Boring Girls(58)

“Well, give my regards to Blackskull,” I said, allowing my voice to take on a death-metal growl as I said the name. I smiled brightly and then walked out the side door, past their roadies, and through the parking lot to Socks’s van, where I helped Fern, Edgar, and Socks load in our gear.

xXx

Fern and I sat together in the backseat on the way home, Socks and Edgar sat up front, all of us quiet and tired. But my body buzzed. I kept replaying my confrontation with Paul and running through different possibilities in my mind. He’d been so cocky, sitting with the girls, and I wished I’d embarrassed him more. I kept imagining punching him in the nose, right in front of them, and then walking haughtily away. I grinned at the thought of him trying to look cool in front of his harem while wiping the blood away. I stared out the window into the darkness of the passing countryside and weighed the pros and cons of this fantasy scenario. Paul didn’t strike me as the sort to call the cops. And he sure wouldn’t have been able to hit me back. There wouldn’t have been any repercussions.

Socks broke the silence from the front seat. “So how do you guys feel about tonight?”

“I thought it was great,” I announced. “That band sucked so bad.”

“You shouldn’t have laughed,” Edgar said. “That was totally uncomfortable.”

“If you thought that was bad, you should’ve been there after the show,” I bragged. “I went up to Paul and totally told him where to go.” I explained to them how sarcastic I had been, unable to keep myself from laughing as I imitated my Blackskull closing line.

“Oh, jeez,” Edgar grumbled.

“They were terrible,” Socks said, “but we could have done way better.”

“No one was even thinking about us by the time they went on. I mean, they were so embarrassing, they made us look good,” I insisted.

“No, they didn’t,” Socks corrected me. “I agree that they were embarrassing, but that has nothing to do with how we did. I think we should look at how we did, and see how we can improve.”

“Yeah,” Fern nodded from beside me.

“Oh, we’ll do much better next time,” I said dismissively. Of course we all had learned from tonight’s show. I hadn’t forgotten about our performance, but I didn’t want to dwell on it.

“I don’t know how I feel about what you said to Paul,” Edgar said. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to burn bridges like that.”

My face got hot. “Burn bridges? What are you talking about?” My voice was rising; I couldn’t help it. “Do you really care if we have a good relationship with that band? You want to play with them again? Give me a break.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t like them,” Edgar said. “I just don’t want to start going around telling bands to f*ck off, you know? I think it’s probably important to keep good relations with the other metal bands around here, even if they suck.”

“Well, you can give Paul a call tomorrow if you want. Go for a coffee or something,” I snapped. “I don’t regret what I said. I’d do it again. And I’d probably say something worse. They suck. I never want to play with them again. They are *s. If you want to go buddy it up with Blackskull, be my guest.”

Everyone was silent when I stopped talking, and I started feeling stupid, which made me even angrier. I folded my arms and stared out the window.

Finally Fern spoke. “Rachel, they definitely were *s. I personally don’t care what you said to Paul —”

“Well, you should,” Edgar interrupted grumpily.

“But I do think Socks is right, we need to talk about our show,” she continued. “Otherwise no bands are going to want to play with us. We’re not going to be able to move forward.”

Everyone started talking about how we’d sounded versus how we’d looked, and how we needed to really try harder for more energy next time, and out loud I agreed and half-listened. I was still thinking about what Edgar had said. He seemed to think it was a bad move to establish myself as a force to be reckoned with. Why couldn’t he understand that it was obviously better to be aggressive? Not to take any shit from anybody? Maybe that was a good reputation to have. After all, this was metal music. What part of it did he not understand?





TWENTY-THREE


I was determined not to have a shitty show ever again. I wasn’t na?ve enough to think that wouldn’t take time and practise, of course, and I wasn’t stupid enough to ignore the fact that trying too hard could result in Heathenistic Bile–like stupidity. It was a fine balance.