firecracker // rodrick heffley

CHAPTER TWO

Rodrick began the month of October at approximately half past noon. No complaints on his end- band rehearsal didn't start until 2:00, so he had left himself with plenty of time to put on his own band's t-shirt and carefully apply eyeliner around his dark, tired eyes. As he walked to the garage from his attic bedroom, the untied laces of his worn black converse swung from the height of his ankles. 

He heard the sound of tires screeching in front of his house, and opened the garage door to let Chris and Ben inside. He watched, through the fog, the silhouettes of his two best friends pulling equipment from the trunk of the car. 

"...and the homeless man laughs and says, 'Now tell me how old I am!'" Ben grabbed an amp from the car.

"Ew, dude," Chris set down his guitar case to slam the trunk shut. 

"Are you gonna lock your car?" Ben asked, puzzled. 

"The locks stopped working, dude."

"No shit?"

Chris laughed. "I thought I told you."

"Hurry up," Rodrick called from the garage. 

The boys scurried in, closing the garage door behind them. A screech filled the room as they plugged in Ben's guitar and Chris's bass to the amps. A small smile formed on Rodrick's face - he loved the sound of the raw beginning of a rehearsal.

"Let's start with Explöded Diper," started Rodrick, "with enough practice, it'll win us the talent show." Tapping his drumsticks together, he counted off the song. "One, two, three, four!"

You told us we were losers
And we can't do nothin' right
You said we'd never make it
But just look at us tonight...

They ended the song with a flourish - Ben hit one last chord, Chris let the last note on his bass ring out, and Rodrick hit the cymbals and let his drumsticks fall to the ground. Through his heavy breaths, Rodrick suggested, "Should we take a snack break?"

"Glad you suggested it," Chris began to take his bass off his shoulder.

"On second thought..." 

-

"No! Not West! This can't be happening." Ben stood up from the couch, exasperated.

"Ashley, what were you thinking?" Rodrick wondered aloud.

"Do you guys ever wonder if other kids our age watch The Bachelorette with their friends?" Chris laid his head on the back of the sofa, his eyebrows coming together in a pensive expression.

"Not really," Rodrick tossed a pretzel into his mouth and jokingly questioned, "do you usually wonder about whether you're conforming, Chris?" 

"That was such an intense rose ceremony," Chris added.

-

The boys began to load equipment back into Chris's car. The fog had started to clear. Rodrick hefted both amps into the trunk and slid his cold hands into his pockets as his gaze traveled across the street. He squinted into the light of the bedroom of the neighbors' house. He could make out a shadow of the neighbor girl and the configuration of her wild hair. What was her name? Sylvia? Rodrick knew she was in his chemistry class, but not much more than that. For a split second, he could have sworn she was looking back down at him.

"See you guys," Rodrick half-jogged back into his house and ran up two flights of stairs to his bedroom. He lay awake in bed for a while. He thought about the talent show a few weeks away. Löded Diper's rehearsal that day had productive after their The Bachelorette viewing, and Rodrick was feeling better every day about their song choice. Explöded Diper was a solid track in his eyes. Rodrick knew his band had potential, but he had a hard time learning how to access that potential, especially in his bandmates.