Simple As A Song (School of Rock)

nine - standing in the dark

AS I SETTLE DOWN on my bed, I check the door. It's closed tightly, and I pray that Tomika or her family doesn't come in here. I don't mind sharing with my mom that I'm in a band with Riley, but I don't want Tomika to know. She didn't tell me about the band she is in, so she doesn't get to know about the band I'm in. 

A bad feeling settles in my stomach. I look at the door again, hearing Tomika's laughter reverberate around the house. She's my cousin; I shouldn't be rude to her and be a hypocrite. Even if we have our differences, I know we will always be best friends. If she asks, I'll tell her what I'm doing, but if she doesn't, I can keep it to myself. 

Letting out a sigh, I pull out my computer from my backpack. Quickly opening it, I unlock it and pull up the document I made of the most recent lyrics I wrote out. I shared it with Riley an hour ago, but she didn't have time to facetime me until right now. My heart hammers against my chest as I stare at the strange words on the screen, wondering why I shared them with her. I know that we're in a band and we need lyrics, but these are personal. Mom hasn't even looked at them, and that's saying something. 

I nearly scream when my phone rings. Anxiety courses through my veins when I see Riley's name lit up on the screen. She's waiting for me to answer, but I'm frozen in place. Things are moving too quickly for me, and maybe this is a sign that I shouldn't be in this band. I've never had any interest in it until I learned that Tomika was in a secret band, so do I really want to do this? Deep down, I know that I love writing songs, but I don't know about singing, especially in front of people. 

My fingers move on their own and answer the call. Riley's face takes up the entirety of the screen, and I frown. "Hello?" I say uncertainly. 

"Hi," she says. A soft sound comes through, and it sounds like she's shuffling papers. "You'll get a better view of me in a second. I'm rearranging the lyrics you wrote."

"You printed them out?"

"Of course." She flashes the papers in front of the screen, and another scream nearly leaves my lips. What if she loses them? What if her brothers find them and read my personal lyrics? What if -- "Don't worry, I'll keep them locked up in my room," she says quickly. She must have seen my trepidation. "I just like physical copies, that's all."

"If you're sure," I say, hoping my voice doesn't shake. Riley grins at me, but that doesn't soothe my racing heart. "Anyway, what kind of music do you want our band to have? I like ballads, but I'm not sure if that's something you particularly like . . ."

She nods enthusiastically. "I love ballads. There's something about the heartwrenching feelings that get to me." Riley sighs happily. "We can have other songs as well, though I don't know how to play any instrument besides the classical guitar."

"Even country music?" I ask excitedly. She gives me a weird look, and I close my mouth for a second. We live in Texas, so it's normal to hear country music nearly everywhere I go, but it seems like the vast majority of people despise country music. I can't help but love it with all its quirks. "Okay, I guess that's a solo thing."

"You do you, Harlow," Riley says, making me laugh. Then, her face turns sour. "Ugh, Zack is practicing his guitar. It's so loud!" She stands up, and my view of her shifts. She slams her fists against the wall, scaring me. "Zack, turn it down!"

"Can he hear you over the guitar?" I say, but I don't know if she can hear me over the loud guitar, which I can hear over the phone. "He's really good."

"I don't think he's playing that guitar," she says, sitting back down. "He's probably practicing his other, electric guitar for the school band." Riley rolls her eyes. "They're a rock band if you couldn't tell."