That night I could barely sleep because I was so angry. I don’t even really know who or what I was angry at. The whole situation, and everyone in it, I guess. Angry at the band for not understanding I had a different job than they did. At Edgar, who always seemed like he was going to be contrary with me, no matter if it was getting pissed that I made fun of the Heathenistic Bile guys, or if I insisted that singing was different from playing bass. I was angry at Fern too, for no good reason, and Socks as well, even if it was just for being so damn cheerful all the time. I was angry with my parents for suggesting I get a summer job. I felt very disconnected from them — they were a blur to me. And I was definitely angry that I had to go back into that stupid room again and do the rest of the songs. I have never liked going into the studio. There is a hollowness and dishonesty to the whole thing.
Ironically, even though my voice was still wrecked, the next day with Ken went pretty smoothly. I did my best to sound good and get through it all. No one was there except me and him, and he faithfully did not look at me during the whole thing, and we finished off the rest of the songs within a few hours. I was relieved when it was over.
“So let Socks know I will upload all these files to his server within the next few days,” Ken said when we had finished. “If you guys need some help mixing the tracks, I’m happy to give a hand.”
“I’ll tell him,” I said, leaning back on the couch. Now that we were finished, I was completely exhausted. “Thanks for doing this for us.”
“It’s not a problem.” He smiled at me. “You guys are actually pretty awesome. I think this CD is going to be amazing. You’re going to release it on your own?”
“Once we save up enough money to get them printed,” I said.
“Cool.” He nodded, and paused for a second. “I hope you don’t take offence to this, but I think people are going to be pretty impressed that you’re a girl, and that your guitar player is a girl. The music is awesome.”
I prickled. “Is that because it doesn’t suck? You’re surprised that it doesn’t suck?”
“No, no, not like that,” he said. “It’s just that it seems like you guys are really committed to it. You have to admit that there aren’t a lot of girls in this whole thing, this kind of music. There isn’t much to compare it to, to even begin to make a lousy statement like ‘girls in metal suck.’ The only other female singer I can even think of is Annika, and you’re way better than her.”
“I guess.”
“She doesn’t suck. And your music, girls in the band or not, doesn’t suck. To be honest, I think you guys are going to actually be able to do something with it. You’re original. People are going to be interested.”
I nodded. I know all of this. “If they can get past the fact that we’re girls.”
“Fuck anybody who feels that way,” Ken said dismissively. “Use your band to show them how wrong they are.”
I know that too.
xXx
About a week later Socks called to say that he’d received the recorded tracks from Ken, and that everyone was going to get together at his place to start listening through them and choosing the best takes. I was excited about getting started on this, but my parents had to throw a wrench into everything.
“So you’re all finished with the music recording?” my father asked me that very night as we were having dinner.
“Yes.”
“Have you started looking for a part-time job?”
“Yes.” I was lying. “I’ve been looking on the internet.”
“Well, I have some good news for you,” Mom said. “A friend of mine owns a coffee shop downtown, and she’s looking for some extra help for the summer. I mentioned that you’re looking for work, and she said she’d be happy to hire you until school starts!”
Both of them beamed as if this was the best possible news, and I immediately matched their smiles. “That’s great, thank you for doing that for me,” I said. “But I would kinda prefer to find my own job. I’d feel bad if I messed up or something. I wouldn’t want your friend to get mad at you for suggesting me.”
“You won’t mess up. How could you mess up?” Mom said.
“You’re not supposed to mix business with friendship, right?” I said.
“You’ll take the job and do just fine,” my father said.
“You start tomorrow morning,” Mom trilled.