Prudence makes a face. “Who opened a grave in here?”

Think! Quick!

I make eye contact with the girls, then point surreptitiously toward the librarian in her glass-enclosed office. “Miss Jerooni’s been floating air bagels ever since we got here,” I say. “It got so bad we finally had to ask her to go sit in her office.”

“I thought this was the library, not the bathroom,” Bronte says through her cupped hand.

“Prudence.” Gina pinches her nose and looks like she might cry. “I think I’m going to puke. Literally.”

Prudence rolls her eyes. “Like that would be so bad for you.”

Gina looks mortified. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, just shut up and go find the dress pattern books.”

“I hate smelly smells,” Gina whimpers nasally.

Prudence clenches her jaw and hisses through her teeth, “Then stop wasting time and go get the goddamn books. Both of you.” She shoos them away.

Bronte and Gina scurry off, huddled close together like scolded children.

Prudence sighs, then looks and me. “Why would you stay and wallow in this stink?”

“I don’t have a choice.” I gesture toward Helen sitting at the computer in the back of the room. “I tried to ditch Helen as my partner. All I got was detention.”

She glances at Helen. “Ew.
She’s
here?” Prudence makes a face. “I don’t know how you can work with
it
. I wouldn’t be able to.”

“Yeah, well, Fate screwed me,” I say. This is good. We both feel bad for me. People have leaped into the sack with much less in common. “Seems like the harder I try to get out of it, the more time I end up having to spend with her.”

Prudence’s eyes slide back to me. Then to Helen. Then to me again. “Maybe you just haven’t tried the right thing.”

“What do you mean?”

Prudence gestures with her head toward the door. “Take a break. In the hall.”

Most people would worry that, with a gut full of gas, they might end up carving off a hunk of havarti right in front of one of the hottest girls in the entire school. But I’m not most people. I have near-superhuman control over my sphinc. I once bet Matt and Sean that I could beef out the first verse of “Amazing Grace.” It was the easiest ten bucks I ever made.

Prudence lures me through the door and into the hall, her body looking assassin in a lion-print top and hip-clinging jeans. The serpent tattoo on the bull’s-eye of her lower back just barely visible.

Oh, God. If I could just spend one night with her, running around and around the bases, it’d totally be worth dying for. Because, really, after that, what would you have to look forward to?

Well, unless of course you could get her friends to join the baseball game for a seventh-inning stretch. Now
that
would be worth sticking around for.

Prudence turns and flashes a sex kitten grin at me. “She’s been slagging you, you know? I mean, you’ve probably already heard, but just in case you hadn’t, I thought you should know.”

“Helen? Really?” My stomach gurgles its displeasure. I clear my throat to try to mask the sound. “What’s she been saying?”

“Talking smack. What else? For one, she says you’ve been coming on to her —”

“That’s bullshit.” I’m so surprised that a breezer nearly takes flight without authority from air traffic control. But I clench my butt cheeks right quick and abort the launch.

“She said you asked her to the movies. And that you tried to make out with her.”

I shake my head. “Are you for serial? Why would she say that?”

“Pfff.”
Prudence smirks. “Because that’s who she is. Why do you think everyone hates her so much? She’s a liar. And a bitch. You don’t get that despised for no reason, right?”

I glance toward the library. “Yeah, I guess.”

Prudence leans in close, the warm peach smell of her breath on my cheek. “So, do you want to hear my plan?”

“Got ’em,” Bronte says, stepping from the library and waving a couple of dress pattern books in the air.

Gina lets out the breath she’s obviously been holding this whole time. She gasps. “I swear. I literally almost
died
in there.
Literally.
Who knew Miss Jerooni was such a stanky skank?”

Prudence looks at her friends. “I’ve just be telling Cutie Coop here what the Sausage Queen’s been saying about him around school.”

Cutie Coop?
Whoa. Did I miss something? When did we start referring to each other by endearing pet names? Not that I’m complaining. Sure, it’s not the butchest nickname in the world, but coming from the lips of such a hottie, I kind of love it!

Bronte looks momentarily confused, then grins. “Oh, yeah. The rumors. They’re pretty bad.”

“I hate false rumors,” Gina says, looking at her fingernails. “Especially when they’re not even true.”

“You guys heard Helen talking about me?”

“Totally.” Bronte laughs. “Everyone’s heard.” She glances at Prudence, who starts circling me.

Prudence plays with the gold necklace that dangles around her cleavage. “What do you think, girls? Shall we help the poor lamb?”

Gina tilts her head, giggling. “He does kind of look like a lamb. Like the cute little chubby one I sleep with every night.”

I’d offer to be her cute chubby lamb, but I’m starting to feel like the shock of Prudence’s revelation may have compromised my sphincter seal. I’m going to have to end this conversation before my unsteady bowels end it for me. “Can we talk about this later? I should probably get back in there before —”

“Helen’s been threatening to transfer to Our Lady of Mercy for two years now,” Prudence says, completely ignoring me. “Frankly, we’re all getting a little sick of hearing about it.”

Someone’s coming down the hall. It’s Andy Bennett. Perfect timing.

Now, generally, Andy is the last person in the world I want to see. But right here, and right now, there isn’t another person I’d rather have approaching us.

“I’m thinking that maybe we could just help Helen make up her mind,” Prudence continues. “You know, give her a bit more incentive to transfer to a new school. You think you’d be up for that, Coopee?”

“Sure,” I say, but my mind is too preoccupied with my immediate plans to be paying close attention.

“Well, well, well.” Andy and his walrus whiskers step up beside me. “What are you beauties doing wasting your time with this beast?”

He claps me on the shoulder and I give him a big grin as I ease out a nice long-drawn-out S.B.D.

The moist-manure stench is almost instantaneous.

“Jesus Christ, Andy!” I leap away from him. “What the hell? Were you eating lunch with Miss Jerooni today?”

Andy freezes, completely confused. Until, all of a sudden, he’s blinking hard.

The girls shriek, clapping their hands over their noses and backing away from him.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you, Andy?” Bronte shouts through her hand.

“That wasn’t me!” Andy’s head swivels like crazy. “I swear.”

I point at him. “He who denied it, supplied it.” I take off down the hall before the girls have time to put all the pieces together. “Run for your life!” I call over my shoulder. “Before he sneaks off another one.”

The girls squeal and scatter in the other direction, leaving Andy alone, confused, red-faced, and holding the beef bag.

I HAMMER MY CYMBALS
, Sean rakes his hands up and down the keys on his Casio, and Matt thrashes like crazy on a three-quarter-size Torino Red Squier Mini guitar, as we bring our very first song to a hard-driving ecstatic conclusion.

“Yes!” Sean shouts, thrusting his fist in the air.

Valerie and Dad sit side by side on the old gray sofa with stunned looks on their faces. Completely silent.

Were we
that
good?

Or were we that bad?

My drums were pretty loud, so I had a hard time hearing the other instruments. But it
felt
good.

Dad finally blinks. “Wow,” he says. “That was . . .” He blinks again. “Wow.”

A burst of laughter escapes from Valerie’s lips.

Oh, crap. So we sucked.

Valerie buries her face in her hands. “Oh, my god.
Désolé! Désolé!
I’m sorry!” God, that accent can be so grating sometimes. She tries to hold in her laughter for a second, but then rolls over on the couch and starts cracking up.

My skin prickles with embarrassment. Why’d she have to come here, anyway? I thought they made a deal. Chess club for girlfriend-free afternoons.

“That was
awesome,
” Sean crows with a big clueless grin on his face. “Did we not rock the hell out of that, or what?”

“Muzzle it, Sean,” I say, my cheeks flaming. “We were crap.”

Sean looks suddenly bitch-slapped. He glances at Matt for confirmation of my assessment but Matt just stares at the floor.

“No, no.” Dad stands and runs his hand down his face. “This was . . . um.” He starts to pace. “This was a starting point.” He scratches his head. “I mean, yes, we have some work to do —”

This sends Valerie — who’d finally begun to compose herself — back into fits. “I’m sorry. Seriously, I just . . . Didn’t you guys have to hand in a demo? I mean, what was on that?”

Dad and me lock eyes.

“It was an older recording,” I say. “We haven’t played together in a while.”

Dad raises his hand. “Let’s not lose our heads here. There were a lot of positives. I mean, Coop, you were giving it your all. And Matt, you were, you know, showing some real energy there.” Dad strums an air guitar furiously. “And Sean. You definitely . . . were standing up straight and tall.” Dad’s eyes slide off to the side. “I just . . . I don’t think you guys are as bad as you sound.”

Oh, God. I want to crawl inside my bass drum.

Valerie wipes the tears from her eyes. “No. He’s right. Absolutely. There were moments I could almost tell what song you were playing.” Her body shudders with suppressed laughter. “What song
were
you playing?”

“‘Satisfaction,’” Sean blurts.

“‘Twist and Shout,’” I correct.

“But I thought”— Sean shuffles the sheet music on the ironing board he’s using as a keyboard stand —“Didn’t we say . . . ?”