Hard Rock

by Ginger Rue

  “Just think: my first goat competition,” said Robbie. “I feel so rural.” Robbie had also bowed out of Tig’s invitation earlier because she’d already made plans to sleep over at Paris’s and attend the 4-H event the next day.

  “Promise me you’ll take pictures,” Tig said to Paris.

  “Of Betsy, Lola, and Baby?”

  “Sure, them, too, if you want,” said Tig. “But I meant of Robbie. I just can’t picture her at a goat show.”

  “I am multifaceted beyond your wildest dreams, Ripley,” Robbie said.

  “I don’t doubt it.”

  Paris’s mom arrived and collected the two girls plus Olivia. They were dropping her off at her house on their way because she had a tennis match the next morning.

  “Bye,” Tig and Claire called as their three friends drove away.

  “Guess it’s just you and me,” Tig said.

  “I know,” Claire replied. “It’s a bit odd, isn’t it? Do you think we’ll be able to make conversation?”

  Tig laughed. “I think we can handle it.”

  It turned out that the two of them had plenty to talk about. So much so that they stayed up until after midnight just chatting and laughing. The funny part was, when they finally woke up around ten the next morning, neither of them could remember a thing they’d talked about. It had all just been so random and fun and easy. When Claire’s mother picked her up just before lunch, Tig felt a little lost on her own. She couldn’t remember when she’d had such a fun night.

  For the first time since she could remember, Tig had absolutely no worries. Everything was finally falling into place. It felt awesome.

  The feeling lasted for about another hour before her phone rang.

  She looked at the screen.

  It was Will.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  “Hello?” Tig said.

  “Hey,” Will said.

  “Hey.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing. Claire just left a little while ago. She spent the night last night.”

  “Oh. Did y’all have fun?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How was the gig?”

  “Good.”

  A long pause.

  “I need to talk to you,” Will said. Something in his voice sounded ominous.

  “Okay,” Tig said. “Go ahead.”

  “I need to talk to you in person.”

  “Like, at school Monday?”

  “No. I need to talk to you . . . alone.”

  Tig’s stomach dropped. “Is something wrong?”

  “No,” Will said. “I mean, yes. I mean . . . I don’t know. Sort of.”

  “Can’t you just tell me over the phone?”

  “I don’t think so,” Will said. “My older brother has a car. I could get him to drive me over to your house if that’s okay.”

  A dozen different thoughts went through Tig’s head. What would Olivia think about Will coming to her house to talk to her? Would Tig’s parents allow a boy to come over to see her? What did he want to talk about that couldn’t be said over the phone?

  “I don’t know. I’d have to ask my folks if it’s all right with them.”

  “I understand. Can you ask them and call me back?”

  “Okay,” Tig said. She hung up with Will and went to find her mom.

  Her dad was in the laundry room, replacing a fuse in the dryer. “Dad,” Tig said, “have you seen Mom?”

  “Yes,” he replied. “She’s about five-foot-five, brown hair . . .”

  Tig didn’t laugh. “Dad, do you know where she is?”

  “She’s at the grocery store. Probably be back in about another hour. What’s the matter?”

  Tig sighed. It would’ve been awkward enough to talk to her mom about this, but her dad? Of all the luck!

  “Is it okay if my friend Will comes over for a little while?”

  “Your friend Will?” her dad asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Will sounds like a boy’s name. Is your friend Will a boy?”

  “Dad, you know Will. He played guitar for the band last year at Kyra’s birthday party. He came over here for practice a bunch of times.”

  “Ah yes,” her dad said. “That Will. But you’re telling me he wants to come over here by himself, without your bandmates around?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Hmmm,” said her dad. “What will the three of us be talking about?”

  “Dad,” Tig said, losing her patience.

  “Okay, okay,” Mr. Ripley said. “I guess he can come over for a little while. But I’m not sure I like this.”

  I’m not sure I do either, Tig thought.

  “And just so this fellow knows . . .” Tig’s dad made a V with his index and middle fingers and pointed at his eyes, then at Tig, to mean, I’ll be watching.

  Tig called Will back. “You can come over,” she said. She thought of her dad’s V signal. “But I think maybe we should just sit outside on the studio steps.”

  “Good enough,” said Will. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Tig realized her hair was a mess, so she ran a flat iron along the front and changed out of her sweats and XL T-shirt from youth group and into a decent tee and jeans. It occurred to her, as she was getting dressed, that she was fixing up to meet her friend’s boyfriend. The thought unsettled her, so she pushed it out of her mind and chalked up her interest in her appearance to mere common courtesy.

  When she heard Will’s brother’s car pull into the gravel driveway, she took one last quick look in the mirror, smoothed her hair with her hand, and went outside.

  “Hey,” she said as Will’s brother drove away.

  “Hey,” Will said. “You look pretty.”

  Tig made a face. “Oh, I just rolled out of bed a little while ago.”

  “You want to sit?” Will asked, gesturing to the studio steps.

  “Sure.”

  They walked to the steps together and sat down. Tig thought she saw the blinds in the living room move. She wondered if her dad really was spying on them or if it was just a curious, giggly younger sib.

  “So, what’s up?” Tig asked. “What’s this all about?”

  “I think I’m going to have to break up with Olivia,” Will said.

  “Will! You can’t!” Tig said. “She’ll be heartbroken!”

  “I’ve thought of that,” Will said. “I feel like a real jerk about it. I like Olivia. Really, I do. She’s a sweet girl, and she’s been really nice to me. But I don’t like her like her. I’ve tried, Tig. I just don’t. I can’t.”

  “Why can’t you?”

  “You know why,” Will said. “Do you want me to say it?”

  “No,” Tig said. “Don’t say it. Because if you say it, then I’ll know. And if I know, and I don’t tell Olivia, then I’m hiding something from her. And that’s not what friends do.”

  “What do friends do, Tig?” Will asked. “Do they push aside their own feelings so their friends don’t get hurt?”

  “I don’t know,” Tig said. “Maybe.”

  “You ought to know.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that this whole thing is your fault in the first place.”

  “My fault?!” Tig said.

  “Yes, your fault,” said Will. “I was trying to tell you last year . . . the thing you don’t want me to tell you . . . and you stopped me and told me I should like Olivia. So I tried. And now I’m in this mess.”

  Tig didn’t know which of her feelings to listen to first. It made her angry that Will was blaming her for his problems; then it made her feel bad because she knew he had a point. Plus, on the one hand, she felt both excited and relieved that Will still liked her, but on the other, she felt disloyal to Olivia. “Olivia is a great girl,” Tig said. “A lot of guys would like to be in your ‘mess,’ as you call it.”

  “You know what I mean,” Will said. “Olivia is great. She’s pe
rfect for some other guy. Any other guy who’s not already crazy about you!” He blurted it out so fast that his mouth fell open afterward, as though he might try to push the words back inside.

  Tig silently sat there, stunned. Not only had Will said the words she’d told him not to say, he’d even used the phrase crazy about. She couldn’t help but think of all the times Olivia had used that exact phrase herself when talking about Will, wishing he were crazy about her. Tig thought of how betrayed Olivia would feel if she had heard Will say those words to her.

  “I wasn’t supposed to say it out loud,” Will said. “I’m sorry.”

  Tig buried her face in her hands. “This is terrible.”

  “Which part?”

  “All of it!”

  “Even the part about how much I like you? How I can’t stop thinking about you, no matter how hard I try?”

  Tig looked up at Will. Their eyes locked. She couldn’t speak.

  “Tell me you don’t feel that way about me, and I’ll never bring it up again,” Will said.

  Tig put her head back in her hands. “I can’t.”

  “I knew it,” Will said. “I knew it.”

  Tig looked back up at him. “But what good does any of it do? I can’t be your girlfriend. It would kill Olivia. And now we have this big thing out there between us, and we have to keep it a secret, which means we’re lying.”

  “Keeping something to yourself isn’t necessarily lying,” Will said. “You don’t say every single thought you have out loud, do you?”

  “No, that’s Robbie.”

  Will smiled. “The point is, some things are private. They’re no one else’s business.”

  “Let’s say you’re right,” Tig said. “What good does it do us if we like each other and we can’t let anyone know?”

  “I don’t know,” Will said. “I guess I could feel happy inside just knowing you felt the same way.”

  Will tried to take Tig’s hand, but she pulled it away. “I can’t,” Tig said. “I can’t be the reason you break up with Olivia.”

  “I’m breaking up with Olivia regardless,” said Will. “It’s not fair to her to drag this out any longer.”

  Tig nodded. “I guess you’re right. You’ll be nice about it, though? Let her down easy?”

  “You’re saying I should ditch my original plan of screaming at her and calling her names?”

  Tig smiled. Of course Will would be nice about it. He was nice about everything.

  “Just, whatever you do, don’t tell her you like someone else,” Tig said. “She couldn’t handle it.”

  “Of course I wouldn’t do that,” said Will. “I like Olivia as a person. I wouldn’t hurt her on purpose. Maybe after some time has passed, we can all be friends again, and maybe she won’t even mind if you and I like each other.”

  “Sure,” Tig said. “And as long as you’re having this wonderful dream, can I also be the best drummer in the history of rock? And Led Zeppelin re-forms and asks me to take John Bonham’s place?”

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Olivia called Tig the next afternoon, crying.

  “What’s wrong?” Tig asked, as if she didn’t already know.

  “Will,” Olivia said. She blurted out other words, but Tig couldn’t understand any of them. Olivia was too beside herself.

  “Calm down,” Tig said. “I’m sure it can’t be that bad.”

  “Will broke up with me,” Olivia said, this time more clearly.

  “Oh,” Tig said. “I’m sorry, Olivia.” If only you knew just how sorry, Tig thought.

  “Did he say why?” It was Claire’s voice. Tig hadn’t realized it was a conference call.

  Olivia cried a little more, then gathered herself enough to say, “He said it wasn’t me; it was him. What is that supposed to mean?” Olivia cried still more. “Of course it’s me! He doesn’t like me. Why doesn’t he like me? What’s wrong with me?”

  “Nothing is wrong with you, Olivia,” Claire said. “Boys can just be such losers sometimes!”

  Tig started to defend Will, to insist that not having feelings for someone didn’t make him a loser, but she feared that she might give herself away. The part she was expected to play here was the sympathizing shoulder to cry on, who insists that the ex wasn’t good enough for her brokenhearted friend in the first place. But Tig couldn’t in good conscience say anything bad about Will, so she just kept saying she was sorry.

  No one lectured Olivia about finding her identity outside of a relationship, so Tig surmised that Robbie hadn’t been included in the call. As Olivia told her sad story and obsessed over what she’d done wrong, Tig and Claire just listened and assured her she was a wonderful person and that Will was really missing out.

  “Do you need us to come over?” Claire asked.

  “No,” Olivia said, sniffling. “I’ll be all right.”

  “Of course you will,” said Claire. “And if you need to talk any more, Tig and I are here for you.”

  Tig hoped Olivia wouldn’t feel the need to take Claire up on that offer. She wasn’t sure she could handle any more; she already felt guilty enough.

  Monday at school was beyond awkward. Olivia walked around like someone who’d lost all hope and whose only wish left in life was to be run over by a bus. When Will came into the gym that morning, he furtively glanced at the spot where they all usually sat, then went to sit with a group of boys from the school band. “He barely even looked at me!” Olivia said, starting to well up again. “And he isn’t sitting with us anymore!”

  “Olivia, get ahold of yourself,” Robbie said. “What was he supposed to do, stare at you? Then come and sit down like nothing ever happened? He’s probably scared to death that we’re going to yell at him.”

  “Maybe we should give him a piece of our minds,” Claire said. “Look at the way he’s hurt poor Liv!”

  “Look, I don’t mean to sound unsympathetic,” said Robbie. “But what’s the guy supposed to have done, proposed marriage? We are, after all, in middle school. Breakups happen every day. Olivia, you’ve got to snap out of it!”

  Olivia started to cry.

  “Now look what you’ve done,” said Claire, patting Olivia as she cried.

  “Didn’t I warn her not to become a boyfriend girl?” Robbie said to Tig. “This is what happens to boyfriend girls!”

  “Olivia,” said Tig, “Robbie didn’t mean to upset you. She just wants you to feel better. Isn’t that right, Robbie?”

  Robbie softened. “Of course. I just hate to see you make a muffin out of a molehole, as Paris would say.”

  Paris!

  Tig hadn’t even thought about Paris!

  Paris knew everything!

  What if, when Paris found out about the breakup, she told Olivia what she’d overheard Tig and Regan saying about Will? Tig felt sick.

  She’d have to call Paris that afternoon and assure her she’d had nothing to do with the breakup. So far, Paris hadn’t said a word to anyone about Tig and Will liking each other. Maybe she would continue to keep the info to herself. If Olivia was this upset now, Tig could only imagine how much more upset she’d be if she knew Will’s true feelings.

  Kyra came into the gym, practically bouncing. She had a big smile on her face. “Hey! Guess what,” she said. Then she saw Olivia, and her smile immediately faded. “What happened?”

  “Will broke up with her,” Tig said. Upon hearing it said out loud, Olivia began crying harder.

  “Oh, Olivia,” Kyra said. “I’m so sorry! Are you all right?”

  “Does she look all right?” Robbie said. “Seriously, Liv, you’ve got to buck up. I’d die before I’d let some boy know he’d made me cry. Don’t let him see you like this!”

  But Olivia was on a jag and couldn’t be stopped.

  “That’s terrible,” Kyra said. “I can only imagine how you must feel. Breakups can be very traumatic.” Tig couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Kyra’d had her first boyfriend for only a few weeks, and suddenly she was a relationsh
ip expert. Kyra turned her attention back to Tig. “Now I feel kind of bad for being so happy this morning.”

  “You’ve got some happy to share?” Tig said. “By all means, share it. We could use some around here.”

  Kyra switched gears back into excited mode. “What would you girls say if I told you I’d gotten Pandora’s Box an audition?”

  “Well,” said Robbie, “first I’d say, ‘An audition for what?’ and next I’d say, ‘What’s in it for you?’ Are you trying to play bass for us again?”

  “You’re so cynical,” said Kyra. “I already told you: I’m over wanting to play in the band.”

  “Just so long as we understand each other,” Robbie said. “So what is in it for you?”

  “Nothing,” said Kyra. “I was just trying to be a good friend. Excuse me for being nice!”

  “What’s the audition for, Kyra?” Tig asked.

  Kyra got a big smile again. “You’re not going to believe it! West Alabama . . . Academy . . . prom!”

  All the girls gasped. Even Olivia stopped crying and looked excited. Even Robbie seemed impressed.

  “Wait a minute,” Robbie said. “You’re telling me that you got us an audition to play West Al’s prom? No way. That’s one of the sweetest gigs in town.”

  “I know,” said Kyra. “But I’m awesome.”

  “How?” Tig asked. “How’d you get us an audition?”

  “My next-door neighbor Mrs. Marquez is a teacher there,” Kyra said. “She’s also the senior-class sponsor. It was my mom’s weekend to be at the house with me, so . . .”

  “Wait . . . what?” Robbie asked.

  “It’s a custody arrangement thing until their divorce case goes to court,” Tig explained. “Her parents take turns living in the house with her until the settlement is final.”

  “Sheesh,” Robbie said. “That’s rough.”

  Kyra continued. “So Mom was trimming the sasanquas this weekend, and Mrs. Marquez happened to be in her yard and—”

  “What’s a sasanqua?” Robbie asked.

  Kyra scoffed. “It’s a camellia. Don’t you know anything?”

  “Can we focus, please?” Tig said.