Drummer Girl (8 page)

“The point is...I'm watching you, Crowley. The whole band is. A lot of guys have been watching you this week, which just proves I'm right. You'll be trouble if you drum for us.” He shifted so his lips were beside her ear. “Who dropped you at school this morning?”

Sid got it. He was watching her very closely. But watching for what? She said, “My cousin.” She hated the way his nearness was starting to intimidate her.

“Not your girlfriend? Too bad. I said it would be better for you if you were gay.”

“Well I'm not. And I'm still a better drummer than Wes. Is it true he's getting a shot?”

Clem inclined his head.

“Will I?”

“Not if I have a say. And not if Wes works out.” He released her, stroking her thigh as she stepped past him. She shot him a dirty look. He grinned. “Want to hit me? Or do you want more?”

What was his game? “The only thing I want from you is the chance to play drums.”

Outside the counsellor's office, Sid kept her mind from her run-in with Clem by considering how she could corner Taylor at his house. She was pretty sure he worked at the garage tonight so wouldn't get home until nine o'clock. His mom didn't like visitors dropping by after that because he needed homework time. She had tried sending some instant messages, regular email, posting on his Facebook. He didn't respond to anything. Five minutes in his driveway was all she needed, just long enough to ask what was eating him. If Narain knew something, he wasn't talking. Ask Tay, was all he ever said.

Her fingers were tapping rapidly on the armrest when Mr. Brock opened the door and invited her in. Sid sprawled in her chair, then abruptly sat up and crossed her legs. Somehow sprawling didn't suit her new look. Her foot began to twitch.

Brock got comfortable and said nothing for a full two minutes. Sid could feel herself winding up, getting tighter. Twitchier.

Finally, Brock said, “You've been dressing differently this week. More...”

“Fashionable?”

Brock adjusted his glasses. “You don't look very comfortable.”

“I'm sitting in a shrink's office.”

“I'm a counsellor, not a shrink. So what brought on the change?”

Sid looked away.

“Okay. So let's say it's because of your run-in last week with Wes Remichuk. You're trying to...what? Fit in?”

“Is that a crime?”

“No, but you have to be true to yourself, Sidney. You look very nice but you also have to be comfortable. In your clothes, but more importantly, in your skin.” When Sid said nothing he continued, “I hear you had another clash with Wes.”

Sid was tired of the combined lecture and inquisition. She leaned forward a bit. “A clash? Is that what you call it? He grabbed my ass so I spilled my lunch tray on him.” She sat back, expecting to be called on her language.

Brock didn't blink. “So Mr. Franklin tells me. Do you think you handled that in the best way?”

“Have you ever had someone squeeze your ass?”

One corner of his mouth raised. “Point taken. In case you're wondering, Mr. Franklin did address the issue with Wes. I believe he received two noon-hour detentions.”

Sid almost swore. That would explain why she hadn't seen him in the cafeteria. Didn't Franklin realize he had made things worse? Her face must have revealed some of her thoughts because Brock said, “Maybe I need to have a session with you and Wes together.”

“No.” Sid jumped up. “Look. I have everything under control.” Or she did, until Franklin interfered. “I don't want your help. I don't want anyone's help.”

“Everyone needs help once in a while.”

“Sure. And if I need it, I'll ask for it.” Sid headed for the door.

Brock's chair squeaked. “We aren't done, Sidney.”

“Yes, we are. This was just a ‘touching base' session. Mission accomplished.” Sid made sure to close the door quietly on the way out.

13 |
syncopation

Sid had taken the coward's way out on Friday and had told her dad she had really bad cramps. Mention of her period always made him stutter. He'd been willing to phone the school and send Sid back to bed with a heat pad. As soon as he was gone, she had thrown on her cargoes and In Flames shirt and had spent the morning in the basement with her drums.

But there was no way to get out of Saturday. Sid was in middle of putting on her wedding costume and mask when she heard Devin arrive. The front door slammed. He shouted that he knew he was late and that he'd be dressed in a flash, but first he needed a shower.

More doors slammed. By the time Sid finished wriggling into the pantyhose that Heather had insisted she had to wear (to hide those hideously white legs), the shower was running and Devin was whistling behind the locked bathroom door. Sid banged on it and yelled, “Hey, Devin. We have to be out the door in half an hour.”

“Yeah, yeah,” came the muffled response.

With ten minutes to go, Sid was in the living room, more nervous than if she was walking down the aisle. She perched on the edge of her dad's recliner and smoothed the blue material of the dress. The tiny black polka dots felt like the material had goosebumps. A fringe of black crinoline showed along the hem of the dress and was echoed in the belt. The sweetheart neckline and spaghetti straps made Sid feel semi-naked. She had to force herself to not play with the necklace that dangled less than two centimetres above the neckline. Her toes tested the freedom of black sandals with unstoppable jiggling. They had a low heel, still more than Sid had wanted, and now she was wishing she'd done as Heather suggested and had walked around the house in them through the week.

James walked in from the kitchen, adjusting his tie. He stopped when he noticed Sid, his gaze flicking up and down. He smiled and nodded. They both heard Devin coming down the hall. Sid stood.

“I'm ready. I told you I'd be –” Devin halted by the front door and froze with his jacket half on. Ten seconds later he blinked. “Sid? Oh man, little sis, what did you do to yourself?”

Sid started to bite her bottom lip then remembered the stupid lip gloss. “It wasn't me. Heather gave me some fashion advice.”

“Wow. I'm not sure I'm ready for my little sister to look so...so womanly.” Devin finished putting on his navy suit jacket. “I'm not going to be able to enjoy myself now.”

Sid frowned. “Why not?”

“'Cuz I'll have to keep an eye on you.”

“Dad,” Sid said. “Are you going to let him tease me like that?”

“All he did was say what I was thinking.”

Sid huffed. She marched toward the door and almost wiped out when she stepped off the carpet. Devin caught her by the elbow. “Walk much?”

“Funny. Be thankful you're a guy and can wear comfy shoes.”

Their cousin, Mandi, was getting married at a posh hotel. The ballroom opened to a walled garden where the cere-
mony took place. It was a perfect day – Aunt Kathy would stand for nothing less – with Mandi looking like a fairy tale princess attended by fluttery ladies-in-waiting, one in blue, one in pink, and the last, Heather, in pale green.

By the time the late afternoon ceremony was over, Sid's shoes were pinching her feet. Devin escorted her into the ballroom where the reception was set to take place in an hour. While they waited, the wedding party had pictures taken in the courtyard with its array of potted tropical greenery.

Sid found a corner, slipped off her shoes and massaged each of her feet in turn. Most of the people milling around were either from Uncle Peter's family or were their friends and neighbours. Neither Devin nor James were intimidated by the room full of strangers and visited with whoever was closest. As usual, Devin managed to be closest to a group of young women. Sid admired the ease with which he talked to them, and got them laughing.

She sat back and stretched her legs out straight. Someone in a grey suit tripped over her feet, stumbled toward her, veering at the last second, and fell onto the chair beside her.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“No, it was my fault,” Sid replied as she tucked her unclad feet under her chair.

She glanced, expecting an old man, and found herself facing a guy about her own age. He had black curly hair and blue eyes. At least she thought they were blue – it was hard to tell with the way he was squinting. He might have looked like a model for a Greek statue except that his nose was a little long and his chin a little pointed. Actually, his face was a bit like a triangle topped by a black mop.

Sid realized she was staring and looked away as heat crawled across her cheeks. Then she realized he had been staring, too, so she looked back. What was a person supposed to say when she'd almost tripped a stranger? She held out her hand. “I'm Sid. Mandi's my cousin.”

The guy dropped his gaze, lightly touched her hand then withdrew. “I'm, ah, Brad. Ah, Brad Dmitri. Mandi is, ah, was my neighbour.”

“You used to live by Heather?”

“Still do. Mandi moved out about four years ago.”

“Oh, right.”

Brad continued to squint. Sid was starting to think she had a blob of mascara on her cheek or something. She excused herself, took two steps, came back for her shoes and carried them to the ladies' room. It was actually two rooms. The outer room had a sofa, a wing-backed chair and a wall of mirrors with chairs and vanities in front of them. And a chandelier. In the bathroom. Sid mouthed
wow,
and headed for the nearest vanity. An examination showed nothing obviously wrong so Sid moved to the sofa and stretched her legs out. Only when women started trickling in did she put her shoes back on.

A middle-aged woman entered and paused in the middle of the room. “Are you with the wedding in the Oak Leaf ballroom?” Sid nodded and the woman said, “People are starting to sit down for the dinner. You might want to get out there and find out where you're seated.”

Reluctantly, Sid went, then was glad she had because it took her five minutes to find the right table. A minute after she sat down, Devin and a young woman joined them.

Sid whispered, “Where's Dad?”

“He traded with me so Lydia could sit with us.”

Sid and Lydia exchanged unenthusiastic smiles. If Lydia worried about having to share Devin's attention, she didn't need to. He ignored Sid.
Why,
she wondered,
was I so excited about him coming home?
The other people at the table were older, friends of her aunt and uncle's. One of them knew James so Sid had to answer a few questions. Mostly, she picked at her food.

She spotted where the guy, Brad, was sitting, but even though he was looking toward her he didn't so much as nod. What did she expect from a neighbour of Heather's? She studied the room as speeches started, then wore on. And on.

The oak walls of the banquet room were a perfect background for the white linen table cloths and chandeliers which looked like they were about to release droplets of glass on the heads below. A trim of carved leaves marched around the edge of the ceiling – the oak leaves of the room's name, Sid assumed. The same trim accented the bar at the back of the room.

“A toast to the bride,” someone said.

Sid hadn't been listening but was sure this was the fourth such toast. It was the best part of the meal. She hoisted her glass of wine and took a sip. Maybe a bit more than a sip because her glass was almost empty. She topped it up, in case there were more toasts. A few of the older people at her table gave her amused glances. Devin cleared his throat and scowled at her. Finally, he paid attention, but only to disapprove. Sid stuck out her tongue at him and took another sip.

The master of ceremonies announced that the dance would start in thirty minutes. Sid raised her glass. “I'll toast to that.” The man at the microphone paused. Had she said it loud enough for him to hear? He raised his glass and smiled at Sid. “Right. Time to party, folks.” Laughter filled the room.

Devin took Sid's glass away. “I think you've had enough.”

“Enough? Didn't you hear the man? It's time to party, big brother.” Sid smiled broadly. She felt warm and relaxed and Devin was not going to ruin that.

“Go get some fresh air, Sid.” He pointed to the courtyard.

“Fine.” Sid stood. The first step was a bit of a wobble, but only because of her stupid heels. She raised her chin and wove through the tables to the open French doors.
Walk slow,
she told herself. Just like learning a new drumming groove; you've got to go slow before you can pick up the pace.

Even the night was made to order. Warm enough to go sleeveless, a few stars visible above the haze of lights. Sid twirled as she looked up at them. Her ankle wibbled. She staggered sideways. A man about James's age caught her and steered her toward a stone bench. “Better sit, missy, and let your head clear a bit.”

Sid snorted. She was fine. It was the stupid sandals that were the problem.

Inside, a band tuned up. Of course Aunt Kathy would have a live band. Apparently they'd been set up behind some curtains that Sid had thought were just a backdrop for the head table.

Heather flopped onto the bench beside Sid. “God, I'm so glad that's over. Weren't those speeches brutal?”

“Guess so. I wasn't paying attention.”

Heather laughed. “I noticed you gawking around. But at least you looked good doing it.”

“Thanks to you.” Sid tilted her head. “Where's your guy?”

“Mom didn't know who to seat him with, so he begged out of the meal. He'll be here any minute. He made big mileage with Mom by saving her that hassle, though I don't know why she didn't seat him with you.” A smile lit her face. “There he is. Finally I can have some fun.”

Heather walked swiftly across the courtyard, her stiletto heels clacking on the stone. How did she walk on such high heels without breaking her ankle?

Sid stayed where she was until the music started and everyone was herded inside to watch the bride and groom dance their first dance. They swept around the floor like they'd taken lessons. Which they probably had. Aunt Kathy didn't leave things to chance.

The bridal party joined in, then the parents of the bride and groom. On the second song, all sorts of people drifted onto the dance floor. Sid hovered by the French doors and listened. The drummer kept it tame. He looked bored.
Bet he wants to rip loose with a solo.

Someone bumped into Sid. Grey suit, black curls. He turned. “Sorry.”

“S'okay. At least it was actually your fault this time.”

He squinted, then smiled. “Oh, right. Cousin to the bride. Ah...”

“Sid. Actually it's Sidney but only teachers and Heather call me that. And you're Brad.”

“Yeah. Not good with names. Sorry.”

“Are you going to apologize every other time you open your mouth? It's fine.” Sid glanced at the dance floor where a slow song was ending. She wished Brad would move on. She couldn't think of anything to say. But he didn't. He shuffled his feet a little, like he was testing to see how slippery the floor was. The next song started.
Uptown Girl.
An oldie, but the song suited Mandi perfectly. Sid's heel clicked against the floor in time to the cheerful beat.

Brad shuffled his feet some more. His squint deepened. “Would you, ah... I'm not very good but... If you'd like...”

Sid narrowed her eyes. “The word is dance, Brad. Would you like to
dance?”

“Would you?”

“Sure.”

They walked out on the floor. Brad was a little spastic. She could see him counting the beat under his breath. She tried to get into the music but her ankles kept threatening collapse. Twice she bumped into people. Then Brad bumped into someone. What was he doing, making fun of her?

As soon as the dance ended, Sid made a beeline toward the French doors. Brad caught up to her. “I...was hoping we could dance more than one.”

Sid planted her hands on her hips. “Were you mocking me?”

“Mock? Ah no. I'm just...not a good dancer. But it was fun. Wasn't it?” His blue eyes were in shadow and he looked vaguely forlorn. A lost puppy look if she'd ever seen one.

Sid released an impatient breath. “Fine. We can dance another. But I can't move in these stupid shoes so you'd better not have a problem with me ditching them.”

“No.” He blushed a deep red and pulled glasses from his inside pocket. “If you don't mind me wearing these at least I won't bump into anyone.”

“You wear glasses?”

“Every day.”

“Why not tonight?”

He shrugged. “My little sister told me I look better without them on, but then assured me that black frames are...nerdy chic, I think she said. I'm pretty sure she was mocking me.”

“Well, little sisters are pains. I should know. I am one.”

Brad smiled and put on his glasses. Square, heavy and black. Sid giggled. He said, “What?”