And besides, Fern and I had enough to look forward to with DED coming.
As the day of the concert drew nearer, we laid out our plans. Of course we were going to try to meet the band. Fern had already packed up a few of our CDs to give them, even though Edgar worried that we shouldn’t be giving them away. He was right, we needed every cent of the money, but this was a good opportunity.
“Maybe they’ve heard of us already after the whole puking thing,” Fern said.
Maybe. I didn’t want to get ahead of ourselves, but the night before the show as I gazed at my outfit in the mirror, I definitely felt like Fern and I were going into this as more than fans. It was the same vibe I’d tried to inspire when we’d met Marie-Lise, but this time with more experience. We’d toured! Kind of. Surely that put us up on the same level as DED. I shook my head, laughing at my own stupidity.
I thought my outfit looked great, black and blue striped knee socks and a black skirt and top. I’d match the light blue in the socks with the same shade of eyeshadow, which I thought would look very striking. My eyes moved from my reflection in the mirror up to my poster of Balthazar Seizure.
“Tomorrow,” I said.
xXx
Our plan was pretty lame. We were going to take the same early bus to St. Charles, exactly the way we had done for Gurgol. The difference was that last time, Socks and Edgar had met us at the show and we’d all driven back in the van. This time, we’d purchased return tickets in hopes that the show would end in time for us to catch the last bus back to Keeleford. If we missed that bus, well, we’d just have to figure something out. Nice, right? See? Another damn sign. I don’t know what the hell we were thinking.
But at the time, it just seemed like details. We’d work it all out later. The important thing was getting to St. Charles and trying to meet DED.
I sat in the window seat with Fern beside me. “Fern, have you ever had a boyfriend?”
“Yeah. Last year. That guy Steve, remember?”
“Oh, right.” I remembered Fern talking to me on the phone about him. At the time I had been disinterested in the whole thing and had barely paid attention when she’d talked about him. “That was for a few months, right?”
“Yeah, like three months.” She rolled her eyes. “He was a jerk.”
“Right.” I’d never met the guy, but I recalled something about him dumping her for some other girl. “He was a jerk.”
“Guys are a waste of time,” she said firmly, settling back in her seat. “I don’t want to think about that stuff.”
“I’ve never had a boyfriend,” I said.
“You’re just saving yourself a lot of grief.” She smiled. “What about that Jamie guy, from Torn Bowel? He liked you, didn’t he?”
I was surprised. I guess I hadn’t imagined that. “Not really. I think he did for a few minutes for, like, one day. But then after that first show, I think it went away.”
“Maybe he was grossed out after you puked.”
“I don’t even care. I don’t want a boyfriend,” I said, lifting my chin. “I have other things to think about.”
“I feel the same way. But you know what, after you meet Balthazar Seizure, and he falls madly in love with you . . . you might change your mind.” She reached over and dug her finger into my ribs, grinning.
“Oh, right!”
xXx
Fern and I got off at the station in St. Charles. The DED show was at a place called Terminal 66. As we had last time, we got into a taxi and had the driver take us there. It was across town from the bus station, and traffic in the city was annoying, so the cab ended up costing us more than we’d planned. But finally we pulled up in front of the big building — much bigger than Gurgol’s gig — and climbed out of the cab.