Battle of the Bands

by Jen Calonita

  “No, but Mac might have,” Heath said, and all eyes were on me again.

  “I didn’t,” I said guiltily. I was letting the guys down. Again.

  “This is probably payback for what happened the other night onstage,” Heath said darkly. “But that guy messed with the wrong band.”

  “You have to postpone the video,” Zander begged. “I can’t be recorded looking like this.”

  “We can’t cancel. Everything is ready to go, the extras are lined up, and money is on the line,” Briggs said. He touched Kyle’s head. “Maybe we can work the hair dye into the video story line.”

  “How?” Kyle asked.

  “I’ll talk to the director and think of something,” Briggs promised. “Just finish getting styled and get out there.”

  “But—” Zander protested.

  “No buts. Just get ready.” Briggs sounded agitated. “And, Mac? You should probably go so they can work faster.”

  I didn’t even get my makeup or hair done yet! It didn’t seem like anyone cared about that at the moment, though. Did this mean I wasn’t an extra anymore? Was Kyle mad at me, even though I hadn’t done anything wrong? I wasn’t sure.

  All I could think was that Madam Celeste was a very wise psychic.

  And I hated her for it.

  Sunday, July 3

  LOCATION: Williamsburg, Virginia

  SCARLET’S CELL: This one is REALLY bad.

  As soon as I saw Scarlet’s text, I knew: Bad Kitty was back with another vlog, and it was going to be a smelly batch of kitty litter. Jilly and I hovered over my phone on the hotel room bed and watched her latest video.

  “Hey, kitty cats, this is Bad Kitty here with today’s gossip! Who were those ridiculous bleach boys filming a video in Love Park in Philadelphia recently? We hear it’s none other than Perfect Storm, and their shoot was so disastrous we doubt they’ll be invited back for a cheesesteak anytime soon. The guys were said to be difficult. Apparently they insisted on doing their own hair, which took a wrong turn when the guys picked up bleach instead of shampoo! Meow! If that wasn’t bad enough, they left their fans hanging for hours before finally emerging to shoot a scene with extras. The guys didn’t even stop for autographs after filming! What bratty boy banders! What do you expect from guys who sleep with Tigger stuffed animals—Heath!—are afraid of green foods and drinks—Zander!—and talk to their mamas five times a day on their phones—Kyle! In other news, Thunder and Lightning continues to take the music world by storm with its latest—”

  I paused the video with shaky fingers and looked at Jilly. “She’s lying about the video shoot—the guys had to rework the story line, which is why they filmed so long they had no time for autographs—but she’s right about the personal stuff,” I admitted. “Jilly, those things are written in my journal!”

  “Even the part about Kyle talking to his mom five times a day?” Jilly asked. “That part sounded made up.”

  “It’s not. Kyle just told me that the other day when I saw him texting with a Kiki—that’s the name he stores his mom under in his phone. He was sort of embarrassed about it, but I thought it was cute and I”—my voice gave out—“wrote it in my journal.”

  “Huh.” Jilly began to bite a strand of her hair, which was her new habit. “I had no idea Kyle was such a momma’s boy. It’s kind of cute. But Bad Kitty shouldn’t know that. How does she know that? Mikey G. has your journal when you don’t have it on you!”

  “I know!” I threw my head back on the hotel’s luxurious triple pillows. “I only take my journal back from him to write in it.” (Like now.) “Then I give it right back to him.” I looked at Jilly. “There’s no way someone would know he keeps it in his Life After Life DVD case unless they saw him put it in there.” I handed her a pack of gum from my pocket, and she stopped sucking on her hair to pop a piece in her mouth.

  “Mikey G. is too smart to let someone spy on him,” Jilly said, chewing loudly. “I’m sure she didn’t get any of this info from your journal. It’s just not possible. Try not to freak out.”

  I didn’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have Jilly to talk to. Mom had her hands full with this crazy boy band tour. Iris and Scarlet were far away and consumed with PS Social Media Command Central, and Kyle and the guys were killing themselves trying to finish their album on the road and come up with a new single. Sometimes I felt a little like that PS boat lost at sea on the album cover I created for the band a few months back. Then Jilly would appear like a tugboat and pull me back to shore.

  “But you didn’t see Kyle’s face the other day at the video shoot,” I said, thinking back. “He looked like he blamed me for Jeremy getting in the makeup trailer.”

  “That’s crazy!” Jilly said, popping a huge bubble. “Both bands are getting out of control with all this pranking!”

  The tricks had intensified since the video shoot. First, a delivery guy from a local pizza place in Boston knocked on Jeremy and Cody’s hotel room door at two AM with twenty pizzas that they hadn’t ordered. (That prank had Heath written all over it.) Then, in Baltimore, Zander had a freak-out when he arrived at the Sizzling Summer Boys concert and found every food and drink in the greenroom, was, well, green, the color he deeply fears. “But you requested all green foods on your rider!” the concert venue manager had said as Zander ran from the room like he was being chased by the Roaring Dragon himself. Mom said she was starting to feel like a babysitter at an unruly preschool. No matter how much she threatened or pleaded, the pranks kept escalating, and somehow Bad Kitty knew about all of them—and more.

  I heard my phone ping again. Scarlet and Iris were back with their daily social media status report.

  IRIS’S CELL: T and L’s followers doubled this week while PS’s only went up by a few hundred.

  SCARLET’S CELL: How are we going to stop Bad Kitty? She has all these posts about how great T and L are, and for some reason she’s trying to destroy PS! She wrote Zander’s biggest fear in life is going bald. Like that could ever happen!

  Jilly and I looked at each other. “I wrote that in my journal last week,” I said. “Zander told me that secret when I bought him that pricey shampoo to help restore his natural hair color. The only person I told was you.”

  “I’m your best friend! I would never tell anyone!” Jilly said defensively.

  “I know, but someone did,” I said worriedly. “How is Bad Kitty finding these things out?”

  “Shh!” Jilly jumped up from the bed and scanned the room with a look that reminded me of her Mac Attack alter ego. “Aha!” She pulled a picture of Colonial Williamsburg off the wall. All that was behind it was more yellow wallpaper. “Huh. Nothing.”

  “What are you doing?” I whispered.

  “Looking for bugs,” Jilly said. “Someone is clearly bugging you. It happened on I Am We the other night.” That is Jilly’s favorite sci-fi show. She ran over and began searching my arms and legs like my mom does after I’ve been in high grass somewhere that could have ticks. “I don’t see any electronic thingies, though.” Her eyes widened. “Do you think someone could have implanted a device in you while you were sleeping?”

  Had this sort of thing ever happened on Life After Life? There had been evil twins and mistaken identities, but as far as I could remember, no one had ever been implanted with a tracker. That was ludicrous. I felt my throat for lumps, then checked behind my ears. “They better not have!”

  Jilly nodded. “It would probably be too hard to do to you when your mom shares a room.” Her face darkened. “But you can never be too careful.”

  I might never sleep again.

  Both of our phones buzzed. There were more texts from PS Social Media Command Central. It’s no wonder Briggs actually liked having my friends unofficially on staff. We knew what the world was saying about Perfect Storm before even the label did.

  IRIS’S CELL: Bad Kitty is reporting Heath’s mom took his credit card away after all those pizzas were delivered to T and L’s hotel room. She said he’d be
en abusing his card and couldn’t have it for a few weeks.

  SCARLET’S CELL: We know that report is true because you’re the one who texted us that, Mac!!!

  Gulp. I wrote that in my journal and texted it to the girls, too! I tapped my phone. “Could our phones be bugged?”

  “I don’t know,” Jilly said, feeling the sides of her phone for I didn’t know what. “Someone knows what you’ve been saying and writing.” She rubbed her chin. “You know I love Mikey G., but can we really trust him? Somehow info that only you know is leaking from your guarded journal. The only way that could happen is if Bad Kitty compromised Mikey G., overheard us talk, or hacked our phones, or you’ve been implanted with a recording device.”

  I held my throat again in horror. “I have not been implanted with a recorder!”

  IRIS’S CELL: Do you think our phones have been hacked???

  Oh no, not them, too!

  “It can’t be my journal,” I stressed. “Mikey G. is solid.” I was sure of that. He loved the guys and would never betray them. “Bad Kitty must be finding these things out another way. I’m not the only one who knows their secrets,” I pointed out. “They must confide in other people, too.”

  “Like who?” Jilly asked. “When you’re famous, everyone wants something from you. That’s what Daddy says. Perfect Storm has to be careful who they let into their inner circle. You’re like family now. They trust you like they trust me.”

  I had reached the inner circle. Being this close to Perfect Storm was something I only ever dreamed about. And now it was happening. Heath and Zander were like brothers to me. Kyle and I could (fingers crossed!) have a future in Paris. All that would go up in smoke if I didn’t figure out how Bad Kitty was learning their secrets.

  I grabbed Jilly’s hand. “How long is PS going to continue to trust me when they realize all their secrets are becoming public? They’ll start to blame me and then—” I gasped. “They’ll kick Mom and me off the tour.”

  “NO WAY,” Jilly said angrily. “I’m not going to let that happen! There’s only one solution: We have to find out who Bad Kitty is and put her back in her crate!”

  I hung my head. “Good luck. Her disguise is so good you can’t tell who she is.”

  Jilly pulled her long hair up into a bun with a pencil. “I know a lot of people through Daddy. I’ll investigate. I’m not going to let some fur ball ruin you.”

  SCARLET’S CELL: Guys? U still there?

  IRIS’S CELL: How are we going to stop Bad Kitty? I really think you have to call in to The Morning Mash Up! Let the guys tell everyone what’s really going on!

  SCARLET’S CELL: And in the meantime, what do you want us to do at command central?

  I needed to channel Mac Attack and figure out if someone was reading my journal. Jilly was going to unmask Bad Kitty before it was too late. We had a lot to do and not a lot of time in which to do it. I texted back the girls.

  MY CELL: Hang tight! Jilly and I have a plan.

  I didn’t have an actual plan yet, but I would get one fast.

  I heard the key card slide into the door.

  “Someone might be breaking in to torture you for your secrets!” Jilly said in horror. “It happened on I Am We the other night.”

  I got into tae kwon do position and thought of Mac Attack. “That won’t happen!”

  The door opened slowly, and I held my breath.

  Mom poked her head in. “Hi, girls!”

  Jilly flopped back down on the bed and took deep breaths.

  “What are you up to?” Mom asked curiously.

  “Worrying about spies,” Jilly mumbled.

  “What?” Mom had on workout clothes, and her short brown hair was pulled back, making her look young enough to be my big sister. “You two look miserable. You need to enjoy this gorgeous day! Guess what I have for you? Hurricane Harbor water park passes!” Mom held out bright blue passes with a wave on them.

  Jilly’s mood immediately lifted. “Cool!”

  “Hurricane Harbor heard Perfect Storm talking about how hot it is here in Virginia when they were on Sizzle 106.3 this morning, and they called Briggs to offer everyone tickets to the park,” Mom explained. “I think all the guys are going and some of the roadies, too, since everyone has the day off.”

  I pulled the water park website up on my phone while Mom continued to talk. It said CHILLAX and had a picture of a girl spinning around in a tube with her eyes closed. Maybe I could chillax on the lazy river and forget all about Bad Kitty and how she was finding out PS’s innermost secrets. Plus it was a water park, which meant NO SHARKS!

  “Let’s go, Mac,” Jilly said, bouncing up and down on the hotel bed. I heard my phone buzz.

  KYLE’S CELL: I hear you might be joining us at Hurricane Harbor.

  KYLE’S CELL: Hoping that’s true because I need a tubing partner. Heath and Zander always pair up and leave me the odd mate out.

  An emoji sad face from Kyle? The thought of Kyle and me sharing a tube all day?

  How could I say no?

  Sunday, July 3

  LOCATION: Still Williamsburg, Virginia*

  (*I had to borrow my journal again because so much happened today! Mikey G. agreed to stand outside my room while I wrote, so here it goes…)

  An hour and a half later (after hiding my journal again), Mikey G. escorted Perfect Storm, Jilly, and me to Hurricane Harbor for the full VIP Chillax experience! We had our own cabana to retreat to between rides, and it was equipped with lounge chairs, a tub full of soft drinks, and a FREE souvenir table that had towels, water bottles, sunglasses, and sunblock with HURRICANE HARBOR stamped on them. Alec, our Hawaiian shirt–wearing guide, said we could also order food to the cabana so that we didn’t have to wait in line with all the park guests!

  “So you’re saying if I wanted to order a double cheeseburger with chili cheese fries at ten AM, I could?” Heath asked. He was wearing a tank top and a pair of board shorts covered in variously colored skulls. “Because I’m starved.”

  “Mate, can we save the stomach-churning eats for after we go on the Drop and Roll?” Kyle asked. “I do not want you throwing up on me on the one-hundred-and-eighty-foot slide.”

  Zander took a seat on a lounge chair underneath a fake palm tree. Even though our cabana was private, it hadn’t stopped girls who’d heard Perfect Storm was coming from crowding around outside and straining to get a picture. Zander took off his sunglasses, removed his shirt (to giant screams), and laid down. “Tell me how the ride is. I don’t want to get my hair wet.”

  Heath groaned. “Dude, your hair is not going to turn orange again.”

  Zander opened one blue eye and looked at Heath. “It might. My hair is just back to its natural brown after all that processing. Simone, my hair reconstructionist, says I have to be careful it doesn’t get brittle. No chlorine.”

  “What the heck is a hair reconstructionist?” Heath said. “Dude, your hair is fine.” He rummaged through the souvenirs and threw Zander a green swim cap that said HH. “Put this on.”

  Zander stared at it curiously. We all started throwing out encouragement so he’d put it on. The cap was so tight it almost pulled his eyes into his forehead. He stood up and puffed out his chest. “How does it look?”

  “Brill, mate,” Kyle said, and winked at me, which made my fingers tingle. If he was winking, then he wasn’t mad about the latest Bad Kitty vlog. Or he hadn’t seen it yet. “Only you could pull that look off.” Kyle had on a rash guard like Heath’s except his was bright yellow (and his swim trunks had surfboards on them).

  “They said you guys have your pick of rides,” Mikey G. told us. “They’ll clear them out so you can avoid the lines whenever you say the word.” He was munching on one of those WHEY OUT! bars again.

  “Dude, what is that nasty smell?” Zander asked.

  Mikey G. stopped chewing. “My WHEY OUT! bars. You should know. You sent them to me.”

  Zander made a face. “They smell awful. I would never send you those t
hings.”

  “Really?” Mikey G. looked like he was thinking this through. “But the card was signed ‘Your favorite people.’ A big box of them was delivered to the front desk.”

  “Speaking of big, the Kahuna slide is massive, and I’m dying to get on it.” Heath rubbed his hands together excitedly. “Or maybe we can try the Toilet Bowl.”

  “The toilet bowl?” Jilly and I repeated.

  “The ride that spins you around, then drops you into another tube like a giant toilet bowl,” said Heath.

  “Gross!” Jilly wrapped her new Hurricane Harbor beach towel around her waist. “What else can we go on? How about the wave pool?”

  “Wave pool!” I chimed in. Anything but a ride Heath had dubbed “the toilet bowl.” I started jumping up and down and waving my hands like I was trying to get Krissy’s attention in tutoring. Kyle mimicked me.

  “Okay, let’s hit the wave pool,” Heath said, and the rest of us cheered.

  “Let me call over and have it cleared,” said Alec, pulling out his walkie-talkie.

  “We don’t need a pool cleared,” Kyle said, and the guys looked at him. “People paid to come here. We can’t put them out. Mikey G. can keep things under control.”

  Zander looked a tad disappointed. “I don’t want anyone to see my swim cap.”

  “We’ll send extra security just in case you need it,” Alec told us.

  Kyle was right. Mikey G. and some Hurricane Harbor lifeguards were a perfect barrier between the guys and any overly excited fans asking to share a tube with them in the wave pool. Once the alarm sounded, people started to scream in excitement and swim off anyway. Within seconds, giant waves began coming out of the tiki huts at the far end of the pool. The waves lifted you up, then dropped you down again, going from really big to really small every few seconds. Heath and Jilly swam all the way out to the huts to fight the biggest waves. Zander was hesitant at first, but he wound up swimming over to some fans who told him they loved his swim cap, and Kyle and I hung out in the section where we could stand when a wave didn’t crash over our heads.