Beat the Band (Swim the Fly #2)(88)

“We’re packed up and ready to go,” Sean says.

“No thanks to you two slackers.” Valerie laughs.

Helen and I stand up. Brush ourselves off. I take her hand, supporting her as we carefully make our way down the icy steps.

“Are you guys good?” Matt asks when we reach them.

Helen smiles. Looks at me. “Yeah. We’re good.”

“Cool,” Matt says.

“Hey, so who won?” Helen asks.

“Cheeba Pet.” Sean groans. “I mean, can you believe it? After that killer show we put on? They didn’t even have the courtesy to announce a second or third place. Just one winner. That’s all.”

“Yeah, well,” Matt says. “If it had to be anyone else but us, I’m glad it was them. Now, let’s get the hell out of here.”

The five of us head out across the snow-blanketed football field. Back toward the parking lot.

“Okay,” I say. “So, this is probably as good a time as any to start discussing our next gig.”

“Next gig?” Sean’s eyes saucer. “Don’t you think we should just go out in our blaze of glory?”

“Oh, come on.” I put my arm around Sean. “Are you really ready to say goodbye to El Mariachi?” I swing my other arm over Matt’s shoulder. “To The Doctor?”

“I think I’d survive.” Matt laughs.

“Okay, but hear me out,” I say, letting go of my buds and making a “marquee” gesture. “Just picture it. Arnold Murphy’s Bologna Dare at the spring talent show. It’s much less pressure. We only have to do two or three songs. Which we can certainly polish up in the next few months. And best of all, they don’t serve refreshments. So there’s nothing for people to throw.”

“You can’t be serious,” Val says.

“Helen, come on.” I turn to her. “You’re with me on this, right?”

“I don’t know, Coop.” Helen laughs. “I think Arnold Murphy’s Bologna Dare should probably retire.”

“Absolutely,” I say. “You’re right. We retire the name. It’s too quirky. We need something slick. Something more in your face. Like Sock Monster. Or Bag of Pants.”

Nobody says anything. They just keep walking.

I look left and right at my friends. “Don’t tell me I’m the only one with faith here. So we didn’t win the Battle of the Bands. Big deal. How epic will that look in our rockumentary? ‘Nobody knew just how famous they would become.’ It’s just like The Beatles and the Decca audition.”

Still, we walk in silence.

“Just say you’ll think about it.”

“No,” everyone responds in unison.

“All right.” I nod. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Matt quickly scoops up a hunk of snow, compresses it, and chucks it at me. The snowball explodes on my chest.

I look down at the crystals clinging to my coat. “You didn’t just do that.”

“Oh yes, I did.” Matt laughs and points at me. “And there’s plenty more where that came from, if you don’t zip it.”

“Okay, then.” I throw my hands up. “It’s on.” I reach down and grab some snow. Matt starts running. He’s too far away by the time I’ve got my snowball formed.

So, I turn and hurl it at Sean, whaling him in the shoulder.

“Hey!” Sean shouts. “What the hell?”

“Oops,” I say. “Friendly fire.”

I tear off toward the goalpost — the only cover available — and the snowball fight begins.

It doesn’t take long before a stray throw hits Valerie. And another clips Helen. Before you know it, everyone’s involved. Racing around the football field, laughing, and dodging snowballs. The winter air filling our lungs. The lights from the parking lot casting a faint glow, catching the flurries that drift down around us.

And I have to say, it’s the perfect cap to this insane semester, which was, as I predicted, epic.