Double Date (3 page)

She nodded. “A little.”

“We could use a singer,” Bobby told her. The idea had just popped into his head. “I'm a great guitar player. And I sing okay too. But we could use a girl singer. Maybe you or your sister—?”

“Samantha might like that,” Bree replied thoughtfully. “Her voice is a lot stronger than mine.” She hesitated, moving a step and staring down into the open locker. “I don't think I could sing rock music.”

“You're quiet, huh?” Bobby asked.

Pink circles formed on her pale cheeks.

“Quiet like a mouse?” Bobby teased.

She giggled. “Not
that
quiet.” Her hair fell over her eye again. She made no attempt to smooth it away.

“Our band is playing at a club Friday night,” Bobby told her. “It's a dance club for teenagers. On Old Mill Road. You know it? It's called The Mill.”

Bree shook her head. “No. We just moved here last year. I haven't been—”

“You busy Friday night? Want to come hear us?” Bobby asked.

He could see surprise in her eyes. The pink circles on her cheeks grew darker. “Well—”

“We wouldn't have to stay at the club if you don't like it,” he added quickly. “My band is doing just one set. We could leave right after. You know. Go somewhere else.”

She raised her eyes to his and stared hard at him as
if trying to read his thoughts. “Okay,” she said. “Sounds like fun.”

“Way cool,” Bobby replied. He stepped back as she turned to pull her backpack out of the locker.

“Know where I live?” she asked. “It's on Fear Street. Way at the end.”

“I'll find it,” Bobby told her. “See you Friday. About seven-thirty.”

He flashed her his most winning smile, then took off for his locker. He knew she was watching him, admiring his walk.

Piece of cake, he thought, very pleased with himself. That was almost too easy.

She's really shy, he decided. But I could see how excited she was that I asked her out.

“One down,” he murmured to himself, “and one to go.”

“Way to go, man!” Arnie slapped Bobby an enthusiastic high-five.

Bobby did an exaggerated strut around his bedroom. “I'm cool, I'm cool!” he chanted.

“So which one did you get a date with?” Arnie asked.

“Bree,” Bobby told him. “Rhymes with
me.
Bree and me!”

“What rhymes with Samantha?” Arnie demanded. “Pink pantha?”

As usual, Bobby didn't laugh at his friend's lame joke. “I'm cool. I'm cool!” He did a little more strutting around his bedroom.

Arnie had stopped by after dinner, as he often did, mainly to avoid doing his homework. Bobby had
immediately told him that he'd already asked Bree Wade out that afternoon and, of course, she'd said yes.

“They just can't say no to Bobby the Man!” he cried. He slapped Arnie another high-five. “Who's the Man, Arnie? Who's the Man?”

“You the Man!” Arnie obediently replied. He dropped on top of Bobby's red and white bedspread, sprawling on his back, resting his head in his hands. “What about her sister?”

“I'm calling her right now,” Bobby said. “I'm glad you came by, man. You can listen. You can be a witness as I make history!”

Arnie laughed. He was enjoying this as much as Bobby.

Arnie is my biggest fan, Bobby realized. That's why we're such good friends.

“You're really going to ask Samantha out for Saturday night?” Arnie asked, sitting up and stretching his arms up over his head.

Bobby nodded, grinning as he reached for the cordless phone.

“And you're going to tell her not to tell Bree?” Arnie dropped onto his back again.

Bobby nodded again. He searched for the Wades' phone number in the Shadyside High directory he kept by the phone. “Two Wades in one weekend,” he muttered, moving his finger down the column of names and numbers. “That's the challenge. And I accept the challenge.”

“You the Man!” Arnie proclaimed. “You the Man!”

Bobby punched in the number, then pressed the phone to his ear.

“What if Bree answers?” Arnie demanded. “What if Bree answers and you think it's Samantha?”

“Hey, I can tell them apart,” Bobby declared. He raised a finger to his lips, signaling Arnie to be silent.

The phone rang twice. Then a girl's voice on the other end said hello.

Bobby cleared his throat. “Hello—Samantha?”

“
Y
es, this is Samantha. Who's this?”

“Hi, Samantha. It's Bobby Newkirk.”

“Oh. Hi!” She sounded very surprised. “Bree and I were just talking about you.”

Bobby's smile faded. “Oh. Is she there? In the room with you?”

“No. Bree is downstairs. Want me to get her?”

“No!” Bobby replied quickly. “I wanted to talk to
you,
actually.”

“Me?” Her voice wasn't soft and velvety like Bree's. Samantha spoke loudly, Bobby knew.

“Bree said you might be interested in singing with our band,” Bobby said, smiling over at Arnie.

Arnie, sprawled on his back on the bed, flashed him an a-okay sign for encouragement.

Samantha laughed scornfully. “Me? Sing with a band? You're kidding!”

“Want to try?” Bobby asked.

“No way!” Samantha cried. “Why would Bree
say
that?”

Bobby chuckled. “I don't know. But that's what she told me.”

“Weird,” Samantha said. “Well—no thanks. I sound good only in a big group. Or in the shower.”

They both laughed.

Arnie sat up, listening intently to Bobby's side of the conversation.

“You busy Saturday night?” Bobby asked casually.

Silence at the other end. He could imagine the stunned expression on her face.

“Want to go to a movie? You know. At the Tenplex?”

More silence. Then finally, Samantha replied in a hushed tone just above a whisper. “But, Bobby, you asked my sister out for the night before.”

“Yeah, I know,” Bobby replied.

He could hear her short, rapid breathing on the other end. He knew she expected him to say more. So he didn't.

“I don't think Bree would like it if I went out with you the next night,” Samantha said, speaking thoughtfully.

“She doesn't have to know about it,” Bobby suggested, his voice steady and low. He listened to her breathing, trying to determine what her reaction was.

“Is this a dare or a bet or something?” she demanded angrily. “Did someone dare you to go out with us both? Is that it?”

“No. No way!” Bobby insisted. “I've been thinking
about you. I mean, I see you in homeroom, and I thought—”

“It's not a dare?” she demanded suspiciously.

“No. No way. I swear, Samantha.”

A long silence. Bobby waited patiently, his eyes on Arnie.

She's going to say yes, he told himself. She's hot for me and she knows it. She is
stoked.
She's no different from all the other girls at school. She wants to go out with Bobby the Man.

“Bobby,” she said finally, “do you really think I'd do that to my sister?”

“Sure you would,” Bobby urged. “Sure you would. You
know
you're dying to go out with me—right?”

“You're really conceited,” she replied.

“Yeah, I know,” Bobby told her. “It's my best quality.”

Samantha laughed appreciatively. “I
like
conceited guys!” she declared.

I've
got
her! Bobby told himself gleefully.

“So you'll go out with me Saturday night?” he urged.

“Yeah. Okay,” she replied. “To the movies, right?”

“Right,” Bobby said, flashing Arnie a two-fingered victory sign. “And it'll be our secret? I mean, your sister—”

“What she doesn't know won't hurt her—much,” Samantha said.

It struck Bobby as an odd thing to say. He didn't quite get her meaning. He decided to let it pass. “Maybe we'd better meet at the mall,” he told her. “So Bree won't know.”

“Good thinking, Ace,” Samantha replied. “And we can wear masks so no one will recognize us.”

Bobby laughed. “That was a joke, right?” She had such a deadpan delivery, it was hard to tell if she was joking or not.

“Yeah. A joke,” she replied dryly. “Uh-oh. I think I hear Bree. I've got to go.”

“Meet you Saturday at eight,” Bobby said quickly.

“Bye,” she whispered. A sexy whisper.

The line went dead.

Bobby tossed the cordless phone into the air. It landed softly on the plush carpet. He turned to Arnie, a triumphant grin on his face. Then he began to do his strut step around the room in celebration.

“I wish I was double-jointed so I could pat myself on the back!” he cried.

“You did it!” Arnie cried. “I don't believe it! You did it! This is the coolest thing I ever heard of!”

“Yeah, it is, isn't it!” Bobby agreed.

He and Arnie did some more celebrating, the two of them strutting around the room, shouting and whooping.

Finally Arnie stopped, a thoughtful expression on his face. He scratched the line of fuzz above his upper lip. It was always itching him. “Samantha isn't going to tell her sister?” he asked.

Bobby shook his head. “It didn't seem to be a problem for her at all.” He grinned. “Samantha seems really cool. I mean
really
cool!”

“Wow,” Arnie murmured. “Wow.” And then he added, “I wonder why Melanie was so bent out of shape about this.”

Bobby shrugged. “Who knows? Melanie is weird. I warned you, man.”

Arnie shook his head. “But why did she think it was so important to warn you not to go out with the Wade twins?” he demanded.

“I don't know
what
Melanie's problem is,” Bobby replied. “I really don't. I mean, what could happen, man? What could happen?”

B
ree looked awesome, Bobby thought. She wore a short black skirt over red tights and a silky, sleeveless red T-shirt. She had tied herblack hair back with a red ribbon. But it had come loose soon after they arrived at The Mill Now it flowed down past her shoulders, waving behind her as she clapped and swayed to the music.

Bobby watched Bree from the small stage as his fingers moved through the opening notes of “That'll Be the Day.” Through the flashing red and blue lights, he could see her standing alone near the back of the dance floor, clapping to the beat.

What an excellent sound system! Bobby thought. He smiled at Paul and Arnie as their music flowed out over the crowded, throbbing dance floor. We sound
great!

Bobby began to do his Chuck Berry strut. His hands moved automatically. The music flowed through him, around him,
inside
him.

The set ended too quickly. Bobby wanted the quaking, shaking blur of throbbing sound and flashing lights, dancing bodies, shouts, and cheers to go on forever.

“They love us!” Bobby cried as he stepped off the stage. “They love us!”

The cheers faded as the deejay turned the music up. The lights continued to flash. Red and blue, red and blue. Bobby pushed through the jumble of twisting, bobbing bodies and shadows to the back of the dance floor, where Bree waited for him.

“How was it?” he shouted. He grabbed a used napkin from a table and mopped the sweat off his forehead.

“What?” Bree shouted.

He leaned closer and shouted over the music, “How was it?”

She smiled. “Great!” Her tiny voice barely rose over the vibrating bass, the steady thud of synthesized drums.

“It's too loud to talk!” Bobby shouted into her ear. “Let's just dance.”

They danced for a few songs. Bree, he saw, was too self-conscious to be a good dancer. She can't let go and just dance, he realized. He could see the concentration on her face as she struggled to keep the beat.

“Could we go somewhere and get some fresh air?” she pleaded as the second dance number led into the third. She pushed her dark hair off her shoulders, then grabbed his hand in both of hers and tugged him away. Her hands were hot and wet.

Near the exit they ran into Paul. He had his keyboard under his arm and was heading out.

“We were great! We were awesome! Rock ‘n' roll!” Bobby cried, slapping him on the back.

Paul smiled halfheartedly. “We were doing okay, Bobby, until you pulled your amp cord out. Why did you decide to start strutting and dancing around like that?”

“Show biz, man!” Bobby cried. “Show biz. You've got to put on a show for them! Rock ‘n' roll, man! They loved us! Did you see their faces? They loved us!”

Paul shook his head. “But you were taking away from us, man! We looked like your backup group.”

“They loved us!” Bobby repeated. “They ate it up!”

“Later,” Paul said. He smiled at Bree, then pushed open the door and disappeared.

Bobby realized he was still holding Bree's hand. It felt tiny and soft inside his. He leaned close to her so he could smell her hair. It smelled like coconut.

She's really great looking, he told himself. A lot of guys are staring at me. They're jealous because I'm with her and they're not. Too bad she can't dance. And too bad she's so shy. She barely said two words when we drove to the club.

Bobby glanced back at the dance floor, flooded in swirling red lights. Arnie was dancing with Melanie. Bobby gave Arnie a wave and a shout, but Arnie couldn't see him.

Melanie looks really chubby in those shorts, Bobby thought nastily. Hope she doesn't split them open. Actually, I hope she does!

When he had entered the club earlier, Melanie had greeted Bree warmly and deliberately snubbed Bobby.