Hard Rock Page 11

  “So there’s nothing we can do, then?” Robbie said. “It’s over? There’s no gig?”

  “There is one thing we can do,” said Tig. “But you’re not going to like it. I don’t.”

  “What?” asked Paris.

  “Yeah, what?” said Robbie. “I’ve already mentally bought that denim jacket with the sixty bucks added to my stash. This gig needs to happen.”

  “BD says that if we leave Kyra in the band just until after this one gig, the old man won’t pull the rug out from under us.”

  “You’re right,” said Robbie. “I don’t like it.”

  “Me neither,” said Claire. “Kicking Kyra out once was hard enough. I’d hate to have to do it twice.”

  “Exactly,” said Tig. It was nice that Claire understood her feelings without her having to state them.

  “Besides,” said Olivia, “I hate to point out the obvious, but does anyone actually think that Kyra could learn all those new songs before the performance? I mean, she could barely play the ones we’ve been working on for months.”

  That hadn’t occurred to Tig at all. “You’re right,” Tig said. “Olivia, I hadn’t even thought about that. I was so focused on how weird it would be to invite her back in that I’d completely forgotten the most obvious problem. Kyra would never be able to get these songs together in time for the gig, and then we’d have no set list—not even an hour’s worth.”

  “And we were scraping for that as it was,” said Robbie.

  “Yeah,” said Claire.

  “Paris, you haven’t said much,” said Tig. “How’s all this sitting with you?”

  “Y’all know me,” said Paris. “I’m easygoing. If you need to get Kyra back for this gig, I ain’t gonna be mad at you. But I’m with Olivia. I doubt she could do it.”

  “Here’s a thought,” said Robbie. “What if we had Kyra play one or two of our old songs with us at the reunion, and then we sub in Paris after that? Then Kyra doesn’t have to learn any new material, and the old guy still gets his third-cousin-twice-removed-great-grand-niece glory?”

  “That’s a great idea,” said Claire.

  “I agree,” said Olivia.

  “I knew you’d think of something,” said Tig. “Paris, how does that sound to you?”

  “Works for me,” Paris said.

  “Okay,” Tig said. “Now all we have to do is get Kyra to agree to this.”

  “Good thing we already made up with her,” said Robbie. “Can you imagine how awkward that would have been?”

  Tig felt a wave of nausea just thinking about it. If she hadn’t already made up with Kyra and had to go begging to her about this gig, Kyra probably would’ve milked it for all it was worth. She knew how pouty and manipulative Kyra could be as well as she knew her own name. But the funny thing was, knowing this about Kyra had never stopped Tig from being close with her their entire lives—after all, Kyra had her good points, too, didn’t she? With the betrayal still fresh in Tig’s mind, it was getting harder to remember what those good points were. Tig decided that maybe everyone had a dark side if you got to know them well enough. But somehow that didn’t make her feel any better about Kyra. Tig tried to remind herself about the divorce and how hard that was for Kyra, but was that supposed to be a get-out-of-jail-free card for every rotten thing Kyra did from here on out?

  “Awkward. You can say that again,” Tig said. “All right, if we’re all agreed, I’ll talk to Kyra about it tomorrow at school.”

  “Why don’t you just call her tonight and get it over with?” asked Claire.

  “It’s getting late,” said Tig. “I’ve still got some homework to finish.”

  But the truth was, Tig was in no hurry to talk to Kyra . . . or to spend any more time with her than she had to.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “We need to talk,” Tig said to Kyra the next morning in the gym.

  “You’re so right,” said Kyra. “I’ve got to tell you everything Milo said in chat last night!”

  Like I care, Tig wanted to say. It annoyed her that Kyra thought that everything with the two of them would go on without missing a beat. Like Tig would gloss right over her betrayal and they’d be just as close as they were before it. Well, no, Tig thought. It’s not that easy.

  Kyra prattled on about Milo for a good five minutes, never seeming to notice that Tig wasn’t really paying attention. When Kyra came up for air, Tig jumped in. “Your mom got your uncle or whatever he is—Norman—all stirred up about the reunion gig.”

  “Did she?” There was no I’m sorry to hear that in Kyra’s tone. More of a good for Mom tone. Certainly there was no hint of surprise. Kyra’s mother had always been one to stir things up whenever possible.

  “Yes, she did,” Tig said flatly. “Apparently, if you don’t play, we lose the gig.”

  “Oh, how about that?”

  Tig was furious. Not only was Kyra enjoying this, it appeared that she already knew all about it. Perhaps, Tig realized, she’d even put her mom up to it.

  “Yes, how about that?” Tig said.

  “So I guess you want me back in the band, then?”

  “Temporarily,” said Tig.

  “Hmmm,” said Kyra. “I’ll have to think about it.”

  “Is that so?” said Tig. “Well, think about this, too, while you’re at it: the Scholars’ Bowl team could probably use a new member.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means, Kyra, that you’re lucky you have any friends at all after that stunt you pulled at the studio. We forgave you for that.”

  “And I forgave y’all for kicking me out of the band in the first place. By my accounting, we’re even.”

  “Your accounting is way off, then,” said Tig. “We kicked you out of the band because you left us no choice. You refused to practice. We tried to be nice about it. You, on the other hand, betrayed my trust and tried to turn my friends against me for no reason other than spite. It was hateful and mean and premeditated. But we gave you another chance. And this is how you thank us?”

  “Well, when you put it that way, it sounds like it was all my fault!”

  “It was all your fault!” Tig said. She could feel herself shaking with rage. “You know, Kyra, I’m sorry about Uncle Nick and your mom. I really am. But you don’t get a free pass to act any way you want to just because of the divorce! I’ve tried to be understanding and patient because we’re family, but family is about more than blood. Family is the way you treat one another. And if this is the best you can do, well . . . nothing says we have to be tight just because we’re cousins. So just forget about the gig. And while you’re at it, just forget about me, too.”

  “Tig!” Kyra called as Tig stormed out of the gym.

  “Tig Ripley!” called the coach who supervised the gym. “The bell hasn’t rung yet!”

  She’d probably get detention for it, but Tig kept walking.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Tig seethed the rest of the morning. By algebra class, she was still ready to blow.

  “Did you get written up for leaving the gym this morning?” Regan asked.

  “No,” said Tig. “Coach found me and gave me a warning, though.”

  “You’re lucky,” said Regan. “Hey, what’s with you getting all rebel all of a sudden?”

  “It was either leave the gym without permission or commit homicide,” Tig said.

  “Fight with your cousin?”

  “You could say that, yes.”

  “Can’t say I blame you,” Regan said. “I’ve never liked her.”

  “Trust me, I know,” said Tig. “She’s been trying to get you to like her since elementary school.” Tig let out a short laugh, then got serious. “Why is it that you’ve never liked her? I mean, she has tried so hard. She’s done everything short of worship you.”

  “That’s just it,” Regan said. “She’s a suck-up. She doesn’t like me. She just likes my status. She thinks that if she’s friends with me, she’ll be popular.”
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  “Isn’t that how it works?” asked Tig.

  Regan smiled. “Yeah, I guess so. Popularity by association. But who wants friends like that?”

  “You have worse friends than Kyra,” Tig said. “Haley’s about as annoying as they come.”

  “No argument there,” said Regan. “Haley can be a brat sometimes, but Haley’s got something Kyra doesn’t. Loyalty. The way Kyra came to me and offered to turn on you so she could get in with our group? Haley would never do something like that. Neither would Sofia.”

  Tig thought about this for a moment and decided Regan probably had a point. “She’s my cousin, you know? That makes it so much worse.”

  “I’m sure,” said Regan. “So what’d she do this time?”

  As Tig told Regan the whole story about the gig and the way Kyra had acted that morning, it occurred to Tig that she was confiding in Regan Hoffman, of all people. Regan Hoffman, her biggest enemy from seventh grade. What was she thinking? Regan could not—should not—be trusted. Ever. But talking to her now didn’t feel that way to Tig at all.

  Will came in just before the bell rang. “Somebody I know’s got some business to handle,” he said. He grinned, making Tig’s heart ache.

  “What do you know about it?” Tig asked. It wasn’t a smart comment but an actual question.

  “Kyra’s already told Olivia about it and Olivia’s already told me,” Will said. “According to Kyra, you bit her head off for no reason.”

  Typical, Tig thought.

  Will continued. “Now Olivia’s worried the show is off, and she’s dying to play it. You’d think sixty bucks was a million dollars. It would be a shame to cancel, though. I like your set list—I looked up all the songs. The drum solo at the bridge of ‘For Your Love’ is pretty sweet. You’re going to nail it!” Then Will started singing the chorus, where the guy lists all the poetic and beautiful things he would give in exchange for the girl’s love. As he sang, his eyes locked onto Tig’s. She felt that electric shock that was by now so familiar, and forced herself to look away.

  “It’s not my fault if the show is off,” Tig said abruptly.

  Will stopped singing and shook his head. “Girls!”

  “You know what you ought to do?” said Regan. “Just get her to play the one gig and then worry about whether you want to maintain the friendship. It sounds like this performance is pretty important to you and the other girls. Don’t let Kyra ruin it for you.”

  “You’re forgetting one major roadblock,” said Tig. “Kyra’s holding the cards. She’s not going to agree to play even one song unless I kiss her rear end.”

  “Sure she will,” said Regan.

  “What makes you say so?”

  “Because I’ll tell her to,” said Regan. “She’ll do anything I say.”

  Tig’s mouth fell open. “You’d do that?”

  “Of course,” Regan said. “What are friends for?”

  Friends? Regan Hoffman and Tig Ripley were now friends?

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Magic.

  That was what it was. Magic.

  By English class two periods later, the whole drama about whether Kyra would play the reunion was, as Paris would’ve said, yesterday’s cornbread.

  And Tig hadn’t even had to sweet-talk her.

  One word from Regan, and Kyra had not only agreed to play the gig, she’d also apologized to Tig for the way she’d acted that morning. And she’d said she didn’t want to play more than one song at the show and that she knew that would be the end of her association with Pandora’s Box and she was fine with it. She further promised that there would be no more outbursts, manipulations, or wheedling of any kind to try to get back in. In fact, after Kyra’s admission that the whole thing had been all her fault from the get-go—from not practicing and forcing Tig to kick her out of the band to the way she’d acted earlier that day in the gym—Kyra seemed to have no more interest whatsoever in discussing the band or anything to do with the band. And all this had happened before Mrs. Thompson even went over the bell-ringer activity. It was as though none of it had even happened.

  Their English class was reading Julius Caesar, a Shakespeare play about ancient Romans who kill this guy Caesar because they think he’s going to try to become king. One of the guys who stabs Caesar is his best friend, Brutus, so Mrs. Thompson made a whole big deal about the fact that Caesar feels totally betrayed by his friend. Tig sort of thought the whole getting-stabbed-to-death thing might be a bigger deal than betrayal, but she figured English teachers had to find something in stories besides the obvious if they wanted to keep their jobs.

  For class that day, everyone had to get up and recite something they’d memorized from the play. They had a choice between a speech from Brutus, a speech from this other friend of Caesar who hadn’t stabbed him, or a speech from Caesar about not fearing death. Tig had chosen the last one because it was the shortest.

  “‘Cowards die many times before their deaths,’” Tig said when it was her turn. She didn’t really mind having to speak in front of the class; no one was paying much attention anyway. And she sort of liked the message of her recitation: the guy was basically saying that there’s no reason to fear death because it will happen at some point anyway, and if you sit around being scared of it, it’s sort of like you’re dying a little death all the time. Might as well quit thinking about it, live your life without worrying, and die just that once instead of a bunch of mini-deaths in your imagination.

  “Good job, Antigone,” said Mrs. Thompson. She called up the next person.

  As Tig walked back to her seat, Kyra high-fived her. Tig couldn’t believe Kyra was over it all, and so quickly. Regan was very good at what she did, whatever it was.

  Later at lunch, Tig looked over to the Bots’ table and found Regan’s eyes. Tig shrugged and held up her palms in a “how did this happen?” manner, and Regan just smiled and gave a thumbs-up.

  Thanking Regan had to wait until the next day because the only class she and Tig had together was math. Tig was waiting when Regan came into the room. “I totally flubbed that Julius Caesar speech in Mrs. Thompson’s class yesterday,” Regan said. She had Mrs. Thompson’s English class a different period than Tig did. “I did the Brutus one. Which one did you do?”

  “I did Caesar’s,” Tig said. “It was the shortest.”

  “Oh yeah, that cowards die bunches of times thing,” Regan said. “I should’ve done that.”

  Tig couldn’t wait through any more small talk. “How’d you do it?”

  “After the whole ‘as he was ambitious, I slew him’ part, I went completely blank!”

  “No, not the recitation,” Tig said. “How’d you do it?”

  “Do what?” Regan replied. “Oh, you mean that thing with Kyra? Piece of cake.”

  “What’d you say to her?”

  “Nothing special. I just told her that I’d heard she was being a pain to you and to cut it out.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Pretty much.”

  Tig just stared at Regan for a moment.

  “What?” Regan said.

  “I don’t get it,” Tig said. “What makes you so powerful?”

  Regan laughed. “I don’t know. But it comes in handy sometimes.”

  “I’ll say.” Tig paused before continuing. “Thank you.”

  Regan smiled. “You’re welcome.”

  “Is that all there is to it?”

  “What do you mean? Was I supposed to say something other than ‘you’re welcome’?”

  “No, I mean, is that all there is to this? I just say thank you and we’re square? Don’t I owe you something?”

  Regan laughed again. “No charge. And tipping is not required.”

  “You know what I mean,” said Tig. “Don’t I have to do something for you now because you did something for me? I’ve got to be on the hook somehow.”

  “There’s no hook,” Regan said. “Sheesh. If anything, I probably owed you this one little favor for bein
g such a jerk last year.”

  “I just don’t get why you’re being nice to me all of a sudden.”

  “Can’t a person grow? Maybe I’ve become enlightened.”

  Tig grinned. “Maybe. If that’s the case, I like Enlightened Regan way better than Jerk Regan.”

  “Join the club.”

  Will came in and sat down in his usual seat. “Olivia said it’s all worked out with Kyra.”

  “Yeah,” Tig said. “We may actually have a functioning band at the moment.”

  “So this Paris chick is playing bass now?” Will asked.

  “Yep. She’s good, too.”

  “I thought she was going to be rhythm guitar?” he said.

  “That was the original plan, until we were down a bass player. Paris stepped up. We can manage without rhythm guitar for now.”

  “Who’re you going to get for that?” said Will.

  “Ugh!” Tig said. “Who knows? One problem at a time. I just got Kyra off my back. Let me revel in it for just a little while.”

  Will laughed. “Fair enough. You’re pretty lucky that Robbie found Paris when she did.”

  Tig nodded. As the teacher began the day’s lesson, Tig’s mind stayed on what Will had just said. He was right: she was very lucky that Paris had come along. She was great on the bass and had been supercool about all the drama so far, even though she didn’t have to be. It was now obvious to Tig why Robbie liked her so much. Maybe, in time, she and Paris would become close friends too.

  And while Tig’s mind was on the subject of friends, what about this new friendship with Regan?

  There had to be a catch. Could there really be such a thing as Enlightened Regan?

  Even though Regan had said Tig didn’t owe her anything, Tig felt somehow obligated. Not so much in the sense of needing to pay off a debt, but more in the sense that one kindness deserved another.