“We need all of you here too,” I told them. “Nothing like a live audience to make us focus.” An apologetic cheer went up in response, but I knew I had their attention now, which was the main thing. “And finally, before we go, I think we all need to hear what Josh has to say to Kallie.”
Josh’s look of surprise was the most honest response I’d ever seen from him. “What are you talking about?”
I shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. How about an apology? How about a promise to stop stalking her?”
Tash snorted with laughter. Josh turned red. The portion of the crowd clearly marked as his entourage took a step back.
“Fine. I’m sorry I was rude to you, Kallie. And I’m sorry I sabotaged our performance.”
I’d been so certain Josh wouldn’t apologize that I wasn’t sure where to look when he’d finished. Neither was Kallie, although she nodded in grudging acceptance.
“And while I’m at it,” continued Josh, “I’m sorry that our performance has been viewed a quarter of a million times on YouTube.” He looked at me, steely-eyed. “And I’m sorry this notoriety has allowed Piper to start selling our songs for a buck apiece over the band’s MySpace page.”
Suddenly all eyes were on me. “Oh, yes. I was going to mention that,” I said.
“I’m sure you were. So how much have we raised so far?”
“I—I don’t know. I forgot to check.”
“You forgot?”
I nodded mutely.
“Well, you be sure to tell us as soon as you know. We don’t want anyone thinking you’re hiding something from us, and I’m certain Tash and Kallie will want to hear the good news.”
Will began to wander off before Josh had finished, and everyone else followed straight afterward. And even though I hadn’t done anything wrong, I felt like I’d just been found guilty of embezzlement. How did he do it?
Eventually it was just Josh and Ed and me. Ed signaled that he’d meet me at chess club, then ran off before he risked getting into any trouble. As the only member of Dumb to escape Tuesday’s misadventures without getting suspended, he was clearly eager to maintain his clean slate.
“You, Tash, and Kallie—quite the cozy threesome,” said Josh finally.
I ground my teeth. “Ever thought of putting your evil powers to good use?”
Josh shook his head. “No. Have you?” He laughed at my angry expression. “Look, we need to call a truce. Trying to humiliate me like that isn’t going to help Dumb move forward.”
“An honorable sentiment given that you tried to destroy the band two days ago.”
“Ooh, great comeback! Shame there’s no one around to hear it. But then, that’s the story of your life, isn’t it? So assured as long as things are going by the script, but you can’t improvise to save your life.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Seattle Today. I saw you hovering at the edge of the studio. You could have stopped things by telling the stage manager to cut the feed. You could have walked onstage and ended it yourself, but you didn’t. When things turned ugly, you froze—not a way to win anyone’s trust. And now everyone’s concerned about where the money from the song sales is going.”
“That’s bull. Everyone knows I’ll share it evenly.”
“Is that what you think their looks meant? Interesting.”
I wanted to hit him so badly. I could probably have gotten in a good right hook before he was able to defend himself. “What is it you really want, Josh?”
“I want to undo my worst mistake. I want us to let Kallie go.”
“I think the whole world got that message on Tuesday.”
“I know, and I really am sorry I did those things. I just got so mad about the way Kallie contributes nothing musically but gets all the attention. I was even willing to break up the band if that’s what it took to get rid of her, but I’m grateful to you for keeping us together.”
I wanted to roll my eyes, but the line sounded so genuine. Josh Cooke: snake oil salesman.
“You know I’m not going to get rid of Kallie,” I said.
“And you know that Dumb is on life support if you don’t. We can only go so far with a guitarist who can’t play guitar. Record label executives can spot that kind of thing from a mile off.”
“Forget it, Josh. I’ve already had to threaten her to keep her in the band, and the only reason she’s agreed to keep going now is because she doesn’t want to let me down.”
“If she’s so ambivalent, she won’t be too disappointed when you tell her she’s out.”
“No. Dumb stays as it is. If you’ve gotten sick of one of the flavors, that’s your problem.”
“And if you don’t make it clear to Kallie that Saturday is her final show, I’ll be your problem too.”
I hesitated just a moment. “Oh, really? What are you going to do this time—set fire to the Showbox?”
Josh laughed. “You’re funny, but unimaginative. I can do so much better than that.”
CHAPTER 45
Our first chess game only lasted seven minutes. I was furious at Josh, and channeled my anger into bludgeoning Ed in just fourteen moves. For his part, Ed seemed to be concentrating even more poorly than usual. He was constantly glancing at my hair, but looked away whenever I made eye contact. It was making me feel really self-conscious.
“Are you ZARKINFIB?” I asked.
Ed narrowed his eyes. “I thought that was Baz.”
“No.”
“Oh. But you can’t possibly . . . I mean, why would I do it?”
I shook my head because I was certain Ed was innocent, and besides, he wasn’t responsible for my foul mood. “So how long are you grounded?” I asked as we set up the board for another game.
“I’m not grounded,” said Ed, his eyes flicking from the chess pieces to my hair.
“How come?”
“I wasn’t the one fighting, remember? I was the one on the bottom of the pile. I think even on our low-def eighteen-inch TV my parents could work that out.”
That was enough to make me break a smile. “You have enlightened parents.”
“I do,” he agreed. “Plus, I didn’t exactly play hooky and get my hair dyed pink.”
“Oh, that,” I said, like I’d already forgotten about it, instead of spending every other second checking myself out in reflective surfaces. “I take it you don’t approve.”
“No, no. I like it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” Ed paused, furrowed his brow. That’s good, he signed jerkily.
I was impressed he’d learned any signs at all, and immediately returned Thank you.
You’re welcome.
I laughed, mostly because I was so touched, but I got the feeling Ed thought I was laughing at his attempts to sign. “You sign well,” I assured him. “And I’m glad you like my hair.”
“It’s good to see you emerge from your shell. You’ve been hiding too long.”
I felt myself blush, and I wasn’t sure how to reply, so I stared at the board and concentrated on that. Over the next minute—two moves each—I put Ed in checkmate. Fool’s mate, it’s called, because only a fool wouldn’t see it coming.
As I watched Ed struggling to come to terms with what I’d done, I couldn’t help laughing. I expected him to laugh too, but he just stared at the board like he suspected I’d cheated.
“How did you do that?” he asked.
“It’s just fool’s mate.”
“What’s fool’s mate?”
I narrowed my eyes, waited for him to say he was kidding. “It’s just, well . . . you know . . . fool’s mate. You know what that is, right?”
He looked hurt. “No, Piper. I don’t.”
“How can you play chess this long and not know that?”
“I guess I’m slow.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I added quickly. “It’s just . . . you spend so long playing, aren’t you interested in knowing about classic maneuvers, and defensive plays?”
Ed stared at his pieces for a moment and then toppled his king roughly.
“I’m sorry, Ed. I figured you weren’t paying attention.”
He stood up and grabbed his bag. “Yeah, well, at least I’m not alone, then.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“God, Piper. Dumb died on Seattle Today. Anyone could see that. And the only reason my parents didn’t ground me is because I promised them the band was over.”
“Why do they care?”
“Are you serious? They care because my grades are falling, and they never see me anymore. I have an audition at Peabody in the middle of February, but I don’t even have time to practice. I haven’t had a marimba lesson in a month.”
“So why did you say you want to keep the band going?” I shot back defensively.
“I didn’t, at first. But then you made me, and I didn’t want to let you down.”
“So everything is my fault?”
Ed shook his head. “Look, Piper, however bad the past two days have been for you, they’ve been a whole lot worse for me. A quarter of a million people have watched me getting my ass whipped on YouTube. And if that wasn’t bad enough, I waited by your car for an hour after the security guards threw me out of the studio. You were supposed to give me a ride back to school, but you never showed up. I caught a bus, but school was almost over, so they gave me my first ever detention.”
I swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that.”
“And until now you hadn’t thought about it either.”
He was right, of course, and I felt terrible. “I really am sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he said, too decent to remain angry even when it was called for. He looked at the chessboard. “Look, I didn’t ask for any of this. All I wanted was ...”
“What?”
His mouth was open, but the words just weren’t there. “Nothing.” He didn’t look back on his way out the door.
It was the first time we’d argued. And something told me it had nothing to do with my hair.
CHAPTER 46
There was only one message in my in-box that afternoon when I got home, but it was from Marissa, so I opened it right away. I figured that I might as well deal with all fractured friendships on the same day.
Surprisingly the e-mail was an apology—for not being in touch, for not listening better, for not realizing how much the band mattered to me. Most of all, it was to check that I was okay. I sent a reply asking her to IM me as soon as she got home, and half an hour later a message appeared on the screen.
Marissa asked me about the Seattle Today incident. Her questions were really detailed too, like she’d watched the YouTube footage at least a dozen times. When I said the band was still together, she seemed pleased rather than shocked. Then she said that Ed looked cooler now that his braces had been removed.
P1P3R: i’d forgotten about his braces. how did u remember that?
MARI55A: r u kidding? ed = cute. i had major crush
P1P3R: u never told me
MARI55A: cuz he liked u, not me
P1P3R: no way
MARI55A: yes way. why do u think he joined chess club?
I sat bolt upright, feeling like a coach doused in Gatorade when the game has been won.
MARI55A: ok, don’t answer that. what about rest of dumb? u like?
I tried to stop my hands from shaking.
P1P3R: yes. tash and kallie hang out with me
MARI55A: they ignored us for years
P1P3R: they’re different now. u’d like them
MARI55A: if u say so. just promise me u won’t get green hair
P1P3R: lol. no way. got pink instead
MARI55A: ha!
P1P3R: srsly!
MARI55A: omg. ooVoo me
P1P3R: can u ooVoo again?
MARI55A: yes
I shifted to the browser, loaded ooVoo, and made the connection with Marissa. A few seconds later she appeared on my screen, and then there was nothing but stillness and silence.
It was Marissa, but not the Marissa I remembered. Gone was the mousy brown hair, replaced by cascading blond curls. She wore dangly earrings and a chunky necklace color-coordinated with her form-fitting flower-print T-shirt. Unless the color was way off on my laptop screen, she wore half a cosmetics store on her face. She looked like she’d undergone a complete makeover with one of Kallie’s supermodel wannabes, or more likely, Donna Stevens’s stylist.
You look different, we signed simultaneously, then laughed nervously.
You look great, I signed, realizing that my face had probably already betrayed my surprise, and, also, my disappointment that she’d changed so much without me.
You too.
Silence. I could feel her slipping away from me with every second that passed, but I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t even know who she was anymore. And I knew Marissa was thinking the same thing, right up to the moment that she raised a hand to her face and brushed away a tear.
I’m so sorry. I’ve ruined everything, she signed.
What are you talking about?
Marissa disappeared for a moment and returned with a tissue. She dabbed her eyes gently, careful not to disturb the artfully applied mascara and eyeliner. My computer was never broken. I just didn’t want you to see me.
Why not?
Because I look like one of Kallie’s friends. Admit it, it’s true.
I nodded. There didn’t seem to be any point in lying.
It was so hard for me when I moved out here. You weren’t around, but then I started to make some new friends, and I just wanted to be different than I was in Seattle, you know? I just got tired of blending in.
A part of me wondered if she might not blend in even more now than before. But I couldn’t blame her for wanting to change. Anonymity hadn’t been a problem as long as we’d had each other—hiding out together had barely felt like hiding at all—but apart, it became unbearable. I understood that completely. I really did.
You’re beautiful, I said.
As Marissa peered at me through her tears, I got the feeling she was looking at my hair.
Not like you. You were always prettier than me. And so much stronger. I wouldn’t be brave enough to get pink hair if my life depended on it, but it looks amazing on you. You’re amazing.
So are you.
Thanks. Marissa smiled bravely. So have you and Ed hooked up yet?
No. I didn’t know he was interested in me until just now.
Marissa rolled her eyes and cocked an eyebrow at the same time—a new gesture in her repertoire. How could you not know?
I just didn’t. I shrugged. I wish you’d told me.
I’m sorry. I was jealous, remember? I used to watch Ed in the cafeteria, and for a while I thought he was staring at me every time he looked over at us. But then he joined the chess club, and I knew it was you he liked.
That must have been tough.
Marissa smiled ruefully. Torture. I’m not sure how he could have been any more obvious. You’re deaf, but there’s no excuse for being blind as well.
I nodded, accepting the criticism. But inside I felt shaken up. The old Marissa was kinder, gentler than that. Maybe her makeover wasn’t limited to the outside.
I miss you, she signed, summoning one last bittersweet smile.
I miss you too, I signed back. But I worried that what we really missed were versions of each other that might no longer exist. And as I closed the computer, I wondered what it meant that my thoughts had already turned to making up with Ed, not Marissa.
CHAPTER 47
“Anyone want a latte?” I asked as I left the dinner table. I needed to see Ed, and right away.
Mom looked at me like I’d grown an extra head. “Where are you going to get a latte?”
“Coffee Crew.”
“You’re grounded.”
“It’s just a cup of coffee.”
Dad stood up. “Actually, I’d like one too. But Mom’s right, you’re gr
ounded. So I come as well, and I drive.”
Mom’s eyebrows lifted to her hairline. “Hold on a minute, I . . . Oh, heck, just bring me one too.”
Before she could change her mind, I dashed outside and waited for Dad to join me.
Five minutes later, we pulled up in front of Coffee Crew. “That looks like Ed Chen,” Dad said, looking through the shop windows.
I was about to feign ignorance when something dawned on me. “How do you know Ed?”
“He’s taking the same signing course as me.” Dad narrowed his eyes, deep in thought. “He’s the drummer in your band, right?”
I tried to answer, but I couldn’t get past the fact that Ed was learning to sign . . . for me.
Dad leaned back in his seat, smiling like the pieces of the puzzle had just fallen into place. “All right. I want a double tall two-percent. Same for Mom. I’ve got to pick up some milk from the grocery store. I’ll be back in half an hour, okay?”
I swallowed hard. “Okay. Thanks, Dad.”
He smiled. “You’re welcome. . . . Oh, and Piper,” he added, “don’t forget the coffees. Crucial for our alibi.”
I snorted and jumped out of the car, then waited a couple seconds while he drove away.
Ed was brushing coffee grounds off the counter when I walked in, and hesitated when he saw me. When he resumed, he seemed to be moving slower than before.
“Can we talk, Ed?”
He dropped the grounds into the trash and turned to face me. “What about?”
I picked up a green Magic 8-Ball on the counter and read my fortune: Buy pork bellies. Not likely.