Boring Girls

“Sounds good,” Socks said, turning off the main road onto a tree-lined side street. “I’m pretty intuitive. I’ll be able to come up with some beats once we start jamming.”


No one was home at Socks’s house, and we filed through the side door down into his basement. The ceiling was low, and we walked through the rec room to a smaller darker area. He flipped on the light switch in this smaller room, illuminating a giant drum kit.

“Wow, double kick!” Fern said, gesturing at his two kick drums. “You can play that?”

“I consider it to be a necessity when you’re playing metal,” he said, smiling. “So you want me to just rock out for a bit? Give you guys a show?”

“Sure,” Edgar said.

Socks sat down behind the kit and began to play.

And it was pretty much decided immediately that we wanted him in the band. Any hesitations I had about him being a bit dorky went out the window. He was really, really good. Exactly what we needed. The band was finally coming together. He played complicated fills, pulled back and played steady rhythms, sped up to the point where his hands were a blur across the kit, and all without missing a beat.

After he quit, we hung out on the couches in the rec room and chatted some more. “My parents won’t care if we want to rehearse down here on the weekends,” Socks said. “I got my van, so we can pick up your stuff and move it all in down here.”

“Sounds good.” Fern nodded.

“Oh, by the way, the band got a name?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Colostomy Hag.”

Socks threw back his head and laughed. “That’s good.”


xXx

The sun was setting when we left Socks’s place, and since Edgar and Fern lived farther out than I did, I was the last one to be dropped off and ended up by myself with Socks in the van.

“I’m super stoked to hear you sing, I gotta say,” he said. “I’m glad you guys gave me a call. You’re all real nice people.”

“Yeah, hopefully this works out,” I replied. “You’re a great drummer. I’m excited to rehearse.”

“It’ll work out. Of course it will. We just gotta jam a bit and see. Get some songs going, play some gigs.” Socks turned onto my street, and I saw Mom kneeling in the front yard wearing her floppy brimmed straw hat. I pointed at the house. “That’s my place.”

“Is that your mom? Awesome!” He smoothly moved the van directly in front of the house, and Mom looked up from her pile of weeds. Her eyes widened as she saw Socks waving frantically at her. To my horror, as I climbed out of the passenger side, he hopped out of the van and extended his hand to my mother.

“Hi, I’m Socks!” he announced.

Immediately my mother’s eyes flicked down to his legs, and she nodded vaguely, as if verifying the nickname. She then took off one of her garden gloves and shook his hand, glancing at me. “I’m Rachel’s mother, Marilyn,” she said.

“Nice to meet ya. I can’t wait to hear Rachel sing,” he said. “I’m gonna be the drummer in the band if everything works out.”

Mom looked at me, and I smiled, lifting my shoulders. “It was nice to meet you today, Socks,” I said, hoping to get rid of him.

“Oh, you too, Rachel,” he said, shaking my hand as well. “I’ll see you next week. Colostomy Hag . . . what a name! Looking forward to it!”

I stood next to my mother as we watched him climb back in the van and pull away, waving at us happily through the window.

“Rachel?” she said.

“Let’s go inside and talk about it,” I said.





SIXTEEN


They sat across the table from me as if I was at a job interview. My father had no idea what had happened, so Mom filled him in.

“I guess Rachel is starting a band,” she said.

He looked at me, and I nodded. “Just for fun. With a few friends. Fern and Edgar, and we just met the drummer today.”

“Socks,” Mom supplied. “They’re called . . . Colostomy Hag.”

A loud chuckle erupted from my father, and Mom was grinning too, even though I knew they were both trying hard to be stern and serious. I smiled, and then we all laughed.

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