Beat the Band (Swim the Fly #2)(61)

“These walls are permanently stained.” Mom wipes at the streaks on the wallpaper. “My towels. My counters. They’re ruined.” She rubs her thumb on a patch of green on the countertop, then studies me. “And our beautiful boy looks like some kind of freak!”

“We’ll clean it all up,” I say, trying to cut her off before she works up a full head of steam. Mom rarely gets mad, but when she does it’s colossal.

“I’ve put up with this long enough, Walter. I’ve had it. This tomfoolery has to stop. I can’t be the only adult in the house. You need to contribute. Start looking for another job. . . .”

Dad knits his brow. “But the band —”

“Hogwash. You’re just using that as an excuse not to grow up. The boys can do the band on their own.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Dad shakes his head. “Let’s not go crazy, now.”

“It’s over, Walter!” Mom glowers at him. “Understand?” With that, she marches out of the bathroom.

Sean and Matt look as embarrassed as I feel.

“Don’t worry about her,” Dad says. “I’ll smooth things out. It’s cool. Meanwhile, you guys make this”— he sweeps his hand at the bathroom and at us —“better. Somehow.”

Dad turns and leaves. As he heads down the stairs I hear him sputter, “‘Trying to represent.’ Jesus Christ.” He wheezes with laughter. “Bunch of chuckleheads.”





WE TAKE TURNS SHOWERING. And then we take turns showering again. Each time using more soap and hotter water. But still we look like the sort of freakish characters you’d see on a Saturday morning children’s program. Welcome to Creepy Street or something.

“Hey, Coop,” Matt says, rolling up his sleeping bag. “I forgot to thank you.”

“For what?” I stare at my orange hand. Flipping it over and over in disbelief.

“You know. For how kick ass we look.”

Matt and Sean break up in hysterics. Their glowing white teeth beam from between their stained lips. I’m glad they can see the humor in the situation. Though I can see their laughter turning to tears on a dime.

“It’s too bad Halloween’s over,” Sean says, sifting through the remains of last night’s junk food. “We could totally go as survivors of a nuclear meltdown.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I sit on my bed. The mattress springs squeak under my weight. “Have your laughs now. But you’ll see. This is all going to tone down by Monday and then we’ll see who’s thanking who.”

Matt and Sean share a look, then crack up laughing.

“Are you kidding?” Matt says. “Pale orange is still orange.”

Sean points to his cotton-candy lid. “And what the hell is this going to lighten to? Certainly not red. I might have to do a buzz cut before I go back to school. And buzz cuts are definitely not mariachi-like.”

I sweep this out of the air with my Martian hand. “That’s why we did this early. So we can tweak things. Your hair color’s the easiest thing of all. We’ll just buy a darker shade.”

“And maybe this time we’ll read the instructions.” Sean grabs a candy bar and waves it in the air. “Anyone want a Butterfinger?”

“That’s what she said,” I call out before I can stop myself.

Matt and Sean look at me, deadpan.

“What? It was too good to pass up. You have to admit.”

Matt stuffs his sleeping bag inside his duffel and stands. “All right. I’m out of here.”

“What are you talking about?” I hop off the bed. “We have a rehearsal. Helen’s coming over this afternoon. We need to practice.”

“Sorry.” Matt shoulders his duffel bag. “I need a break. I’m going to soak in a bath for the next twelve hours before Val sees me looking all jack-o’-lanterny. I’ll loofah myself until I bleed if I have to. And brush my teeth with coffee grinds.”

“Yeah, I’m out too.” Sean unwraps the candy bar. “I need to give my hands a rest from last night.”

“That’s what she said,” Matt calls over his shoulder as he heads out the door.

“You guys are so last month with that.” Sean pockets a few extra snacks before grabbing his backpack and taking off. “See you later.”

I lie back on my bed and contemplate calling Helen to tell her practice is canceled. But to tell the truth, I’m actually looking forward to seeing her. In fact, I’ve been looking forward to it ever since she left my house after dinner last night.

I figure we can use the time to do some work on our Health project. I know I should be worried about what she’s going to say when she sees me looking so ridic, but I have a feeling she’ll find it funny. And who knows? Maybe I’ll be able to play on her sympathy and parlay it into an all-afternoon chimney sweep.

Yeah, okay. And what happened to staying clear? Staying focused?

Oh, shut up. It’s just a daydream. Dreams are harmless.


For the next hour, I imagine all the different ways the two of us could end up naked together.

And then the doorbell rings.

Suddenly all my confidence melts away.

I leap from the bed and race around my room trying to find something to disguise myself with. Hoodie. Ski jacket. Baseball cap. Nothing I find covers me up enough.