WHAT DO YOU THINK?” Rhonda squealed the next morning as she thrust a neon-green flyer at me. It was covered in clip art of guitars and sunglasses and music notes and said “WE STINK ROCKS OUT! Come check out the BATTLE OF THE BANDS at the HVMS dance. BE READY FOR AWESOME!”
I could just hear the parts in capital letters screeching at me in Rhonda’s voice.
“Um,” I said. What do I think?
I thought she was nuts.
I thought I didn’t want people to watch me humiliate myself.
“The neon green is hurting my eyes” was all I could manage to say.
“YOU DON’T HAVE TO THANK ME!” Rhonda said, crushing me in a hug. “I JUST WANT EVERYONE TO COME SEE HOW GREAT WE ARE!”
“We?” I repeated. I didn’t like the sound of that.
“OUI, OUI!” Rhonda pulled out a roll of tape and stuck up one of the flyers. “IT’S SO COOL WHEN YOU SPEAK FRENCH!”
Uh, that wasn’t French, Rhonda.
“What’s that?”
The sharp voice behind me made me jump. When I turned, I saw Missy and her coven of witches. All three of them were scowling at the flyer. They had appeared instantly, like flies attracted to the scent of poo.
Rhonda stood against the wall, as if she had just been caught in a criminal act. I froze too.
We were in for an all-out ballistic attack. Run, Rhonda! Run!
But we both just stood there, as if our feet were stapled to the floor.
Missy walked right up to the flyer and ripped it off the wall. Then she gave Rhonda a look that could melt rock. “Why are you putting up posters for the dance?”
For a moment, Rhonda was too shocked to speak. Missy had never spoken to her directly before. “BECAUSE MY BAND IS GOING TO BE THERE.” Rhonda looked at me for backup.
“Your band?” Brittany echoed, gaping at Rhonda. “What instrument do you play—cowbell?”
Rhonda blushed. “WELL, I SING, BUT—”
“Please!” Missy cried. “You sing? I can feel my ears bleeding already.”
“She’s part howler monkey!” Brittany added.
Rhonda hung her head. Now was my chance to tell Missy and the B’s exactly what I thought of them.
So, what did I do?
