Ginger beer

Fast forward and Play.

Chapter 4:

Most normal people can ignore a bad idea when it pops up into their head. Summer unfortunately doesn't qualify for that normal person's category.

"We need a vocalist, electric keyboard player and guitarist, sir." Summer's voice echoed through Mr. Apple's classroom.

The whole orchestra is obviously enjoying it every time we enter his class. It's like we are putting on a free sitcom before they have to start practicing.

"Hey! can we come for auditions to your 'band'. I hear your music will be 'rocking' your grandmother to sleep."
The one guy joked around with his deep and unattractive voice.

"1970's called, they want their music back." The first team football player remarked.

I felt bad. Not for us, but for them.
They don't even know how we sound yet they think we can't be great because we are two tiny little girls that seem like we don't have any talent?
Ha! I am not another stereotype brunette and Summer's not another stereotypical blonde with airheads and cute pink matching outfits.
We are different to most of the others but who cares? Our moms think that we are cool.

Summer shoots them a smile and from this angle that I'm looking from it seems to me like she is actually enjoying all the attention she's receiving. How could I ever understand how that girl's brain is working?
But I like that smile though. It's usually the one where her enemies end up like dogs liking their wounds after attacking a cat. Which, by the way, would be something worth smiling at.

But the worst part for me still is, she finds it so easy to ignore even the most fierce facial expression there is.

I want to prove these cheeseball heads that they are wrong but I don't get why she's asking Mr. Apple for members to join our band. I do not want these criticising jerkwards to join us. They'll only try to doom us.

I just wish there was some kind of telepathic message I could send her saying that she's totally lost her mind.

Mr. Apple smiles.

"So have you held auditions for your band yet?" he asks as if he wanted to stand still on this subject and let them insult us further.

Summer shakes her head from side to side.

"No sir we-"

Mr. Apple interrupts her,

"The storage room next to mine is smaller than a normal class but can still be used for auditions if you really want to take this seriously. You can come and fetch the key from me anytime you want to, just make sure to notify my of the times you'll be using the room. I have a life too. Now if you'll excuse me I have a lesson I need to teach now." Mr. Apple turns around and continues searching for his music files.

I don't know if I should thank him or chuckle myself to death, cause he ain't got no life outside of school.
But I just vaguely smiled and was just about to leave when Summer had another brilliant idea.

Yes. I was sarcastic.

I stopped dead in my tracks and listened to her.

"What about Thursday afternoon after school sir?" She raises her voice.

Mr. Apple turns around and for some reason I could not explain if his face was expressing happiness or furry.

"I'm sure it won't be a problem young ladies. See you two Thursday then." And with that he waved us off and continued to search for his files.

Summer seems to be very impressed with herself and what she has done.

The orchestra erupted with mummers before Summer came to a standstill in the doorway once again.

"So now all of you heard. Auditions will be held Thursday afternoon next door. Spread the word and don't be late!" Summer called out over her shoulder.

It's ironic how the late comer tells the other's not to be late.

She gave me a wink and at that moment I didn't know if I wanted to strangle her with my bear hands or hug her so tightly that her lungs collapse.

I just hope that this wasn't our flight taking off to destination disaster preparing for a crash landing in front of the entire school.

-

Dear sticky notes book, to self,

Music classes can be one of thee most dangerous places on earth.