Hard Rock Page 12

  “Hey,” Tig said to Regan as the students filed out of the classroom. “Would you want to come by my house and watch band practice sometime? Just kind of hang out with us?”

  Regan looked surprised. “Yeah,” she said. “That’d be really cool. I’d love to.”

  “We usually do every Thursday starting around four,” Tig said. “If for some reason that changes, I’ll let you know. But feel free to drop by if you want.”

  “I’ll do that,” said Regan. “Oh, and I’ll bring Haley and Sofia.”

  Tig’s eyes got big. “Uh, uh . . .,” she stuttered.

  “Kidding!” Regan said. “Bots can operate independently sometimes. Catch you later!”

  As she watched Regan walk away, Tig stood, stunned. “They know we call them Bots?” she said out loud to no one in particular.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “You did what?”

  Robbie was beside herself. Tig was glad she’d chosen to tell her the news over the phone instead of in person. At least this way, she had a safe distance.

  “You invited a Bot—wait, not only a Bot, but the head Bot, the Queen of the Bots—to our practice? Have you lost your mind?”

  “She’s been really nice,” Tig said.

  “That just means she’s up to something,” Robbie said. “Have you forgotten last year? The relentless pursuit of our band’s destruction that she engineered?”

  “She’s sorry about that.”

  “Oh, she’s sorry, huh? Well, okay, then. Let’s just forget the whole thing and invite her to the studio so she can gather intel for the next thing she does, and then I guess she can be sorry about that, too.”

  “Calm down,” Tig said.

  “You should’ve run it by us first,” said Robbie.

  “You’re right,” Tig said. “That would have been a courtesy. But I kind of did it spontaneously.”

  “You and your spontaneity,” said Robbie.

  “Look, she did us a real solid by getting Kyra off our backs.”

  “She certainly did,” said Robbie. “Kind of makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”

  “Wonder what?”

  “It wasn’t so very long ago that Kyra went to Regan to try to help her take us down. Supposedly, according to Regan, who, by the way, is a highly unreliable source, Regan said no. Why? Because Regan is so noble now. Enlightened, did you say? And then, coincidentally, Regan helps us out yet again and makes Kyra behave. And now Regan’s our buddy? Doesn’t that smell a little fishy to you? Like maybe this is all one big conspiracy? Like maybe the whole thing was planned from the beginning to get you to let your guard down?”

  “Oh, come on.”

  “No, seriously. Think about it. This whole scenario hinges on two unlikely things: Regan being nice and Kyra suddenly realizing she was wrong and giving up her grudge.”

  Tig thought about that. Robbie did have a point. “Yeah, it is weird that Kyra would suddenly get over being mad, but think about it: if Regan told Kyra to paint herself purple and stand on top of a mountain, Kyra would run right to the paint store.”

  “And after that go pick up some rope and a grappling hook,” said Robbie. “You’ve got that right. But you’ve got to remember: Regan is cunning. She may have told Kyra what to do from the beginning. Maybe she didn’t turn down Kyra’s offer to destroy the band. Maybe this whole thing has been planned out since that day, and all this is just to lull you into a false sense of security. Maybe they’re in cahoots.”

  “Cahoots,” Tig said. “That’s a funny word.”

  “Focus, Ripley.”

  “I’m focused. I just don’t think there’s any reason to worry. I mean, what can Regan do at practice? Glue my hi-hat together? Break your guitar strings? Unplug the amps?”

  “Of course not. She’d never do anything so simple. But she might try to get in our heads somehow. Throw off our confidence. Or stir up trouble between us the way Kyra tried to do.”

  “But Kyra failed,” Tig said, feeling good about the fact that her friends hadn’t turned on her despite Kyra’s tactics.

  “Kyra’s a lightweight,” Robbie said. “Regan’s a pro.”

  “I’ll be careful,” Tig said. “And besides, you’ll be there to keep an eye on her, so what can she really do? You don’t think Regan could get away with anything with you there, do you?”

  “I guess not,” Robbie said. Tig was glad Robbie couldn’t see her smiling, but she was quite pleased with herself. She knew Robbie would never admit that Regan could trick her, so this was the perfect tactic to get Robbie to relent.

  “Then stop worrying,” Tig said. “Who knows? Maybe Regan really has turned over a new leaf.”

  “If Regan turns over a leaf, there’s probably a venomous snake under it,” Robbie said. “I’m going into this with my eyes wide open, and if you’re smart, you’ll do the same.”

  “I hear you loud and clear,” Tig said.

  But when she hung up the phone, Tig shrugged off Robbie’s warning. There was nothing in Tig’s gut that told her to be on guard against Regan . . . at least not at band practice. Tig was certain there was nothing Regan could do at practice to cause trouble.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Olivia and Claire were a bit surprised about the whole Regan-coming-to-practice thing, but not overly freaked out. In spite of what Regan had done last year, Olivia still clung to her belief that everyone was really good deep down, and Claire had actually been friends with Regan last year prior to Regan’s forbidding her to sing with Pandora’s Box. Claire acknowledged that Regan did have a side to her that Claire had liked, and she was willing to forgive last year’s mistakes if Regan truly was trying to be a better person. Paris, as usual, was chill about anything and everything, and besides, she had heard about Regan and the Bots only secondhand from Robbie, so she hadn’t really been involved in last year’s drama.

  Robbie, though, showed up at practice on high alert for anything Regan might try to pull. She was certain that Regan would, indeed, pull something.

  “Maybe she’s not coming after all,” Tig said around 4:10.

  “Good,” said Robbie. But Tig thought Robbie seemed a little disappointed. She’d shown up ready to protect her territory, and now it looked as though there would be no one to protect it from.

  “She may have had something else to do,” said Claire. “Maybe we should just get on with practice.”

  The girls agreed and started “Signed, Sealed, Delivered.” Claire was really loosening up and becoming more of a performer in addition to being an incredible singer. She even threw in a “yeah, yeah, yeah” while the girls sang the backup chorus. Paris was solid on bass; Robbie and Olivia, as always, handled their parts to perfection; and Tig nailed the phrasing on the toms during the chorus.

  They were so into the song, they didn’t even notice Regan standing in the doorway until she started clapping at the end. “Woo!” Regan said. “That was awesome! How do y’all do that?”

  The girls stopped and said hello. “You want a drink or something?” Tig said, pointing to the mini-fridge her grandmother had recently bought for her at a garage sale.

  “Sure, thanks,” Regan said. She took a bottle of soda out of the fridge and sat down in the empty saucer chair in front of the band.

  “By the way, this is Paris,” Tig said. “Paris Nichols, Regan Hoffman.”

  “S’up, Regan?” Paris said.

  “Good to meet you,” Regan replied. “So, what else do y’all know how to play?”

  The band struck up “For Your Love” and then “Twist and Shout.” Tig was pleased that they had to restart both songs only once. “These are new ones for us,” she explained to Regan.

  “Don’t apologize—you sound great!”

  Regan’s praise loosened the girls up, and once they were over their self-consciousness at playing in front of her, they were able to run through the entire set list. It sounded pretty good. Not as good as they would be in a couple more weeks, but still pretty good.

&nb
sp; “Whew!” Tig said. “That’s a wrap for today. Good job, ladies.”

  The girls clapped a little bit for themselves and high-fived.

  “All of you are so good,” Regan said. “Robbie, where’d you learn to play guitar like that?”

  “Lessons,” Robbie said flatly.

  “Well, I’m sure that a lot of what you do can’t be taught just in lessons. You’re a natural rock star. The way you handle yourself while you’re playing is really cool.”

  “Thanks,” Robbie said. Tig could tell she didn’t want to be sucked in by Regan’s flattery, but how could she not enjoy it? Especially when it was all true.

  “Ooh, my mom’s pulling up,” said Olivia. She took a drink from the mini-fridge. “I’ll take this one for the road. Later!” Claire’s mom wasn’t far behind. Soon it was just Robbie and Paris and Regan and Tig.

  While Robbie and Paris played around with the guitar and bass, Tig showed Regan around her family’s property. “We call this building ‘the studio’ because it’s our practice area, but really it was a mother-in-law apartment built by the people who lived here before us.”

  “Cool,” said Regan. “Show me your room?”

  “Sure,” said Tig.

  In Tig’s room, Regan went straight for the bookshelf. “Oh man! You still have these?”

  Tig was embarrassed to see that Regan had picked up a collection of fairy books she’d read in elementary school. She’d gotten a cutesy little boxed set back in fourth grade that, for whatever reason, was still sitting on her shelf. Maybe it had been there so long, she didn’t even really see it anymore, or maybe she had loved it so much, she just couldn’t bear to part with it, even long after she’d stopped holding out hope that fairies were real. “I forgot that was even there,” Tig said. “I liked those back when I was a kid.”

  “Oh, me too!” Regan said.

  “You did?”

  “Totally!” Regan said. “I even set my dollhouse out in my backyard, hoping that fairies would find it and move in and then be my friends.”

  “Really?” Tig was surprised that Regan would not only do something so silly but freely admit to it.

  “Yeah!” Regan laughed. “I kind of forgot it was out there, and I left it for a few days, and it rained all over it. Pretty much ruined it. My mom was so mad!”

  “No fairies moved in, I guess?”

  “Unfortunately not.” Regan smiled. “Hey, thanks again for letting me come over today to watch your practice. I really enjoyed it.”

  “We don’t stink, then?”

  “Not hardly,” Regan said. “I’m sorry I gave y’all a hard time last year. You’re really good.”

  “Well, last year, we did stink. But we’re getting better. And our new bass player helps a lot. She’s great.”

  “She seems nice,” Regan said. “It’s cool that you’re all such good friends, too.”

  “It’s the best,” Tig agreed.

  “How’s everything with Olivia?” Regan asked. “Does she suspect that you like Will?”

  “I never said I liked Will,” Tig replied.

  “Okay, okay,” Regan said. “But I wouldn’t blame you if you did. He’s a little hottie.”

  Tig smiled. “He’s Olivia’s boyfriend.”

  “Right,” Regan said. “Let’s just keep repeating that: He’s Olivia’s boyfriend. He’s Olivia’s boyfriend. Oops! Guess what? Still a little hottie.”

  Tig laughed. “I’m not crushing on Will.”

  “I admire you for that,” said Regan. “Especially when it’s so obvious that he’s crushing on you.”

  “You think so?” Tig asked—a little too quickly.

  “I know so,” Regan said. “It’s painfully obvious. I can’t believe Olivia doesn’t see it.”

  Suddenly there was a knock on Tig’s open door. Paris was making sure Tig and Regan noticed that she was standing there.

  “Oh!” Tig said. “Hey, Paris.”

  “Hey,” Paris replied. “Robbie left. My mom texted she was running a little late, so I just came in here to see what y’all were doing.”

  “Nothing,” said Tig. “We’re not doing anything.” Could you possibly sound any more guilty? Tig said to herself.

  “We were just talking about fairy books,” Regan said, holding up the book collection to Paris. “Did you ever read these when you were little?”

  “No,” Paris said. “I must’ve missed those.”

  “Tig and I loved them,” Regan said. “I was telling her about how I had put my dollhouse outside, and then it rained. . . .” Regan’s phone buzzed. “My mom’s outside,” she said. “Thanks again for letting me watch practice. Catch y’all later.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” Tig said. Just before Regan got into her mom’s car, Tig asked, “Do you think Paris heard us talking about Will?”

  Regan grimaced. “I don’t know. Tig, I’m sorry. I didn’t know she was standing there. Honest.”

  “It’s okay,” Tig said. But she thought back to Robbie’s warning that Regan would come to practice only to cause trouble. Had Regan intentionally brought up Will because she knew Paris would overhear them?

  When Tig went back inside, Paris was looking at the fairy books. “These are cute,” Paris said. “The little illustrations—”

  “How long were you standing at the door?” Tig said. She hoped it didn’t sound confrontational; she just couldn’t stand not knowing.

  “Just a little while,” Paris said.

  “Did you, um . . .”

  Paris set the books down on Tig’s desk. “Yeah,” she said, “I heard y’all talking about Will.”

  Tig threw her head back, covered her face, and groaned.

  “I’m not going to tell Olivia,” Paris said. “Or Robbie. Or anyone else.”

  “I don’t want to hurt Olivia,” Tig said. “I’ve been trying to keep my distance from Will. Really, I have.”

  “I believe you,” Paris said. “I know you wouldn’t hurt Olivia.”

  “I try my best not to even think about him,” Tig said. “But then Olivia insisted he tutor me in algebra, and then there we were in the library after school, just the two of us, and his eyes were so blue, and . . . oh, Paris! I’m a terrible friend!”

  “No, you’re not,” Paris said. “There’s an old saying: ‘The heart wants what it wants.’”

  “What does it mean?”

  “It means it’s awfully hard to talk your heart out of something. Your heart makes up its own mind.”

  “I’m a middle-school girl,” Tig said. “I’m supposed to be notoriously fickle. I’ll be over this in a week or two, right?”

  “You might if you weren’t trying so hard,” Paris said, smiling.

  “But I have to try!” Tig said. “You want to hear something crazy?”

  “Shoot.”

  “Last year Will liked me, and I kind of liked him, too. But I knew Olivia was crazy about him, so I pushed him her way. I’m pretty much the one who set them up.”

  “You want to hear another old saying?” Paris asked.

  “Shoot,” Tig said again.

  “‘No good deed goes unpunished.’”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  The next day both Regan and Tig were early to algebra class. “How much did she hear?” Regan asked.

  “I think pretty much all of it.”

  “Oh no. Tig, I’m so sorry.”

  Tig wondered if Regan really was sorry—or if Robbie had been right and Regan had shown up at practice for the specific purpose of causing trouble. Tig chose not to think about what Robbie had said. It was more comfortable to think that Regan wasn’t out to get her. Why go borrowing drama when life seemed to offer plenty of it every time she turned around? “It’s no big,” Tig said. “Paris is cool. She’s not going to go run her mouth about it.”

  “Whew,” Regan said. “She is cool.”

  “It’s funny,” Tig said. “I didn’t even like Paris at first.”

  “Why not?”

  “I gu
ess I was jealous. She’s so pretty and she looks sixteen.”

  “Yeah, she does. But I guess if she’s nice, you can overlook it.”

  “I think . . . Well, I don’t think. I know what the real issue was. I was jealous because she and Robbie are so tight. I was being totally immature.”

  “But it’s all in the past now,” Regan said. “Now you’re friends. I think it’s awesome.”

  “What? Being friends with Paris?”

  “The fact that you disliked her so much at first . . . and now you’re friends.”

  “I guess that is pretty neat,” said Tig.

  “Kind of like with you and me,” said Regan. “You hated me last year.”

  “What makes you think I like you now?” Tig said, but she smiled.

  “Shut up!” said Regan. “You let me come to your house. We discussed fairy books! I told you my embarrassing fairy house story! That totally makes us friends now!”

  “We’ll see,” Tig said, still smiling. “I don’t want to rush to judgment on this.”

  “Maybe if you admit we’re friends, Robbie won’t hate me anymore either.”

  “Robbie doesn’t hate you,” Tig said. Regan gave her a look. Tig said, “Okay, she totally does. I’m sorry, but that’s the truth.”

  Regan laughed. “I’ll have to keep working on her, I guess. I can’t blame her for not liking me after the way I acted last year. Anyway, I totally love your band!”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah! Pandora’s Box rocks!”

  “Thanks,” said Tig. “We didn’t always.”

  “Oh, trust me, I know,” said Regan. “I saw the video last year. Over and over, actually.”

  Tig pushed Regan’s shoulder. “Saw? You engineered the video last year.”

  “True,” Regan said. “How did y’all go from that to this, anyway? That’s a big jump from the video of you crashing and burning to what I saw yesterday. Did it just take you a year to get good?”

  “Not exactly. A lot of it is practice and dedication,” Tig said. “I think anyone who really has a passion for music and is willing to give it a real go and put in the work can learn pretty fast.”

  “Really?” Regan said. “You think I could learn how to play an instrument?”