Casey Barnes Eponymous (13 page)

“Hold on a
minute,” Casey said, “How’d your mom know enough about Arcade Fire to know that
Eva, despite owning
three
vinyl
Stevie Wonder albums and everything the Beta Band has ever put out is still a
touch long in the teeth--”

Leigh gave
her a dirty look.
 
Casey realized
she had gotten too far off topic.
 

“Leigh!”
Leigh’s mom called from upstairs.
 

Leigh
jumped down from the dryer.
 
“I
better go.”
 

“Well what
do you want me to do?”
 

Leigh
shook her head.
 
“I just needed
moral support.
 
I didn’t think she’d
be tracking my inter-house movement so closely.”

“It’ll be
okay.
 
Look I’m sure your parents
once got busted with a roach clip too.”
  

Leigh
sighed.
 
“Not once.
 
That’s the whole problem.”
 

Casey
frowned.
 
Unfortunately she knew
Leigh’s parents well enough to know that that was probably true.
 
“Don’t worry,” she said.
 
Leigh’s mom called again from
upstairs.
 
“I’ll see you tomorrow,”
Casey added.
 

The weird
thing, though, was that she wouldn’t.

18

Leigh not
showing up for school the following day may not have been the most
extraordinary thing for some kids.
 
But for Leigh it hands down was.
 
Leigh had the attendance record of a miniature carton of milk.
 
She
never
missed
school.

Casey was
at her locker mulling over what had gone down in Leigh’s household the night
before to have caused this deviation from the natural order when something even
more shocking happened: She heard Alex Deal’s voice behind her.
 

“Hey.”
  

Casey
turned, froze for a moment, and then spoke.
 
“Vincent?”
 

“You
didn’t tell me you had a band.”

She
blinked.
 
“I…?”
 

“You guys
are auditioning for talent show?”

She felt
dizzy.
 
She did not sign them up for
talent show auditions.
 
It must have
been Ben or Sukh.
 
But still, even
if that was her original intention, the first band rehearsal did not fill her
with confidence.
 
“Um.”
 

He stared.
 
Alex Deal was interested in her
again!
 
He wanted to know about her
band.
 
Yull was wrong.
 
Alex Deal and Casey’s bands would play,
no
headline,
talent show together and
become even better than a super couple.
 
They would join the ranks of Marianne Faithfull and Mick Jagger.
 
Damon Alburn and Justine Fishman.
 
Kurt Cobain and (pre-siliconization)
Courtney Love.
 
They would become a
super
rock
couple.
 

“Yes, we’re
trying out for talent show.”
 

“Interesting”
he said, “You know they’re only letting a few bands in this year, don’t you?”
 

She attempted
to look tough.
 
“Yeah.”

“Alex,” a
nastily familiar female voice called out.
 
Casey grit her teeth and looked in the direction from whence the
interruption had come.
 
Her fear was
confirmed.
 
Maxine French was
standing there.
 

“Good
luck,” Alex said.
 
He turned and
walked away.
 
There was something in
the way he uttered his last two words that gave her the impression “rock super
couple” was not quite topping his to-do list that week.
 
As she watched him with Maxine French
she got a nauseous feeling.
 
Why was
it that when boys found out girls had other boys it made them try harder, but
when girls found out boys had other girls they wanted to die?
 

Suddenly
she saw Sukh at the other end of the hall.
 
She slammed her locker shut and ran towards him.
 
“Sukh!”

Sukh
smiled.
 
“Why hello Casey.
 
How are you today?”
 

“You
signed us up for talent show auditions!?
 
I don’t quite think we’re ready.”

Sukh’s
smile vanished.
 
“What is this,
Casey?
 
I did not do such a
thing.
 
Oh no, after yesterday there
is no way I would, I mean your songs were very nice.
 
But I think we need more practice before…have
we really been signed up to audition for talent show?”

“So it
wasn’t you, then?”

“No!”

She waited
at the door to Spanish class.
 
When
she saw Ben coming she ran up to him.
 
“Did you sign us up for talent show auditions?”
 

“Yes,” he
replied without breaking stride.

“Why
didn’t you ask us first?”
 
They
reached the classroom door.
 
Ben
kept right on going and headed to his seat.
 
Casey had no choice but to follow.

“That was
why you started a band, wasn’t it?” he asked.
 

“Yeah, but
I didn’t exactly think we were ready after yesterday’s rehearsal.”

He
shrugged.
 
“Yesterday’s rehearsal
went well.
 
We came up with some
cool stuff.”

“About
Beowulf
!
 
And
anyway those were Elvis songs, not ours.”

“Doesn’t
matter.
 
We were starting to sound
good by the end of rehearsal.”

The bell
rang.
 
Señor Griffin asked the class
to settle down and answer the questions on the board.
 
Casey considered.
 
The fact was that they didn’t sound half
bad when they were doing the
Beowulf
songs.
 
“Are we going to audition
for talent show with the
Beowulf
as
Elvis songs?”

“Por
favor, Casey,” Señor Griffin said.
 
She
scribbled out a note.
 
We can’t play the Beowulf as Elvis songs at talent show!
 

Ben
responded.
 
Who says we
can’t?
 
It’d still be a hell of a
lot more interesting than your friend’s masturbatory efforts.
 
Casey considered for a
moment, and then wrote back.
 
I do generally laud the use of dirty SAT words but keep in mind that
singers/songwriters are by default the BOSS.
 
Thus ONE, Watch your language.
 
And further pursuant to that thought, as
BOSS I
 
(and this is TWO btw) must
be CONSULTED prior to the moment DRUMMERS (NOT SINGER/ SONGWRITER/ GUITAR
PLAYER) sign us up for talent show auditions.
 
We don’t even have a name yet.

At the
front of the room, Señor Griffin plugged his CD player in and produced a CD
from his binder.
 
There was a
collective groan from the class.
 
Señor Griffin had a CD of songs en español that were so slow and easy to
understand they could have doubled as pre-school tunes.
 
When he played them, el Señor attempted
to engage the class in sing-alongs.
 

Ben passed
the note back.
 
Firing
drummers for insubordination is, as I’m sure you know, a longstanding part of
the rock tradition.
 
You are free to
take that route. And I know we have no name.
 
Most bands don’t, when they first start
out.
 
And about us not quite ready
to audition for talent show--the fact is that we’re closer than the front woman
might think.
 
SOMEONE just needs to
get over her stage fright.
 
Her
songs weren’t half bad.
 
PS I’m sure
Lars Ulrich has signed Metallica up for a talent show audition or two.

“Vamos!”
Señor Griffin urged the class to sing.
 

Point taken,
Casey wrote,
But it seemed like you
were more into Beowulf as Elvis than our ‘band.’
 
Señor Griffin stopped the CD player and
started admonishing the class for not singing along.
 
I wasn’t,
Ben
wrote.
 

El Señor took
a pop quiz out of his bag and laid it on his desk with a bang.
 
When he next pressed play everyone
sang.
 
Except Casey, who was busy
writing her response.
 
Griffin’s going to need to learn to follow up on threats if he plans on
getting anywhere in life.
 
She
passed it up.
 

“¡Canta, Casey!”
Señor Griffin called out.
 

As are we all,
Ben wrote back.
Today let’s
rehearse at my place, with real drums.
 
Will sound better.

By a twist
of fate and biological circumstance, Yull ended up giving them a ride to Ben’s
house.
 
He was standing by the front
door of the school when classes ended for the day.
 
Casey and Sukh walked together from
English and met Ben in the front hall.
 
The three of them were heading towards the school bus lines when they
bumped into Yull.
 

“Hey,” he
said to Casey.
 
He then looked at
Ben and Sukh expectantly as if waiting for an introduction.
 

“These are
my friends,” Casey mumbled.
 

“Bandmates,
Casey,” Sukh said.
 

“Excuse
me?” Yull asked.

Casey
groaned.
 
“Yes, brother.
 
I started a band.
 
If you’ll excuse us we have rehearsing
to do.”
 

“Ah ha,”
Yull said, “Someone told me you’d signed up to audition for talent show but I
wasn’t sure what…”
 
Casey made a
face.
 
Was there no information safe
from the eyes and ears of the Yull empire?
 
“Anyway good for you,” he continued,
 
“Need a lift home?”

Casey
paused but then decided that what separated good rock stars from bad ones was
knowing when not to kick a gift horse in the mouth.
 
“No.
 
But we could use a ride to Ben’s house.”

She
commandeered Yull to stop at Leigh’s house on the way to Ben’s.
 
Her suggestion provoked a myriad of
questions on the part of bandmates and chauffeur.
 

“Why can’t
you just call her?” Yull asked.
 

“I’ve been
texting her all day.
 
I think they
took away her phone.”
 

“For going
to an Arcade Fire concert?” Ben said.
 

“Well
there was something else attached to the ticket.”

Yull
stopped the car outside her house.
 
“What?”

“A roach
clip.”
 

“A
what?”
Yull said.
 

“That’ll
do it,” Ben said.

“Why’d she
take a roach clip into her house?” Yull asked.
 

“What is a
roach clip?” Sukh asked.