This Song Is (Not) for You Read Free Page B

time.”
    “I know. But that’s what he said. Let’s just play.”
    I tap out a starting tempo and Sam plugs in his amp.
    • • •
    If it wasn’t for Sam and the band, I would have gone crazy years ago.
    I’ve made it clear that high school is an abysmal den of idiocy, right?
    The summer before my freshman year, they filmed some scenes for a horror movie on our campus. The movie was about Catholic schoolgirls who conjure up a demon. Bloody hijinks ensue. Dad took me to the set on the day that they were filming a chase scene down the long hallway in the English department. They had all these screens up so that it would look like night, and this twentysomething woman ran down the shadowy hall in a really short plaid skirt. And everybody acted like this was really important stuff that they were doing, like her fake screams actually mattered.
    It turned out that real high school was about the same: a little bit dark and scary, but mostly just stupid, with fake emotions and everybody taking it all way too seriously.
    And I really do have to wear a plaid skirt.
    Part of the way through sophomore year, I started wearing Sam’s extra blue tie to classes, and there was a big fuss about it. I won that one because the school board got scared that I would come out of the closet as a something or other and they would get sued for discrimination. And then all the other girls started wearing their boyfriend’s ties like it was this cool, rebellious thing to do, but they never got called to the principal’s office for it.
    I don’t wear ties to school anymore. Tom’s ex-girlfriend, Sara Miller, doesn’t either. She’s not the type to go for pseudo-rebellion. She’s more of the actually-fits-in-without-trying type, the rare sort of person who genuinely likes what’s popular and never gets annoyed when other people like the same stuff. She’s nice, I guess. She’s always pushing some kind of charity through school government, so that’s cool.
    Anyway.
    Tom looks uncomfortable when he finally shows up to band practice. I’m sitting behind Griselda when he comes in with Sam’s mom. Sam’s mom is weird. She brings us ginger-glazed edamame, which means she’s still in her ethnic food phase. Hippie Sam’s mom brought us homemade hummus-and-vegetable platters. When she was artsy Sam’s mom, she ignored us and played opera really loud.
    “Your friend Tom is here,” she says.
    “Thanks, Mom,” Sam says. He takes the tray from her, and she flashes a smile at all of us before leaving.
    “So, hey,” I say.
    “Hey,” Tom says. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other and sets the giant amp he’s carrying down on the floor. “I like your kit. Glitter is underrated.” I knew he would appreciate Griselda. The guy has the most hideous and wonderful car I’ve ever seen.
    “What’s that?” I point at the thing in his left hand, this black box with buttons. Tom mumbles something that sounds like “chaos maker” and I say, “Oh cool.” Sam turns his back to us and sets the edamame down on the built-in workbench that no one has ever used.
    “Is there a place I can plug this in?” Tom says. Sam shows Tom the surge protector his own amp is plugged into. Tom kneels down and starts to get set up. Sam and I meet eyes. He’s still doubtful.
    “So, Tom,” I say, “what were you thinking we should do?”

Sam
    Tom was plugging in what looked like a set of guitar pedals without a guitar. He looked up at Ramona and then at me.
    “You know that video you guys posted last week?” he said. “I came up with something that I think would sound cool with that, if you wanna mess around with it.”
    I shrugged.
    “Sure,” Ramona said. She played a drumroll and I headed over to my guitar and put it back on. I turned my back to them and strummed the high E string. Behind me I heard Ramona start to swing into the song’s tempo.
    I try as hard as I can to not watch Ramona when she’s playing. I mean, it’s not possible to