Boring Girls(77)

“We’re on tour right now,” I said proudly. “Tomorrow we’re playing in Bridgeford.”

“Oh, well, that’s too far away for us, but if you ever come back to Port Claim, we’ll be here,” she said. “I’m going to buy one of your CDs.”

“Thanks,” I said, and as she moved over to talk to Socks, her friend stepped forward.

“I just want to say I think it’s awesome what you did,” the girl said shyly, looking from me to the floor nervously.

“We can’t let people push us around,” I agreed.

“I know. That guy was a jerk. I think you’re awesome.” She gave me a tiny smile.

I couldn’t help but lean across the table to hug the girl. “Thank you so much,” I said. I felt like a damn celebrity or something. She bought a CD as well. Socks grinned, flashing me the small stack of bills we’d made, and my face started to hurt from smiling so big.

Billy announced from the stage, “This next song is for our friends in Colostomy Hag. Usually it’s called ‘Fingernailed,’ but tonight we’re going to call it ‘Suck My Puke.’” Everyone cheered and we laughed.

I leaned back in my seat beside Edgar. “I wonder what happened to that *.”

“He got thrown out,” Edgar reported. “I guess the security guy at the door didn’t see what happened onstage, so when he saw the guy, he thought he was too drunk and had puked all over himself.”

“Oh, man! Are you serious?” I giggled.

“Yeah. I mean, the other security guy knew what happened, but the guy was a prick anyway so nobody bothered to help him out or explain it, you know?”

“Really.”

“Yeah, totally.” Edgar nodded. “Everybody seems to think you’re pretty amazing, Rachel.”

“If more people treated *s like *s, then anyone could be a hero.”

xXx

At the end of the night, after everyone had cleared out and the house lights had come back up, both bands started the loading-out process. Fern and I had changed back into our jeans. We were all pretty tired. I couldn’t wait to get to the hotel, have a shower, and get into a bed. We’d sold a bunch of CDs and made about two hundred bucks, which totally surprised us. After the gear was in both vans, we hung out with the other guys for a while in the parking lot.

“So, who wants to go grab some drinks?” Billy asked.

“I’m the only one who’s of age,” Socks said. “And the only driver.”

“Ah, okay. What time are you guys gonna pull out in the morning?”

“Probably around 10.”

“Okay. Well, we’ll see you guys tomorrow at the club then.” The guys started climbing into their van. I tried to catch Jamie’s eye, and when I did, he gave me a friendly smile and a wave. I wondered if I had only imagined that we’d sort of had a feeling between us earlier, because it seemed to be gone now. As we drove to our hotel by the highway, I kept thinking about that while the others chatted. Had the whole puking thing changed how Jamie looked at me? How could that be? I would have thought that my strength would have made me more appealing. I scowled at myself for even caring. So what if he didn’t think I was attractive anymore. I guess he was the sort of guy who wanted to date some precious wilting violet. Well, that wasn’t me.





THIRTY


The next shows were a definite introduction to what touring is really like. On the second night, I realized that I’d forgotten to pack more than one pair of knee socks, even though I’d brought four outfits. I was sort of grossed out realizing that I was going to have to wear the same pair for the rest of the shows. Socks, on the other hand, embraced that sort of thing — the rest of us were confused when we realized that he hadn’t brought any luggage, and then horrified when he said he planned to wear the exact same clothes the whole time. “It’s only four shows,” was his defence. Edgar tried to argue that at least some extra underwear might have been warranted, but Socks apparently didn’t see that to be the case.

It turned out that when I’d jumped onto the guy in Port Claim and bashed my knee, I had actually hurt myself. On the second morning a dark purple bruise had appeared, and it hurt to bend my knee. That was just something I was going to have to deal with. Every hotel we had booked had two beds in it — one for me and Fern, one for Edgar and Socks — so at least we could get pretty decent sleep.