Don’t make me go,” I begged Sam. I just wanted to stay on the dance floor, shuffling around with him forever.
“I can’t wait for you guys to perform,” Sam said. “It’ll be great!”
“Great?” I repeated. “Yeah, great for Missy.”
“You aren’t worried about her, are you?” Sam asked. “What could she possibly do to you?”
Oh, probably nothing too serious. Force all the other kids to boo us? Bombard my head with tomatoes? Send Fabio to pee on my leg?
Sam must have seen the horror on my face, because he said, “It’ll be fine. I promise.”
“Just don’t let her use a hook on me.”
“You mean like Captain Hook?”
That was a really scary thought. “Any kind of hook.”
Sam promised and then walked me over to the stage. Nanci, Mari, and Patti were there, listening as the first band—or should I say bland—lulled everyone to sleep.
Rhonda rushed up to us. “LET’S BUST SOME EARDRUMS!” she Rhonda-whispered.
“Um, guys, I told Rhonda she could sing a song with us,” I said. Then I kind of scrunched up my face. I’m not sure what I was expecting. Gasps of horror? Shouting?
Mari nodded. “Sounds good.”
“Welcome to We Stink,” Patti told Rhonda, who lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Well, okay, then,” I said. I mean, why shouldn’t Rhonda perform with us? It’s not like we can be much worse than we are.
The band before ours finished up, and Missy announced us. “Okay, everyone. I’ve heard this next band, and let me say this: It really lives up to its name. So put in your earplugs—and maybe put on a blindfold too. Let’s hear it for They Stink!”
A few halfhearted claps. Someone whistled. Probably Sam.
But Rhonda just stomped right up to the microphone. “ARE YOU READY TO ROCK?”
“Yeah!” Sam shouted. His voice echoed through the silent gym.
“I CAN’T HEAR YOU, HVMS! I SAID—ARE YOU READY TO ROCK?!”
“Yeah!” A few more people chimed in this time.
“LET’S SHAKE THIS HOUSE!” Rhonda turned to us. “ONE, TWO, ONE-TWO-THREE-FOUR!”
We let it rip. Rhonda grabbed the microphone and shredded it!
Let me say this: Rhonda was AMAZING.
Yes, I’m serious.
No, really.
Really!
We Stink sounded awesome! All that time struggling with our instruments had finally paid off. My fingers found the chords, and I didn’t even drop my pick.
Nanci was drumming instead of eating pie. Mari’s bass had all of the strings, and Patti had even remembered to plug in her keyboard.
And Rhonda’s crazy, screechy voice actually sounded perfect with our crazy, screechy instruments. We were a slamming heavy-metal band!
The crowd danced madly, punching their fists in the air. But I really knew we were good the minute I glanced over at Missy. She looked like she was about to throttle someone.
I grinned.
And the band played on.