Renny Boy

What. A. Week.

Right after Friday’s carnival, I had a pounding headache and took a few Aspirin. Dad was concerned and asked me if I had consumed alcohol at the fair but I gave him a weird look, and he backed off. Tsh. Yeah. I had a beer. My headache was totally brought on by a hangover. Call me cranky, but when he asked me if I did, I almost called him an idiot.

Other than that, I didn’t feel much different. I was still freaking out. Only this time, it wasn’t about turning thirteen.

It was about that freaking talent show.

I had joked with the others about how nervous I was, how I was going to puke all over the stage. Truth is, no joke could ease the butterflies that seemed to mutate and grow bigger every day. I’d been scared before when presenting a class project, but that was only in front of like twenty-five kids.

Try that, times about fifty.

It wasn’t even a comparison to those monster-butterflies I had before the show. Then I thought about running away without an explanation, but then I thought, nah, too confusing.

This was my future that was about to be unveiled. Totally rock the talent show, and this could skyrocket me to fame. But what were the odds of that happening? I was freaked out just to sing in front of my school. If I got famous, the number of people would multiply by a million, meaning that those butterflies would take steroids and mutate in size.

But I couldn’t not perform. Luke, Soria, and Brendan were depending on me. They were my friends. I could never let them down, since really, they were the only true friends I’ve ever had. I’d just be throwing them away.

So that week, I was scared, nervous, and sleepless.

The others were preparing rapidly for it. We were all in a dilemma over which song we were gonna play, since we decided on no covers. Soria was busy recovering all the songs she’d written from that beast she called her desk, even though she’d already almost recovered from her broken wrist. All she had to wear was a brace, and she could move her fingers more freely then.

She said she was glad she fell out of that tree, because if she hadn’t, we’d probably be called something else. Not Plaster Caster.

Well, one thing that we…er, I lagged on was my guitar skills. Or, lack of guitar skills, I should say. I thought I caught on quick, but that was only because Soria was only teaching me basic chords. When I got to more complex stuff (scales, power chords) then it all just went downhill.

She’d just shrugged and said she would blame any possible failures on me. That was the spirit.

My stage moves were stale, as Brendan put it. Unfortunately, I had to agree - I only sang, stood, and strummed. He said I was a robot. Dunno exactly what that meant, but it couldn’t have been a compliment if Soria chuckled and Luke scorned.

So they taught me to shake my hips and go “loosey goosey.” I went “loosey goosey” (I swear, I’ve heard that in a movie before), whatever the crap that really meant, but the hips shaking only made me feel extremely uncomfortable. I guess it was just the shyness in me, but I didn’t feel real shaking my tail.

So, back to the whole “I-Was-Freaked-Out-About-the-Talent-Show” thing. Here’s the thing - I was freaked out about the talent show, even ages before the night of it.

But when the Claymore Middle Talent Show came around after countless sleepless nights, I couldn’t have been less prepared.

Compared to my first chorus concert and the New Year’s party, this was Godzilla. About twice the people as the former, and twice the chance of me screwing up now.

I was peeking out from behind the curtain every few minutes or so, trying desperately to look for my parents, who I hadn’t found yet. It figures. Mom was probably talking to a complete stranger and my dad was probably checking out the speakers and sound systems.

I checked the time - 6:53. The show was starting in seven minutes, everyone’s parents and friends were in the crowd, and Plaster Caster was warming up backstage.

We were ready with our song picked out: “Anonymous,” the song that had strengthened me and Soria’s friendship. It was the song that caused us to swear off our secrecy. What was funny was how I always kept it a secret just how pants-peeing scared I was.

A group of eighth graders walked past me, all holding instruments. One girl had green bangs and dyed black hair, one dude had two different colored eyes, and the other dude had a baseball cap turned sideways. They smiled at me and the girl held out her hand. “Good luck,” she said, and I shook her hand. They walked to the stage and started setting up, their band being the opening act. Okay, good. More time to be scared.

I stood behind the curtain, quietly freaking out. My face had turned completely red and my palms were drenched in sweat, regardless of all the chills going up my spine. This was it. This would separate the brave from the cowardly. Either get up there and kick butt, or go home and lose everything.

The choice was obvious, but easier said than done.

I just couldn’t get it through my head that this was actually happening. I was about to sing in front of five hundred people. My peers. People who I’d have to deal with for the rest of my school days. People who would never let me live it down if I screwed up.

Why did I have to take notice of Soria’s stupid shirt seven months ago?! Why did I have to take a leap and actually talk to her?! Why in God’s green earth did I have to get myself into this mess?! Why did she have to become my best friend and get it all started?!

Oh crap. What song’re we doing?!

Anonymous! Oh…phew. For a second there - - oh God, how does it go?! Wait – wait – oh. I’m good.

I couldn’t stop staring at the crowd. Just imagine them in their underwear, I told myself. But whenever I did that, I only imagined myself in my underwear. Talk about stupid.

My throat was too dry for me to speak. And even if I could, I’d only stammer to hell and back.

When a hand clasped my shoulder and made me leap off the floor in surprise, I felt like my memory had been wiped out. I just lost control of everything for a moment.

“S-Soria,” I gasped.

“Where have you been? We’ve been looking everywhere!” she scolded, still holding my shoulder. When she noticed how red I’d become, she furrowed her brow. “What’s up with you?” And the way she held onto me, the way she pierced my soul with those eyes, I couldn’t keep my fear a secret any longer.

“I…I…I c-can’t do th-this. I can’t do this.”

I shook my head and breathed unsteadily, like we were running out of air. Soria raised her eyebrows, grabbing my other shoulder like she was going to shake me until my head was on straight.
“Yes. You. Can.”

I heard the words but they didn’t do anything to help me. In one ear, out the other. She stared at me straight, and I clearly saw into her sapphire gaze, desperately wanting to help me.

“I-I-I can’t s-sing. I c-c-can’t do it…I c-can’t--”

Soria smacked the crap out of me.

I’m serious – one second, I was stuttering like a moron, and the next, all I could feel was a brilliant flash of sharp stinging pain across my right cheek.

When the flash ended, all I could really do was stare at her with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. She didn’t look phased. In fact, she looked kinda arrogant.

“Soria…that didn’t c-calm me d-down…at all...”

I could feel my cheeks turn beet-red when she grinned at me. “Get a hold of yourself, idiot!” she yelled. “You’re not gonna be alone up there. We’re gonna be there too.” She squeezed my hand. “Look, I know you’re nervous! But you’ve got the best singing voice I’ve ever heard! This is your chance to prove everyone wrong and show ‘em what you’re made of. This is your moment. This is your time to shine. And we’ll always be here to back you up. I know you’re nervous, but you gotta realize that we’re gonna be up there too! You know Brendan’s practically doing backflips back there?! We’re all a little freaked out!”

I never forgot the words she said.

Just like the song at the carnival - and nothing else matters when I turn it up loud.

She was so right. It was my time to shine.