The other thing I realized was that Brandi had come into the bathroom and hadn’t actually gone. Presumably she’d come in here to pee. Of course, how could she calmly go into a stall to use the toilet in front of me after I’d completely terrified her? I pictured her, with my hand gripping her hair, peeing herself in her stupid designer jeans, and I laughed loudly and sharply. It echoed in the tiled room, and I clapped my hand over my mouth to stifle the sound. I caught the reek of her hairspray on my hand, and my stomach turned, jerking me from my happy thoughts. I turned on the faucet, pumping soap from the dispenser into my palm and scrubbing my hands ferociously under the water.
I should probably note that this was the inspiration for our song “Piss Your Pants,” the lyrics of which I began to write that very day when I went back to class.
xXx
If Brandi told anyone about what had happened, nothing ever came of it. Whenever I’d see her in the halls, she’d avoid my eyes and hurry past. I imagined that she’d kept her mouth shut about it, too embarrassed to tell anyone that I, the ugliest bitch at school, had won against her. I treasured that memory the same way I treasured the memory of the asshole at the Surgical Carnage show. It was like I had some secret knowledge that no one else knew about. I was above the rest. I only had a year and a half left at this stupid school, but in my mind I was already done with it. I knew I was going somewhere very special, and Brandi and Josephine and every nameless asshole I passed in the hall were irrelevant to my future. And in my head I challenged every one of them, daring them to mess with me. I felt unstoppable. A nice feeling, while it lasted.
NINETEEN
I was loading my books into my locker after school when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see Craig standing behind me.
We hadn’t become close or particularly friendly. He still hung out with Fern and Edgar, but I didn’t join in — especially since I had no desire to drink, and that’s what they’d often do on Saturday nights after practice. I would always opt to go home afterwards, and it wasn’t just because of my aversion to drinking and my antisocial feelings about being around strangers. After practice I was usually on such a high that I wanted to be by myself to go through my lyrics and think about how rehearsal had gone.
Craig still made me feel slightly uncomfortable. Even though we’d hung out at the concert last year and now acknowledged each other at school, I couldn’t fully erase the humiliation of that moment when I’d asked him about his shirt and he’d shot me down. I hated the fact that I’d had a crush on him and he had rejected me. I harboured a strong dislike for him, even though in an odd way his approval was important to me. I don’t know. I guess my feelings about Craig were very mixed, and avoiding him was the best way to avoid thinking about him.
But there he was at my locker. I was annoyed that I did still have a reaction to him. He was attractive. But just because I thought he was a tiny bit cute didn’t mean I wouldn’t be able to eventually find someone else who I actually liked. Because I knew Craig was an asshole.
“How are you doing?” I said.
“I’m good,” he said. “How’s everything going with the band?”
“Awesome,” I said. “We’re sounding great.”
“Yeah, Edgar played me one of your recordings last week.” He grinned. “You sound amazing, I have to say. I was surprised, hearing you sing like that.”
“Thanks,” I said, lifting my chin slightly.
“What I wanted to ask you was, do you guys want to play a show?”
“We’ve sort of talked about it.”
“Okay, because I know a few guys who have a band. They were thinking of doing a show. Just a small one, you know, in St. Charles. They’re looking for a band to play with, you know, to make a night of it.”
I paused thoughtfully. “Well, I could ask the guys.”
“Yeah, I was going to call Fern and Edgar about it tonight. But I wanted to talk to you about it also.”
“What’s their band called?”
“Heathenistic Bile,” he replied. “They’re okay. I haven’t seen them play before. They’re from St. Charles, I think they’ve played a few shows. But they’re really small. I have a demo CD, I could bring it tomorrow if you want to hear it.”
“Sure,” I agreed. “I’ll check it out. Talk about it with the others.”