Chapter 3

Note: There's some news that is good and bad in of itself. I've been reading things about how authors write, and Stephenie Meyer suggests to forget about writing in chronological order. I took her advice, and it's working pretty well. This is a little unlucky for you guys, because that means I won't get the chronological chapters written as fast. However, when we reach the parts I've already written, those will go fast. So hold on tight! Here's Chapter 3 for you:

My understanding of time is all off. Why is it that when you can’t wait another minute longer for something, that’s when time is against you, and it crawls by. Yet when you’re dreading something, and dreading it hard, you blink, and you’re there.
The worst by far, though, is when what you are dreading is right before what you’re looking forward to. The part you’re dreading comes quickly, and then drags along slowly just because you can’t wait for the thing afterwards. Why must time be so biased?
These were my contemplations as I sat in homeroom the next morning. Of course I was dreading history, which was coming like a train barreling down the tracks. Study hall seemed like the lifesaver I needed. Just one period away I would tell Ellis that I’d asked Chris about the backstage offer, and that he’d wanted to go. It was the stupidest reason to be excited, but I couldn’t help it. I liked talking to Ellis. It wasn’t uncomfortable, not like when someone tries to force them self on you. That thought reminded me of Blondie. The only bad part about the concert was him. Maybe if I dreaded it just enough, time would consider that and fast forward for me.
Brriinngg! Darn, I thought, now it’s history. I didn’t want to see the older man with the bad comb over, and I didn’t feel like learning about Christopher Columbus for the eleventh time. I wondered how thick they thoughts our heads were.
Shortly after we walked in, he assigned us book work to “test our performance skills”, so I took out a piece of lined paper. I knew I probably couldn’t concentrate, so I debated about getting started. Of the two classes I’d had with Ellis yesterday, study hall had been my favorite. Then there was lunch with him, too. For the record, I’d barely noticed him there, but the small talk about our summer with the few acquaintances I sat with bored me. Naturally, I looked in front me, and sure enough there was the scarred neck sitting a few tables in front of mine.
I was starting to feel like Cassie now, but I felt the warmth of a fondness towards him coming on. It wasn’t quite like a crush, just a liking towards him.
The minutes dragged on, seemingly endless, of course. When the bell finally rang, I was all ready to go. I’d packed up my things minutes before the time when I knew it would ring because of my impractical restlessness. I sauntered casually down the hall, my head down. I stared at all the different kinds of shoes my peers wore, until I reached my destination. I figured I wouldn’t talk to him the whole period, like last time, and I would have to start the history assignment sooner than I liked.
I didn’t have to scan the room for him this time because he was sitting on top of a desk facing me, and it was simple to spot him. He was sitting a good distance away from me, directly under a tall window that let the sunshine pour into the room.
It only occurred to me now that he might not come over to talk to me, especially since there wasn’t a pile of books beside me like there had been last time. Unfortunately, my guess turned out to be correct because I was stuck doing the assigned book work for the rest of the period. Occasionally I’d glance to my right, hoping to catch a glimpse of something, anything more interesting than what I was busy doing. Ellis had now taken his seat, busily reading. A girl behind him was casually staring into space, as it seemed, but as I looked closer she was actually staring intently at Ellis’s scarred neck. I couldn’t see her expression, but I knew if I was sitting where she was, I’d probably stare too.
As disappointing as the period had been, I didn’t want it to end particularly soon. If I had wasted all my other time to finish my homework, I could atone for it now by finishing it in study hall.
The bell rang in its own time, releasing me to Algebra II. The teacher there was friendly and explained the concepts well, but math wasn’t that exciting to me. It was in a strange place in the schedule, too. It was too late to be tired, but too early to eat lunch, though I was hungry already.
I missed my old schedule from the previous year quite a bit. Right about now, Cassie and I would take some food from our lockers and try to eat it as quickly as possible before we got to class. She’d make me laugh all the way through class, making me forget my hunger pains most of the time. If she were here right now, she’d probably be asking if I had pretzels tucked away somewhere because she would have forgotten them on her own. She was a forgetful sort of person.
The air whooshing by me from the rush of students stampeding down the hall stopped for a minute, and in a split second Ellis came from behind me, matching my walk.
“Hello!”
“Hi.” He came up so sudden, I didn’t have time to prepare my answer. I sounded like I didn’t want him to be there in a way, but how I felt was the complete opposite of that.
“So did you decide about Friday night?” He didn’t seem to notice my harsh tone.
“Yeah, my brother said he’d really like to go. He was wondering if we could take you up on the offer to go backstage.” I said this a little sheepishly. I felt like I was inviting myself.
“Awesome. Um, since we’re not really official we don’t have lanyards or anything to get you in, so I’ll probably have to write you a note and sign it. They should accept that.”
My head started to swim. I wasn’t so great with security people. They intimidated me, as was their job, and I would hate to argue with one about getting in a venue. I tried to hold my panic in as I answered “Okay. Is there a certain time you want us to be there?”
His eyebrows crinkled as he thought. “Five should be good, if that’s okay. I mean, the show starts at seven, but the doors open at six. You want to get there before the rush comes.”
“Five is good. I’ll tell Chris.”
“Oh, okay. See ya!” He turned into his class as swiftly as he had come. I shook my head. It was like magic how he came and went.
At lunchtime, Ellis came over to my table for a minute to hand me his note and the show tickets. He bent over, set his elbow on the table and said “Be there at five. There’s the address if you need it, and the note and signature for security.” When he left, the girls at my table looked at me wide-eyed. They started gossiping about Ellis and other boys, but I lost interest quickly. I studied Ellis’s handwriting. It was jagged and narrow, but completely legible. His signature was a different story, though. It was curvy and looped, but still narrow. You could barely make out his name. I worried the guards wouldn’t accept it.
Friday night came quickly. Time was in my favor on this one, but perhaps that was because I was so worried about being able to get in without difficulty. Chris and I drove together in silence, both of us deep in our thoughts.
The small arena was quiet as we walked towards it. I clutched the tickets and note Ellis had written in my hand, nervously wondering if they’d let us in without backstage passes. He’d said he’d tell them to expect us, but I was fidgety nonetheless. A security worker stared at us as we walked up to him. I handed him the tickets and note, but he didn’t seem to see the note.
“It’s only five, and the doors open at six. Can’t get in yet.”
Chris spoke up. “A guy in the band told us we could come backstage. He wrote a note on that paper. He signed it, too.”
He grumbled something and took out his walkie-talkie. “Hey, Ron, is anyone expecting someone?”
The voice on the other end said yes.
“Is it possible to get them up here to check them out?”
“Yeah. I’ll tell him.”
“He’s coming,” the security guy told us. He continued to stare at us with his arms crossed until Ellis came out the door behind him, looking great in a forest green long sleeved thermal shirt.
“Hey guys!” He turned to the guard. “They’re with me.”
The guard moved away to let us through. Ellis guided us through a complicated maze through the building to the backstage area, just hallways with cement walls and a few rooms with a few old couches and signed pictures of bands that’d played there.
“Wow. This is backstage?” Chris asked.
“Yeah,” Ellis answered. “Not much, huh?” We turned the corner, and the first door to the right had a single piece of paper taped to it. It merely said ‘DB Room’.
“This is it.” He opened the door, and Blondie and the drummer were there. Blondie was sitting on a brown couch drinking an energy drink and laughing with the drummer, who had a blue headband tied around his head this time.
“Hey, look who it is!” Blondie stood when he spotted me. The drummer waved from where he was seated.
“Did I ever formally introduce you to them?” Ellis asked me.
“Nope.”
“Oh. Well, this is Dave,” he placed a hand on Blondie’s shoulder. “That’s Steve,” he pointed to the drummer. “And the other one is Damon. Where is he, anyway?”
“Getting chips,” Steve answered from his place.
“Oh.”
“We told him not to get ruffles, right?” Blondie, er, Dave said.
“No ruffles. I don’t get that, though. They’re good,” Steve argued.
“Uh, let’s get out of here,” Ellis smiled sheepishly. “I’ll show you around.” He closed the door behind us. “What do you wanna see?”
“What about the stage?” Chris asked.
“Sure. It’s just right up here.” He took us to a small stairwell and led us up it. It came out to the big stage. All of the instruments and equipment were set up already, so I mainly paid attention to the view from stage. It was daunting, simply rows and rows of plastic blue seats. The rows turned themselves into sections, and I counted three of them just on the floor. The slanted upper portion had hundreds of the same blue seats. I imagined people occupying every single one, all their pairs of eyes focused on the stage where the entertainment was. I looked back at Ellis.
“You’re not nervous?” I asked.
He laughed. “Of course I am. It’s bigger than what I imagined. There are a lot of people expecting a good show tonight, though, and they wouldn’t come if they didn’t like us. We’ve got quite a fan base out of this competition.”
“How many are you expecting?”
“They won’t fill the whole thing, but probably a nice sized portion of the floor seats will be full.”
“Where will we be?” Chris wondered.
“Right down there.” He pointed to the section to our right. “Third row.”
“Sweet.” Chris said absentmindedly. “So do you have any crazy girl fans yet?”
“They’re not crazy, yet. They go as far as homemade t-shirts, but that’s about it.”
“Well, dude, if you ever make it big, call me up sometime.”
I elbowed Chris in the side.
“Ow!” He glared at me out of the corner of his eye.
“Well, sorry guys, but it’s time for the sound check. You can wait backstage or sit in the audience.”
Chris wanted to watch, so I stayed with him. It took about ten minutes to get them all up on stage, and the kid with pimples was back from shopping. Blondie lifted his chin in my direction (at least I thought it was me. It could’ve been Chris, but I highly doubt that considering his behavior at Frisco.) when he got settled, cradling his guitar in that familiar position on his stool.
They sang my favorite song of theirs again, but I didn’t enjoy it all that much because Blondie was staring at me half of the time. The other half he was either looking into the empty seats or fixing something around him, like his microphone stand or his shirt.
When the song ended, a security guy announced that it was about six, and the doors were opening. We all cleared out of the outer stage area pretty fast, and the band went to get changed. Chris and I were sent with our tickets to get our seats for the show. Once we got there, we didn’t have much to do, so we sat in our seats waiting for it to start. In front of us, there were three girls talking about December Breath. They looked about middle school age.
“So did you guys watch them throughout the whole competition?” One asked her friends. She had a high blonde ponytail bobbing behind her head.
“Yeah. They were my favorite from the beginning.” The one sitting in the middle of the three answered.
“I didn’t, but they’re hot, so I don’t care!” The third exclaimed. They were definitely in middle school.
“Whose your favorite?” The middle one asked. “Mine’s Dave.”
“I like them all, but Dave plays the guitar the best,” the blonde answered.
“I like that bass player. And the drummer. Okay, yeah, I like them all, too.”
I snickered to myself. If they knew I’d been backstage with the band, they’d probably shake me until I gave them every detail. So much for not having obsessed fans.
Then the lights dimmed, and people started cheering a little. The opening chords of a song I’d never heard before rang out, and the stage lights flashed. Steve the drummer was working hard to produce a ringing beat, and the kid with acne played a catchy guitar riff. When I noticed Blondie (aka Dave), he didn’t have his stool anymore and was standing up. He clutched the stand in one hand and the actual microphone in the other, singing into it with force. The crowd really got into it, singing or screaming every lyric and jumping around. I wasn’t sitting anymore, either, and neither was Chris. We were just standing there, and Chris was slightly bobbing his head to the beat. It was always times like this when I wished I knew the words to the song so I could at least attempt to sing along.
Ellis was in the right hand corner with his classic black bass, but he had changed into a red and white flannel shirt, long sleeves of course. He was singing the harmony again, and like the last time, I found myself more fascinated with it than the melody. With every new song that I didn’t know, I’d focus my concentration on his harmony, and try to pick out his voice from the others.
Finally they toned it down a bit, and Blondie said the same words as he had at Frisco before they did my favorite song. I recognized the opening music, it matched my song. A little nervous, I waited to see if Blondie could pick me out of the crowd to wink or something. I saw him scan the crowd, but he didn’t see me. He focused on another girl, and winked at her instead. She probably appreciated it a lot more than I would have.
The harmony of the chorus was my favorite out of all the harmonies I’d heard so far. It had caught my attention back at work, and it caught it now. I couldn’t get over how beautiful it all was, though it was simple. Their voices were intertwined perfectly, and the soft guitar in the background just added to the dynamic.
Then, abruptly, the song was over. It always ended too quickly. I watched as Ellis turned back to grab his bass, which he had laid aside for that song. Blondie announced that they had one more song for us, but I wasn’t exactly listening. I was too busy remembering the previous song. It’s happy melody and the haunting harmony was what had grabbed me again.
When the very last song was over, Chris urged me to hurry and get out of the arena before the big rush of people overwhelmed us. I wished we could go backstage again and bid the band goodnight, but I knew that was impossible. Even with the note, it would be impossible to get through security.
I surprised myself with these thoughts. I knew who I really wanted to say farewell to, and that scared me a little. With as much of myself as I could gather at that moment, I tried to push him out of my mind.