by Ginger Rue
“I can’t believe you got an audition slot!” he said.
“I think we’re getting attention based on the fact that we’re a bunch of little girls,” Tig said. “It’s not like we’re as good as the other bands.”
“Good enough and getting better,” Lee said.
“We were thinking maybe ‘Good Riddance’ for a slow song and ‘Blitzkrieg Bop’ for a high-energy, jumping-around crowd-pleaser,” Tig said.
“You know ‘Good Riddance’ doesn’t have drums in the original version, I suppose?”
“I know,” said Tig. “I worked out some fills and beats of my own for it. I want to keep it delicate, mostly some light cymbal work.”
“Impressive,” Lee said. “You’ll be writing original material pretty soon. Let’s hear what you’ve got.”
Tig played her rendition for him. “Interesting,” he said.
“Is it awful?”
“No, not at all,” Lee replied. “It’s just different to hear that song with drums. That’s what makes art so stimulating, though; reimagining it in a variety of ways. I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks,” Tig said. “Can you walk me through ‘Blitzkrieg Bop’?”
“Excellent choice,” said Lee. “The big ol’ guys who’re embarrassed to dance will get out on the floor to jump around for that one.”
“That’s the plan,” Tig said.
Tig loved the energy of that song, and it wasn’t as hard as she thought it would be. Most of the work was on the bass and snare until the very end, when she played the low tom.
“Remember when you first started out and I forced you to use that metronome all the time?” Lee asked.
“Yes,” Tig said.
“It paid off. Your rhythm is flawless.”
Chapter Fifty
“I hope you ladies brought your A game, because Lee said my rhythm is flawless!” Tig announced at practice the next day.
“I thought your head seemed a little bigger than the last time I saw you,” Paris joked.
The girls had decided to audition with “Blitzkrieg Bop” and “Good Riddance” to show their range, but the set list they’d present to the prom committee would include three Motown songs and some newer pop songs, plus all the previous songs they’d learned—even including the One Nothing piece Tig had sworn she’d never play again after the fiasco at Kyra’s birthday party. If they wanted to fill three full hours, they couldn’t be picky.
“I have an idea for a song,” Olivia said. She began playing a slow, melancholy tune on the keyboard.
“I’ve heard that before,” Robbie said. “But I can’t put my finger on it. What is it?”
“Hey, I know,” said Claire. “That’s ‘Now It’s Dead,’ isn’t it?”
“Wait,” Tig said. “That pop song?”
“Ewwww!” Robbie said. “Not just a pop song, but a poor-pitiful-me breakup song! Olivia, what are you thinking?”
“I think it’s beautiful,” Olivia replied.
“It’s really not,” Robbie said.
“Oh, Liv,” Claire said. “It’s because you’re so hurt, isn’t it?”
“This song says everything I feel right now,” Olivia said, her eyes welling up. Claire hugged her.
“I’m sorry, Olivia,” Tig said. “But come on, you know we can’t play that song.”
“Why not?” Olivia asked.
“Because it’s just a really, really bad song,” Robbie said. “I mean, seriously? The chorus compares their failed relationship to a dead armadillo on the side of the road.”
“But that’s what it feels like!” Olivia said. “You think you have this love that’s so strong, you know? And nothing can penetrate it. And then, the next thing you know, smash! Your love is dead and it’s just lying there, feet up, for everyone to look at as they drive past!”
Oh, brother! Tig thought.
Robbie couldn’t persuade Olivia that the song was a stinker, so the girls had to take a vote on whether they’d try to add it to the set list. It was three to two, with Robbie, Tig, and Paris voting against and Olivia and Claire voting for. Claire had to admit, though, that even she didn’t like the song; she was just trying to be supportive. For poor Olivia. Poor, sweet Olivia, who had been all but destroyed by the evil Will. Tig wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take.
Luckily, Kyra came by after the song vote had been taken. Since she generally liked terrible pop songs, and since her own parents’ love had so recently become a dead armadillo, she might have thrown her support behind Olivia too. But the vote was over when she arrived, so Kyra instead offered advice on how the girls could move during the songs to make the show more appealing.
After two straight hours of practice, the girls called it a day. Homework and tests didn’t stop just because they had a big audition. They’d practiced two hours a day every day that week in spite of their school commitments.
“I’m proud of us,” Tig said. “We’ve worked hard, and we’re going to have to work even harder if we actually get the gig, but I think we’re ready for the audition tomorrow.” Tig’s phone rang. She looked at the screen. It was her uncle Paul. “Give me a second, y’all,” she said.
“Hey, Uncle Paul,” Tig said. “What’s up?”
“Are you at band practice right now?” he asked.
“Yes, as a matter of fact,” said Tig.
“Great,” he replied. “Put me on speaker. I want all the girls to hear this.”
“Listen up, everybody,” Tig said, turning her phone on speaker. “We’re all listening, Uncle Paul.”
“I’ve got big news,” he said. “Incredible, really. Unprecedented, in fact.”
“What is it?” Tig asked.
“The commercial? The fake one? Well, when it went to nationals, the client had the deciding vote. The pants the commercial advertises are fake, of course, but the client is real.”
“We know,” Tig said. “Everybody shops there. But what’s the big news?”
“The news is that the client absolutely loved the fake commercial. So much so that they want to feature you girls in a real one.”
The girls looked at one another, gasped, and then began squealing and jumping up and down.
“Are you for real?” Tig asked.
“Very for real,” Uncle Paul said.
“Are they going to fly us to New York to make a commercial?” Robbie said.
“They’ll probably film it here in town to keep costs down,” Tig’s uncle said. “But they plan to release the commercial nationally.”
“That’s amazing!” said Claire.
“I can’t believe this!” said Olivia. “We’re going to be on national TV!”
“We?” asked Paris. “Or y’all?”
Everyone stopped for a moment to ponder Paris’s question. Then they looked at Kyra. “I’m not in the band anymore,” said Kyra.
“Uncle Paul,” said Tig, “Paris is our new bass player. What does that mean for the commercial?”
“Hmmm,” said her uncle. “I’m not really sure. It would be up to the client.” He promised to talk to his contact as soon as possible and let them know. “Go ahead and send me a photo and a short video of the new lineup. They’ll want to see if they like Paris’s look. I know that sounds shallow, but it is a visual medium. It matters.”
“How could anyone not like her looks?” Tig said. “I’ll send you a pic. She’s gorgeous.” Paris blushed.
“Just got the picture. Looking at it right now. She’s a pretty girl, yes,” Uncle Paul said. “But she looks older than the rest of you. The client may think she looks too mature. You never know. Just send the video, okay?”
The girls agreed and then hung up. “Kyra,” Tig said, “I don’t know what to say. I know you were in the original commercial, but I don’t want to be unfair to Paris.”
“It’s all right,” said Kyra. “I mean, would I love to be on TV? Yeah. I’d be lying if I said no. But you have to think long-term. This will be nationwide exposure for Pandora’s Bo
x. If it takes off, you’ll get offers for appearances, and who knows? Maybe even a record deal. As much as I’d like to be, I’m just not enough of a musician to keep up with all that. I’d only drag the band down. You know that and I know it.”
Tig was stunned at how mature Kyra was being about all this. She wasn’t sure she could’ve done the same in her place.
“Besides,” Kyra said, “I’m sure the client will approve of Paris. They’re after the all-girl band novelty. Replacing one girl bass player with another isn’t that big of a deal.”
“It’s a big deal for you, though,” said Robbie. “You sure you’re okay with this?”
“Hey, I’m not saying I’m thrilled about it,” Kyra replied. “But like I’ve told Tig, I’ve made peace with the fact that I’m not a musician. You five are. So just do your thing and let me ride your coattails, all right?” She smiled.
“We’ve got to make a video for the client,” Paris said.
“I can get one tomorrow of y’all at the West Al audition,” Kyra said. “No problem.”
“The audition,” Tig said. “As much as I’d like to wrap my head around all this with the commercial, we’d better keep our minds on that audition. I don’t want to blow it.”
The girls agreed: audition first, commercial next.
Chapter Fifty-One
Stage outfits were a big deal twice over this time. The girls wanted to impress the West Al people, but they also needed to look cool in the video Kyra would be shooting. Since they didn’t know what sort of clothes the commercial might be selling, Kyra had suggested they all go in different fashion directions. That way, the client could envision multiple options and decide on the vibe they wanted once the time came to shoot the commercial.
Olivia wore a pink linen dress, which wouldn’t have looked at all right for the occasion except for the fact that Olivia was so willowy that the spaghetti straps and the giant silver earrings framed her beautiful collarbone. Tig couldn’t exactly do a dress or skirt while playing drums, so she opted for floral shorts and a loosely crocheted sweater and tank. Paris mixed a striped, short-sleeved sweater with a leopard print skirt. Robbie opted for an uncharacteristically romantic hippie look, with a flowy top and long, untied scarf with shorts, knee socks, and booties, but she gave it an edge with a big metal bracelet. Claire kept it simple with cuffed boyfriend jeans and a bulky black sweater, her hair decidedly undone and wispy to capture the laid-back feel of her ensemble.
They arrived at the West Al Academy auditorium the next afternoon just in time to see the end of another band’s audition.
“That’s New Haircut. I’ve heard of them,” Robbie said. “They’re awesome.”
New Haircut—all college students—had six musicians and two female backup singers in addition to the lead. The backup singers also did choreography. And quite well. They were just finishing up the Ike and Tina Turner version of “Proud Mary” when the girls arrived.
“I’m nauseated at how good that was,” Olivia said to Tig. “We are so out of our league.”
Tig couldn’t form the words to reply. Olivia was exactly right.
“Look at this,” Claire said. She picked up a piece of paper that had been left in a stack on one of the back chairs. It was the other band’s set list . . . except that it really wasn’t a set list, per se. Instead the top of the page said, New Haircut: Samplings. There were about fifty songs.
“They know so many songs, this is just a sampling!” Claire said. “We are so doomed.”
“We’re never going to get this gig,” Paris said. “And I can live with that. But what do you say we just sneak out quietly right now so we don’t humiliate ourselves?”
“Positive thinking!” Kyra said. “Besides, I’ve got to get a video for the commercial people, and where else are we going to get stage lighting and such a good setup? Just do your best.”
The prom committee members stood up and cheered when the other band finished their song. “That was awesome,” said a high-school boy who seemed to be in charge.
“Thank you,” said a girl. “Your demo tape was excellent, but it does help us a lot to see how you come across live.”
As New Haircut packed up their instruments and left the stage, the boy called, “Pandora’s Box?”
Tig was sure she’d throw up, but she managed to say, “We’re here.”
“Great,” said the boy. “We’ll give you a couple of minutes to set up.”
The girls opened with “Blitzkrieg Bop,” which went off without a hitch. Then, without a pause, they moved into “Good Riddance.” Tig thought both songs went well. At least the video for the commercial client would be good, even though they’d never get the prom gig.
“Your set list,” the boy said. “Is this a sampling or a complete, exhaustive list?”
Tig wanted to bluff, but she knew bluffing was the same as lying. And hadn’t she done plenty of lying in the last few months? She thought of how lies had a habit of coming back to bite her. “We’re a new band, obviously,” Tig said. “So those are all the songs we know.”
The boy nodded. Then the girl asked, “So, if someone wanted to make a request, what would you do?”
“I guess we’d have to be honest and tell them we couldn’t do it,” Tig said. If honesty was supposed to be the best policy, why did it feel so humiliating?
“Thank you for your time,” the boy said. “We’ll be in touch.”
As the girls packed up their equipment, they noticed Kyra going over to the committee’s table and whispering something to the group.
“What’s she doing?” Robbie asked Tig.
“Probably apologizing,” Tig replied. “What were we thinking? We’re so not ready for the West Al prom!”
“Aren’t you glad we didn’t ask Kyra to be our manager?” Robbie said. “This was her big idea, after all. She’s overly confident.”
“I suppose so,” Tig said. “Man, I would’ve loved to have gotten this prom!”
“Maybe one day,” Robbie said.
Tig’s mom took the girls out for pizza after the audition. They commiserated about how embarrassing it was to have to go on after New Haircut.
“If we are this pizza,” Robbie said, “New Haircut is filet mignon.”
“If New Haircut is a Porsche,” said Olivia, “we’re my dad’s old, dinged-up pickup truck.”
“They’re Godiva chocolate,” said Claire, “and we’re those rubbery, pale orange peanut things no one eats.”
“Circus peanuts,” said Tig.
“Right!” said Claire. “We’re circus peanuts.”
“I like circus peanuts,” said Paris.
“I suppose they serve their purpose,” said Tig. “They’re a novelty. But there’s not much to them. It’s a good comparison.”
“Stop whining,” Kyra said. “Y’all had a great audition! You didn’t miss a note!”
“Oh, but when the committee chairman asked about requests!” said Robbie. “Didn’t you just want to climb under a rock?” They all agreed.
“Well, if I could play as well as y’all do,” Kyra said, “I wouldn’t hide anywhere. I’d be proud. And you all should be too.” Kyra’s phone rang. “I have to take this.”
“Probably Milo,” said Robbie.
“They broke up. Didn’t I tell you?” asked Tig.
“No,” said Robbie. “Milo dumped her?”
“I think she dumped him,” said Tig.
“She did,” Paris said. “Milo told me about it at school. They’re still friends, though.”
“No one tells me anything,” said Robbie.
“I guess we’ve been too concerned with the audition to think about Kyra’s love life,” said Olivia. “And mine.”
“Olivia, we’re so sorry!” said Claire. “We’ve been insensitive, haven’t we? It’s been a few days since I’ve asked how you were doing.”
“I’m glad no one’s asked,” said Olivia. “It’s helped. I think I’m getting over it. Like Tig said, all this practice f
or the audition hasn’t left room for thinking about much else. And that’s been a good thing.”
Kyra came back to the table. “What’d I miss?” she asked.
“Nothing much,” said Tig. “Who was that?”
“Just the West Al Academy prom committee chairman,” said Kyra.
The girls groaned.
“The big ‘thanks but no thanks’?” Tig asked.
“Not exactly,” said Kyra. “You kinda got the job.”
“Right,” Robbie said. “And also, we just won the lottery.”
“I’m serious,” said Kyra. “You kinda got the job.”
The girls all began talking at once, asking questions about how, why, and what about New Haircut?
“Hold up,” Tig said. “What do you mean we kinda got the job?”
“I mean, it wasn’t exactly what you had in mind,” Kyra said. “And the pay isn’t going to be three thousand dollars.”
“Kyra!” Tig said. “Spit it out! What’s going on?”
“Pandora’s Box is going to be the warm-up act,” Kyra explained. “You’ll play your set list before New Haircut performs for the rest of the evening. Your pay is going to be three hundred and fifty dollars, total. Not per person. But I did get them to agree to having your favorite snacks in the dressing room: peanut-butter-filled pretzels for Robbie, ginger ale for Claire, and barbeque chips for Tig and Paris. I didn’t specify for Olivia because, come on, what doesn’t she eat?”
No one said anything.
“You’re upset?” Kyra asked. “Look, I can ask for those ice pops she likes if they have a freezer close by. . . .”
“No,” Tig said.
Before Tig could finish her thought, Kyra added, “Well, if it’s the money you’re upset about, just remember that the exposure and the prestige of West Alabama Academy’s prom is worth something too, and—”
“Nobody’s upset!” Tig said. “We’re just kind of shocked. How did you do it?”
“After the audition, I told them about how you’d done opening-act gigs before. Then I told them about the commercial,” Kyra said. “They’d already seen your social media page and how it’s blowing up with fans. The commercial cinched it. How could they pass up being the first prom to showcase a rising national talent? And maybe the last. I told them that after the commercial airs, you guys might not be playing proms anymore. This was probably their only chance to ever book you.”
