I thought it was cute, how grown-up she was trying to appear. At least I did until she told me I looked like a granny right before we stepped onstage, when it was too late to do anything about it. I wore a baggy T-shirt, billowy palazzo pants, and my favorite Dr. Scholl’s slide sandals. Given what Sheriff Nillson had just said about us not wanting to draw the wrong kind of attention, her comment became funny—ironic, not ha-ha—because at one point, I’d proposed we change the band name from the Girls to the Grannies. We could part our hair down the center, wear round glasses and shapeless dresses, and we wouldn’t have to worry much at all about how we looked, only our music. Brenda and Maureen had vetoed that so quick they nearly turned back time.
“Really proud of you girls,” my dad said, echoing Sheriff Nillson.
Brenda, who had looked away from the sheriff, smiled politely at my dad. Maureen was staring out over the crowd. Who was she expecting? I tapped the drum pedal, a light whomp you could only hear onstage. It was rude that she was ignoring my dad.
She glanced over. I could see her profile, blinking like she was waking up from a nap. She grinned. “Thanks,” she said in the general direction of my dad and Sheriff Nillson before turning to fiddle with the dials on her amplifier.
“You don’t mind if I come up onstage and introduce you, do you?” the sheriff asked, directing the question toward me.
Flustered, I glanced over at Brenda. She appeared a little green all of a sudden. This was really going to happen. “Everyone ready?” she asked.
Maureen nodded, her face glowing. Junie was shaking so much that the tambourine she held was playing itself. Seeing how scared she was gave me a surge of confidence.
“You ready, J-Bug?” I called out, tossing her a wink.
She nodded but didn’t open her mouth. I suspected I’d hear her teeth chattering if she did.
“We’re good,” I said to Brenda, shooting her a reassuring smile.
Brenda grinned fiercely at Sheriff Nillson. “Introduce us.”
He hopped onto the stage.
CHAPTER 13
“That was insane,” Claude crowed. “You guys have never sounded better.”
I nodded, still dazed. He was right. We’d started off a little clunky, like we were playing three different songs. Some dude booed. But by the second tune, people who weren’t even there for the music left the midway and started flocking toward the stage, toting stuffed animals they’d won, nibbling at sticky cotton candy.
By our third song, they were dancing.
Dancing.
People we weren’t even related to.
That’s when Maureen yelled Valhalla!, and we shared an exultant, secret smile over our instruments because we were in it, entirely inside the music together against the world, flying and falling, making magic.
I could have played all night, but it was over almost before it began.
Sheriff Nillson jumped back onstage, grabbed Maureen’s arm, whispered something in her ear, and then huffed to the microphone.
“Let’s give it up for Pantown’s own the Girls!”
The applause felt like it was injected straight into my veins.
Johnny Holm’s roadies began scurrying across the stage, adjusting and moving stuff, high-fiving us before they stored Maureen’s and Brenda’s instruments in a corner so we could enjoy the fair. We floated on clouds to the backstage area. Claude plus Ed, Ricky, and Ant were waiting. Maureen rushed straight into Ed’s arms. Even that couldn’t get me down. I was soaring too high.
“What’d you think, Ed?” Maureen asked. “Did you like how I sounded?”
“Sure,” Ed said, his lips pushed out in a way I bet he thought looked cool. He was extra-Fonzie-looking tonight in his white T-shirt and jeans, his black, oiled hair reflecting the stadium lights. His boots had heels, tall ones that must have added an inch and a half to his height.
“I don’t believe I’ve met this one,” he said, pivoting Maureen so he could get a full gander at Junie, flushed and glowing from the set. “What’s your name, pretty girl?”
“Junie,” she squeaked, tugging on her cherry-colored top.
Ed crushed his pop can and tossed it off to the side before yanking a pack of Camels from the inside of the leather jacket he held over his shoulder. He flicked out a cigarette just like they do in the movies. He held it in his teeth as he lit it. He was putting on a show for us, that much was clear, but why were we all watching it?
Cigarette glowing, he took a deep drag and then released it. He winked at Junie through a haze of smoke. “You look just like my first girlfriend, you know that?”