"WE THREW OUT OUR BASS PLAYER," he told me the next day. "He cared more about his hair than the music. I should've known. He was such a poser with those black leather pants. Butt never liked him." Butt was the drummer. "Jerod did. That should've been a sign too. What does a singer know about bass?"
So there it was: my big chance. I didn't believe in fate. I didn't think that the planets lined up and shaped our lives. Or secret forces were working. I'm not sure I even believed in genes and DNA. People just are. Things just happen.
"So you're looking for somebody? I mean for the band?" I asked.
"Yeah, I guess. But it's such a pain trying out new guys. They come in trying to impress you with their awesome chops." He kind of sneered, saying that. "I mean, you got to be able to play. But just wiggling your fingers fast is nothing. It's worse than nothing. Pure crot."
"It's got to be a guy?"
"What do you mean?"
"Maybe I should try out for the band." There, I said it. Let him laugh, or snicker. But I said it.
"What are you talking about?"
"I play bass. I've been in some bands." This second bit was sort of a lie.
"You never told me that." We were hanging around by his locker. He closed it, real quiet. He looked at me in a different way than before. And I liked it.
"I never told you a lot of things."
"You're serious? You can really play?"
I was serious. And yeah, I could play.
But he didn't give me the OK yet. "I'll have to talk to Butt and Jerod. There was this other guy we were going to check out."
"Sure. I understand."