You Should See Me in a Crown(10)
With all the papers and signatures and talk of photoshoots and public appearances, I felt like Beyoncé’s personal assistant (because I’m sure Queen Bey doesn’t have to actually use her holy and precious time for that sort of thing anymore).
I went home to finish my homework and practice my solo for the spring concert but ended up helping Granny cook dinner and then debriefing on the phone with Gabi about who was at the meeting and what was said for two hours afterward instead. By the time I finished my lab report for AP Chem and the rough draft of my paper for AP Lit, I was almost too tired to run through my music, but I forced myself through it anyway. I barely got any sleep.
So believe me when I say I’m definitely too tired for the fifth-degree interrogation I’m currently getting from Gabi.
“I told you that I never actually got her name.” I grab my case from my locker in the back of the band room as Gabi grabs hers. “I just know that she’s new and she seems to be … different. But, like, in a good way?”
“Well, I don’t like it one bit.” Gabi tsks as she sits down and adjusts her music stand. “Do you think she’s an agent of Rachel’s sent to scope you out? I wouldn’t put it past her. You know she’s wanted to find a weakness in you since the day you beat her out for line leader in the second grade.”
I pause. “Let me just get this straight. You think the new girl’s … a spy?”
Gabi looks at me with her carefully plucked eyebrows raised to her hairline. “You kid! But I’m telling you, watch out. Remember: There are no real allies in war, only people who are valuable enough at the moment to delay the inevitable destruction they will eventually face at your own hands.”
“I can’t tell if you’ve been reading The Art of War again or The Hunger Games.”
“Both. Obviously.”
The bell rings, and something inside me settles. The world may be spinning at a thousand miles per hour, and I’m not sure where I’m headed or how to get there, but here, in front of my music, I’m grounded. I’m centered.
Mr. K stands in front of us to make his announcements before we start playing, and—
“Sorry I’m late!” The girl from the meeting—the double agent with the gorgeous eyes—rushes in, late again. She doesn’t have a skateboard this time, but she’s just as frazzled as she was at the meeting yesterday evening.
Gabi elbows me and mouths, Is that her?
I nod back and try to keep my face impassive as Mr. K brightens. Even if I hadn’t already met her, she would have been hard not to clock as a new student.
Everything about her screams “I’m not from around here!” and has an edge of “But don’t even think about messing with me.” Her red hair is cut into an asymmetrical bob that reveals a dandelion tattoo behind her right ear, and her outfit looks like she walked straight off a Thrasher Magazine cover—rolled black mom jeans, dirty bright-orange-and-white Vans, and a camo jacket over her FEMME THE FUTURE hoodie that she clearly has carefully bleached and distressed herself.
Her nose is pierced with one simple emerald stud in the right nostril and two silver hoops in the other. I think for a second she might be ready to give Britt a run for her money as the most idgaf-I-wear-whatever-I-want student at Campbell.
“Class, this is our new drummer.” He turns to her. “What would you like to be called?”
She waves a little and smiles. “My name’s Amanda, um, McCarthy, but everyone calls me Mack.”
“This is our new drummer, Mack. Mack is stepping in for Kevin for the rest of the semester, due to his … unfortunate prom-related injury.” He shakes his head.
Three weeks ago, we lost our drummer, Kevin Kilborn, to a promposal gone wrong. He attempted a backflip off the roof of his garage, holding a sign that said: LAURIE FERRIS, I’VE ABSOLUTELY FLIPPED FOR YOU. PROM? and, well, he didn’t quite land on his feet. Literally or figuratively. Not only did Laurie turn him down (citing “commitment issues” on her Campbell Confidential feed later that night, according to Gabi), but he broke his left wrist and both index fingers in the process. The whole thing was live-streamed on CC, and Kevin hasn’t come back to school since.
Mr. K gestures in my direction. “Liz can help you get all set up after class at some point this week, but for now, you can grab a seat at the kit in the back and maybe just try to get a feel for the music today?”
She meets my eyes and offers me a little wave as she goes to her seat, and my mouth gets all weird and dry. All the feelings of being at peace and at one with the music are out the window as she breezes by me. I don’t believe in fairy tales and love at first sight and all that, but for just a second, I think this girl and those eyes and the way her freckles dot the entire expanse of her face are cute enough to make a believer out of me.
When Gabi elbows me again though, I snap out of it. She mouths, Definitely a secret agent.
And yeah, my best friend might be a little unhinged, but I have to get real. Fast.
After all, Lightys don’t get fairy tales.
My phone is buzzing with another text from Granny, and I know I should be getting home soon for dinner. But Gabi is talking a mile a minute, and I’m taking notes like everything she’s saying is going to be on an exam later. I don’t want to miss a single thing.