VIP: Battle of the Bands, Page 2

  “Wait, when did you leave?” Heath asked. “I didn’t notice.”

  Scarlet and Iris snorted, and I noticed Lola’s eyes became serpentlike slits. She quickly recovered, wrapping herself around Heath. “Oh, Heath!” she said with a laugh. “That is why I love you. You’re SO FUNNY!” She snapped her fingers, and Bridget and Amber started to laugh, too. Heath looked very confused. Poor guy. “So, what did I miss? Are you done recording? Can we hang?” She gave me a look. “Unlike some people in this room, I don’t have a curfew.”

  The Raven started squawking. “Who are these three?” he asked as Bridget popped another piece of gum into her mouth and blew a massive pink bubble in his face. “Are they staying, too? This is not a good environment for finding the boys’ center of truth through song. I need quiet to record.”

  “Lola, make yourself comfortable,” Briggs said as my mom ran over to soothe The Raven’s nerves. “We can make room so you can hear the guys’ recording session.”

  “If you need room, maybe the little kids could leave.” Lola batted lashes that were as thick and curly as I wished mine were. Mom had a no-makeup rule, too, so the most I got to wear was the occasional swipe of lip gloss. Lola gave me a look. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”

  “Shouldn’t you be?” Jilly shot back. She pulled her hair up in a bun, as she usually did before she did something physical. Normally that was some sort of sport, but at the moment, I was pretty sure she was getting ready to knock Lola out. Iris stepped forward as backup, her arms raised in a tae kwon do stance I remembered from one of our recent classes, while Scarlet gave her best moody stare. The one her mom says she has 85 percent of the day now.

  “No, it’s a staff-development day,” I snapped, and immediately cringed. That made me sound even younger than I am! Why couldn’t I just say no and leave it at that? Mac Attack would have known what to say the first time around.

  Amber and Bridget laughed. “She is so cute,” Bridget said.

  Cute. That word needed to be banned from the dictionary unless it was being used to describe a puppy in a pink basket or a chunky baby in a puffy diaper.

  Lola pretended to pinch my cheek. “It’s like Take Your Daughter to Work Day! Maybe if you’re good, your mom will take you out for ice cream after.”

  Think Mac Attack. Think Mac Attack. “Actually, we’re going out to eat with the guys after they finish up.” I gave her a smug grin. “They invited us. Maybe you’re not their number one fan after all.”

  Lola’s bronzed cheeks fell slightly before she leaned in so only I could hear her. “I guess they needed someone to fawn over them while I wasn’t here, but now that I am, you can step aside. Go home, little girl.” Lola walked over to Kyle while I fumed. “Kyle and I need time together so he can write me a song,” she said loudly. “I hear he’s become quite the songwriter.”

  “He’s got two songwriting credits on the album already,” Heath said as Zander texted alongside him. His phone sounded like a slot machine in Las Vegas. “Tomorrow we record this rocking song he wrote, ‘The Story of a Girl.’”

  “A song about Mac,” Jilly gloated, and Kyle and I both turned a shade of purple associated with grape juice. “I’d say that makes her number one in the guys’ book.”

  “The song is about Mac?” Lola sounded stunned. She glanced at me ever so briefly before lifting her arm off Kyle’s. “Is it a nursery rhyme?” Amber and Bridget laughed again. The rest of us didn’t. “Now it’s time to write a song about a real girl, not a kid. What do you say, boys?” Lola looked to Heath and Zander, but neither of them was paying attention. Heath was too busy snacking, and Zander was still texting. It was a beautiful thing to watch—Lola Cummings being totally ignored. “Zander? Z? Want to write about your favorite girl?”

  “The band is my someone special. I don’t have time to date right now,” he said on autopilot, as if he were being interviewed. Now it was the girls’ and my turn to laugh, causing Zander to snap out of it and look up from his phone. “Huh? What are we talking about?” He spotted Lola, and his eyes widened. “Lola! Hey! When did you get here?” Bridget’s bubblegum bubble burst with a loud pop.

  Lola tried weaving her arms around him. “Zander! Can you write your number one fan a song?” I could see Iris’s jaw set. Even I was ready to breathe fire. My crush on Zander may have ended when we were on the road this spring, but there was no way I was going to let someone like Lola sink her claws into any of my favorite band members, which was all of them. “We can talk about it over dinner and shopping tonight. My treat. What do you say?”

  Zander pushed a lone curl out of his eyes. “Sorry, Lola. We already have plans with Mac, Jilly, and their friends. Rain check?”

  Hee. Hee. Hee.

  “Oh, okay. I just thought, since you hadn’t seen me in a few weeks, you’d drop your plans.” Lola was getting more flustered by the moment. She side-eyed me again, and I couldn’t help but grin as wide as possible. I’m sure I looked like the Joker.

  “Sorry,” Zander said as his phone started to ping some more. “How long are you in town? Maybe we could do another night.”

  Double hee. Hee. Hee.

  “What?” Lola was used to getting her way. “I mean, don’t you think your reservation should include your number one fan?”

  “Oh, it does,” Zander said, missing the question again. He pointed directly at me and flashed a grin so bright that Amber got weak in the knees and had to be caught by Bridget. “Our number one fan is Mackenzie Lowell!”

  Score!

  Zander high-fived me, then bounded back into the recording booth, and this time I had my Mac Attack attitude ready and waiting. Thankfully, Mom and Briggs were both on their phones, so they couldn’t reprimand me for being rude to their sponsor’s daughter. “Jilly, how many times did Zander and the guys say I was their number one fan?” I prepared to count on my fingers.

  “TONS!” Jilly replied gleefully.

  “They also didn’t invite Lola to dinner or take her up on her shopping offer.” I looked at Lola’s friends. “I think you guys are out.”

  “Don’t forget the fact that they’ve never written a song about Lola,” Jilly practically sang.

  “You babies—SMACK!—can’t talk to—SMACK!—us like this,” Bridget said in between gum chewing. “Without Lola’s dad, no one would have even heard of Perfect Storm!”

  “I don’t get what’s going on here.” Lola was shaking. “I feel like I’m having a nightmare or a migraine or both!”

  “Maybe you should go back to your hotel and lie down, then,” Jilly suggested, nudging the bewildered girls to the door. “It’s not like you have plans for dinner!”

  The two older girls were fuming. I noticed Bridget clutching her oversize slouchy bag to her chest like we were going to rob her. She probably had Zander’s jacket in there. She was always stealing the band’s clothes. Then Jilly locked the door behind her and high-fived us.

  YES!

  When we all left the studio together a little later, there was no sign of Big Bird or her friends. Briggs and Mom were ahead of us, talking about some big Lemon Ade show the boys were asked to open for Memorial Day weekend, while the girls and I followed along behind our favorite tired-looking boy banders.

  “Towel? Roaring Dragon? Gum? Refreshing face spray?” Iris held up her bag of post-recording-session must-haves. She’d been working on the kit for a week. “Whatever you need, I’m sure I have it.”

  “Sour cream and onion potato chips?” Heath asked.

  “Spaghetti with meatballs?” Kyle seconded.

  “Someone to answer my tweets for this contest I stupidly decided to throw without asking Piper’s opinion first?” Zander grumbled.

  “Ooh! I can do that!” Scarlet snatched Zander’s phone away. “Let me be ‘you’ so you can rest. I know exactly how you’d answer your tweets anyway. I read every single tweet you guys write!” Scarlet’s fingers flew across the screen, and Zander actually looked relieved.

  Just then, we h
eard a shout from down the hall. “Cody! Look! It’s them!”

  A door opened ahead of us, and two guys wearing T-shirts with lightning bolts on them came running out. They had the same nose, brown eyes, and dark hair. They were clearly brothers.

  “Dude! Dude!” the older-looking brother kept saying, and I tried not to laugh. I knew what it was like to meet Perfect Storm for the first time, and these guys were obviously excited. “I’m Jeremy, and I’m a HUGE fan.” He pumped Zander’s hand. “This is amazing. Dude! Amazing! It’s totally fate that you’re here tonight. Meet my brother, Cody.”

  “Hey, man,” Zander said with a yawn, shaking hands with Cody, who seemed to be around my age. “How are you? Did you guys want a picture or an autograph? We were just heading out.”

  “Autograph?” Jeremy questioned. “No, we’re artists, too. Look!” He and his brother turned so we could see the backs of their T-shirts. There were clouds and lightning bolts on the back, too, along with two words. “We’re Thunder and Lightning. We’re the most intense part of a storm. It’s an ode to you guys, dude!” He hit Zander in the arm.

  “Can they do that?” Zander asked Kyle, frowning. I could almost see his brain working.

  Jeremy’s eyes widened. “Would you guys want to come hear us record our demo? It’s for your label! They want us to be the next you!”

  “Are we going away?” Heath asked the others, and Jilly laughed.

  “No, no, I mean, like you,” Jeremy said, getting flustered. “They want another group like you, so we’re hoping our demo kills it. We’re torn, though, about what song to record for them.”

  Kyle ran a hand through his hair, and Heath exhaled. They hated disappointing fans, but I could tell they were shot, and listening to more music was the last thing they wanted to do.

  “Sorry, guys, they’ve been here for hours,” Jilly jumped in, sounding like her dad. “They have to go. Good luck, though.”

  Jeremy put out his arm. I think it was to stop Zander from walking by, but Zander whipped out the Sharpie he always had in his pocket and wrote on Jeremy’s wrist. “You want an autograph? No problem! Good luck in there.”

  “Wait! Can’t you guys hang for one more minute?” Jeremy tried again, running in front of them. “We really could use your opinion.”

  “Please?” Cody asked, his voice softer than his brother’s. “This could be our big break. We’ve never made a demo.”

  “There’s always a first time,” Zander said with a smile. “I’m sure you’ll pick a winner. Good luck!”

  “Best of luck, mate,” Kyle added as he passed.

  The girls and I followed, and I watched Jeremy’s expression change from über fan to cranky fan. I’d seen this happen before. Everyone wanted something from PS, and there just wasn’t enough time in the day for the guys to please everyone.

  I could hear the two brothers as we walked down the hall. “I can’t believe they couldn’t come in to hear a few track picks,” Jeremy said.

  “It’s okay,” his brother responded. “Thunder and Lightning is going to be huge without Perfect Storm’s help.”

  “You’re right. Forget those dudes,” Jeremy grumbled. I glanced back and saw him trying to rub the signature off his wrist.

  “Good luck!” I called to them in a cheerful voice, even though I thought they were being a bit rude.

  Jilly gave a deep sigh. “That is why I could never be a rock star. Everyone wants a piece of you.”

  I’ll say. The guys were mobbed again outside the recording studio, at the restaurant in Little Italy that didn’t even know we were coming, AND on their way back to the hotel that night. Me? No one even looked at us on the train ride home.

  I was so tired that it took me until I was brushing my teeth to remember I never picked my journal up after I threw it at Kyle’s head. As soon as I realized it was gone, I got jittery like Mom does when she has too much coffee. The second she got off the phone with Briggs, I begged her to whisk us back into the city to break into SoundEscape Mac Attack–style and rescue my diary.

  But Mom surprised me. “Looking for this?” She held out my blue sparkly journal. “I found it down the hall from the studio when I ran in for my phone charger. You must have dropped it out of your bag by accident. You should be more careful.”

  I hugged the journal tightly to my chest. “I know. I’ll never let it out of my sight again,” I vowed. And I meant it.

  Saturday, May 28

  LOCATION: Stone Harbor, New Jersey

  I have to write this down because I don’t think Future Me will believe it happened: I’m spending the weekend at the beach.

  I’ve never been a sand-in-your-hair, zinc-oxide-on-your-nose kind of girl. I don’t drink or eat anything on sand because it can easily get in your soda can or your turkey sandwich with provolone cheese, spicy mustard, and extra pickles (my favorite). Cheese puffs are out, too, because your fingers are sandy, which means they’re going to ruin the puffs. It’s a cheese-puff tragedy waiting to happen.

  And yet here I was at the Jersey Shore, which is known for its boardwalks, funnel cakes, beaches, and occasional shark sightings. (Gulp.) Briggs wanted to be somewhat near Atlantic City to hear some new band play at a casino, so he rented a house in his favorite New Jersey beach town, Stone Harbor. Jilly invited Scarlet, Iris, and me to come with her. May in New Jersey is usually still too chilly to go in the water, but my friends and dozens of others were braving the fifty-degree water temperature to do it. It helped that it was eighty and sunny out.

  Except me. I was sitting on a lounge chair working on sketches for my Mac Attack comic book while I watched Jilly, Scarlet, and Iris boogie-board from a (safe) distance. It’s not like the soft breeze was annoying when it blew my notebook around. And the heat certainly wasn’t getting to me. I read somewhere that it’s good to sweat. My stomach wasn’t growling at the sight of the hoagies that were just delivered to the beach. Boogie-boarding with the girls didn’t look fun, either. Not. At. All.

  Cough.

  I watched Jilly catch a wave that she rode all the way in to shore. She effortlessly stood up, unhooked the boogie board strap from her wrist, and jogged toward me, carrying the board under her arm like a pro. She’s my most athletic friend.

  Jilly wiped the water away from her face. “Aren’t you hot?”

  “Does my red face give me away?” It was sweltering under my umbrella!

  “Walk down and dip your toes in the ocean.” Jilly gave me a fierce look. “I promise there are no sharks here.”

  “They can swim in shallow waters,” I pointed out. “I’ve read it online.”

  Jilly rolled her eyes. “Not that shallow.” She grabbed my hand with her wet one and pulled me up. She was really strong for such a petite girl. “We’re going to be able to fry an egg on you if you don’t cool off.”

  “I’ll go in up to my ankles, but only if we’re in front of the lifeguard stand.” In shark movies, it was always the person swimming too far from the lifeguard who got eaten first.

  Jilly ignored me and led me down to the water. I had to admit, the closer we got to the ocean, the cooler I felt. Kids flew by us on boogie boards, rode waves, or drifted around in tubes. The sound of their happy squeals was interrupted only by the occasional whistle. The guards seemed super strict here. Surely, they’d spot a Sharkinator if a fin were circling the area.

  Iris and Scarlet came splashing toward me, kicking up water as they ran.

  “Attention, all sharks! Mac is in the water. I repeat, Mac is in the water!” Scarlet wiped her wet face with the orange surf shirt she had on over her bathing suit and staked her boogie board in the wet sand. She’d written PS IS MY LIFE! on the bottom of her board.

  “Look, she’s in up to her knees,” Iris pointed out. She was still wearing her tie-dye goggles. She hated getting water in her eyes. “If you can handle that, you can definitely try boogie-boarding next!”

  The water must have pulled me out. I wouldn’t walk into the cool ocean myself, would
I? Then a kid on a boogie board crashed into me, sending me into the water on my hands and knees where—

  “OUCH!” I jumped up and ran back to the shoreline. “Something bit me! Everyone, look for fins.”

  “You probably hit a piece of broken shell.” Scarlet sounded unsympathetic.

  “Be daring, Mac,” Jilly encouraged me. “Think of PS. I’m sure the guys are doing something exciting in the Bahamas. Don’t let them show you up!”

  Perfect Storm was in the Bahamas with Lemon Ade, playing at some resort. I could only imagine the thousands of Lola look-alikes hanging on the guys. They were probably having the best time. Was I really going to mess up my own because of a silly fear of sharks? There were dozens of people in the water. Half of them were under the age of ten, and they didn’t look worried about a shark eating them for lunch.

  “I’ll do it!” I rushed back to the water before I could second-guess myself, grabbing Scarlet’s board and paddling out. I could hear the others cheering, but I was concentrating on not looking down. If I didn’t see how dark the water was, I wouldn’t worry about what was lurking beneath the surface. Jilly paddled up next to me.

  “I thought you’d like some company,” she said, turning her board back to shore to wait for a wave. We were in up to our shoulders at this point, and I was trying hard not to panic. The shore looked so far away, so I was grateful to have her there. “Scarlet ran to get her phone to video your big moment. The minute the wave starts coming toward us, start to paddle. The wave will catch you and pull you to shore. Got it?”

  “Got it,” I said, and not a minute too soon, because I could feel the water pulling backward and the wave beginning to form behind us. It looked HUGE.