Before reading this story, I would like to point out that this work is a collaboration between two authors: myself and fellow FictionPress writer SailorJane. The two of us worked together in a perfect partnership, I taking the odd-numbered chapters, and she taking the even. We even divided the characters between us, and would go over the other's chapters to make sure those characters stayed true to how they were supposed to be. But I would be remise if I did not mention that this story, the concept, and many of the themes presented in Pop Rocks are solely SailorJane's creations. So if you enjoy this story, place head over to SailorJane's FictionPress page and send her your love... and also check out her solo-work Fiona Five.
by Sailor Jane and Glee-chan
Johnny Depp wasn't doing it for her anymore. She didn't know why, but her go-to fantasy wasn't helping her out like it used to. Groaning a frustrated moan, C.J. laid in bed with her left hand down her pajama pants, trying in vain to satisfy the sexual itch she had been feeling for a few days now. Maybe it was because she felt rushed, as it was early in the morning and she knew she had to start getting ready for the first day of 11th grade, but C.J. couldn't finish. Hell she couldn't even start. Still she rubbed herself while keeping her eyes staring at the digital clock on the nightstand. Why couldn't she just orgasm already and just be done with it?
There was a knock on her bedroom door. Quickly C.J. pulled her hand out of her bottoms when the door cracked open. Peaking in, it was her father. "Christina, are you moving?"
"Y-Yeah." C.J. stammered. Her voice sounded a bit sleepy, to her relief. She didn't want her father to know that her heart was slamming hard on her chest from nearly getting caught.
"Hurry it up, I have to be in the office early this morning." And with that he shut the door.
C.J., or Christina Jane Wright, exhaled a heavy sigh and rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand. That was too close. She had been watching the clock and everything, yet her father almost caught her doing something dirty. Still, her lower body was humming, wanting it's itch to be scratched. She just didn't have the time. Glaring a frustrated eye at her movie poster of The Brave, which featured Johnny Depp in an Indian costume, C.J. blamed the actor for not doing his job. It was his fault she couldn't get turned on anymore.
Pulling herself up, C.J. resigned to her fate of being unfulfilled until that night, and started her morning routine. In a way it was a good thing that her father has pushed her to move along earlier than she wanted, as she needed to style her long blonde hair. It was a natural color, but she colored it anyway to that it was more vivid. It was slightly layered, but she wasn't sporting the full Rachel look that so many girls were still doing, even if it wasn't 1995 anymore. Her hair was too long for that anyway.
As for clothes, C.J. was stuck wearing the St. Rose High School's uniform. For girls it was a sky blue plaid skirt, with a navy blue jumper, white blouse, with matching navy blue ties and knee-high socks. Boys had a similar look, only their trousers weren't plaid and sported a tan color. It was annoying to C.J., as she had a full closet of cute clothes that her schoolmates would rarely see.
After finishing up her make-up, C.J. walked across her room, lightly strumming her red acoustic guitar by the door. Before leaving, she noticed she hadn't changed her calendar page. She pulled it up to reveal the new month:
After gazing at the new Kitten picture on the calendar, she bounded down the stairs and joined her father at the kitchen bar. He was reading the financial section while ignoring the toast he made for himself. There was a small plate with a Pop-Tart on it sitting next to him, which was supposed to be for C.J. This was his parenting. She knew he didn't mean it, but he really was terrible at the whole single father thing.
"What time does school let out?" Her father asked, as C.J. bit into the luke-warm pastry.
"Hmm." Her father grunted. C.J. knew what that meant. He was displeased at that. "I can't leave the office until 5:00."
C.J. already knew this. She knew he was reminding her that he couldn't pick her up right away. "I'll just be at the park until then. I can… uh… do some homework while I wait."
Her father nodded, ignoring the fact that on the first day of school it was highly unlikely that C.J. would be getting homework. To him the matter was settled. C.J. looked at him with a small pout, wishing she could complain about having to wait so long when she knew her father's hours were flexible. He could leave work for a few minutes, pick her up, and return and make up the time by staying 20 minutes later. But he wouldn't. That just wasn't the type of man he was. If her mother was still alive she would have made a fuss, but now the two of them were in a limbo of not talking to each other.
After finishing her nutritious breakfast, C.J. put her Nokia Cell Phone in her near empty backpack, and followed her father to the car. It was a 98 Lexus GS300, a car he had bought recently because his boss liked his right hand men to drive Lexus'. It was a macho thing that C.J. didn't get. The drive to St. Rose was as quiet as her breakfast, except for the Sting cassette tapes her father listened to endlessly. When he pulled up to the front of the school, her father gave C.J. an awkward stiff kiss on the cheek and looked at the door, indicating for her to leave.
"See you later, Daddy." C.J. raised a small smile towards him. Even if their relationship was awkward, she still wanted him to be happy.
"Have a good day, Christina." He replied gruffly.
So C.J. exited the vehicle, and watched her father drive off without a second thought. She stood there, feeling a bit hollow for a few moments, then mentally shook her melancholy. Now that she was at school, she couldn't appear to be less than perfect. She had an image to maintain. Swallowing the frustrations and the sadness away, C.J. headed inside and went directly for the cafeteria. Students weren't allowed to mingle anywhere else in the morning before Homeroom, so she found the spot she usually sat during her 10th grade year and sat down.
It wasn't long when her classmate, Camilla Geriletti, came running up to her. As usual, her asian shadow Amy Lynn followed her. Camilla plopped herself down at the table, while Amy just stood quietly nearby, as if she didn't have permission to sit. C.J. looked from the shy girl to Camilla who was pulling her long brunette hair into a pony-tail.
"Did you talk to your Dad yet? Did you get one?" Camilla asked.
What the brunette was referring to was an electric bass guitar. The previous year C.J. met Camilla after a school performance of Grease, which featured C.J. as the leading lady, Sandy. It was a musical, one the drama teacher made her do for a grade, and apparently Camilla liked what she heard. She went on and on about every audience member giving a thunderous standing ovation in the middle of C.J.'s performance of "Hopelessly Devoted to You." Ever since then she had decided on her own that C.J. was going to join her band, which at the time only consisted of herself and Amy. Camilla was a drummer, Amy was a guitar player, and they wanted C.J. to be the vocalist. She had told them no on several occasions, but for whatever reason Camilla didn't take no for an answer. Over the summer, they had gotten together to practice, though without any real direction. Camilla had been adding bass playing duties to C.J.'s list. C.J. didn't even know how to play.
"My Dad… he said he won't buy me one." C.J. admitted truthfully. The truth of the matter was she was relieved when he said that. She had asked him in a half-assed way and he said that if she was just doing this because she was bored, he wasn't going to buy a bass for her.
"That sucks." Camilla gave a frown. "We got that event on Friday, we need to be ready. Oh well, you can use one of Amy's."
"Hmm?" Amy looked at Camilla then at C.J. "Oh, uh… well…"
It was plain to see that Amy did not like lending out her instruments. Even if Camilla pretended not to notice, Amy knew that C.J. was being roped into this whole girl band thing. C.J. didn't want to be a Spice Girl like Camilla did.
"C'mon Amy, don't be so stingy. You have three of them, don't you?"
"Two." Amy corrected in her usual soft voice. "One was my grandfather's."
"Then give her the other one."
"But that's brand new…" Amy complained.
"Hey, we need a bass player," Camilla pressed. She had big eyes. Even if they were a dark brown, they were very lovely. She was used to getting what she wanted by batting them, and she was doing that now. Amy was struggling to stand her ground.
"She can borrow the new one." Amy gave in, and turned to C.J. "It's in the band room right now, I can give it to you at Lunch. Just… Just be careful with it!"
"I will, I promise." C.J. felt an added pressure now. She would have hated giving up something precious like that. "I still don't know how to play."
"It's just a bass, it's not that hard." Camilla was back to form. Even if Camilla was saying that, Amy wasn't looking as confident as her friend. "You already know how to play guitar, and bass is only four strings."
"But it's much bigger," C.J. wanted to find any excuse to get out it.
"Amy will show you the song today, and you can practice after school."
"Great." C.J. spoke in an unenthusiastic voice.
"You'll be fine." Camilla tried reassuring C.J., taking a bit of pity on her for once. "Amy's a pretty good teacher. Of course, she learned it all from me."
With that she smiled big and raised her hands. As the previous year, they were always gloved. C.J. wondered why. The white gloves she wore might have looked like a posh rich girl thing, but it probably was something she did for practical use. Camilla was always rubbing her hands when she didn't think anyone was looking. C.J. looked at the gloves for a moment, then realized that Camilla was reaching into her skirt pocket and pulling out another set.
"What's that for?" C.J. asked.
"It's our thing." Camilla beamed, then gestured to Amy.
Only now did C.J. notice that she had roped her friend into wearing white gloves as well. Amy looked embarrassed, but once again wasn't protesting anything her domineering friend told her to do. And C.J. didn't either. Camilla was such a big personality it was hard to deny her. It was those eyes. She sucked people in. It didn't hurt that she was a gorgeous olive skinned beauty. When she handed C.J. her own gloves, C.J. took them and begrudgingly placed them on. She felt ridiculous, but couldn't help but feel a bit pleased when Camilla grinned at her.
"Yes! We look so cool now!"
"Not really." Amy rightly muttered, but was ignored.
"Oh hush." Camilla danced a little as she stood up.
The bell rang, and everyone else stood up as well. Homeroom was going to start in a few minutes, so everyone started slowly shuffling their way to their lockers. No one had any books yet, but they could still put away their backpacks. Once out of sight of Camilla, C.J. took off the gloves and stuffed them into her pocket.
When she entered homeroom, she plopped down next to a pimply faced African-American guy named Richard. They had a small back-and-forth friendship from the previous year, even if they only had this one class together. He was pleased to see her and grinned when she turned around to talk to him.
"Have a nice summer, C.J.?"
That was code for "no." She spent most of the time in her room avoiding her father, or else on the phone with Camilla who had decided that they were friends after the play. She missed her old school and friends from 9th grade. She missed her mother.
Richard continued: "I worked with my Uncle most of the summer. I wanted a car, but my Dad wouldn't buy one for me. He said that he had to work to get his, so I had to work to get mine. Well back in his day cars only costed a nickel. Ugh."
"Did you ever save up enough to buy a car?" C.J. asked, not really interested, but wanted to be friendly.
"Nope. My Uncle bought me one though. It's a 89 Camaro. It's a piece of junk, but my piece of junk."
"Cool." C.J. wished she could be more excited for Richard.
"Speaking of cars, I saw a girl drive up in a moped this morning. She looked-" But he stopped talking and looked behind C.J. She turned to see what he was looking at. She saw a girl walk into the room wearing headphones, looking around at the desks that weren't taken, sizing up which she should sit at. "-well she looked like that." Richard finished.
The girl was in the school uniform, but she still had leather driving gloves on and a leather jacket over her jumper. She also wasn't wearing the school loafers, but laced up combat boots. She was pretty skinny and pale, which made her dyed black hair stand out all the more. She also had dark make-up around her eyes. This rocker chick was definitely in violation of the school dress code.
"She's hot." Richard nudged C.J. and whispered. "What I wouldn't give-"
"Shhh!" C.J. blushed, not wanting the new girl to hear him talk like that. But the truth of the matter was, she had to agree with him, The new girl was hot. If C.J. wasn't mistaken, she would have guessed that the punk-rock student was a little bit older, perhaps held back a year. She definitely could have been mistaken for a Senior, or even a college student.
Richard wasn't the only one watching the new arrival. Nearly everyone else was as well. If the new girl had noticed this, she was ignoring it. She found an open seat that was in the row next to C.J., but just a bit in front of her, and sat down. She sat in a most unlady like way; spreading her legs open and leaning her head back with little to know care if she might be flashing what was under her skirt. The music coming from her headphones was loud enough that people could hear it. It was some sort of heavy rock music. C.J. watched the back of the head of the girl for a moment, then turned around and stopped Richard from drooling.
"A Camero, huh?"
"What?" Richard blinked. "What now?"
C.J. giggled a bit. "You're such a perv. She's just a girl."
"Yeah, well…" Richard couldn't say anything more.
Mr. Moore, the homeroom / english teacher, came striding in and dropped his notes on his desk. The middle-aged man was slightly overweight in his suit and tie. He glanced around the room and noticed the new girl almost immediately. He pushed his hands on the desk and leaned forward trying to get her attention. His receding hairline became more noticeable as his eyes tried to lock in with the rocker chick's:
"Excuse me," He droned in a very monotone voice, his voice sounding tired.
The new girl didn't seem to pay attention or even acknowledge his existence.
"EXCUSE ME!" His voice was louder this time.
Finally, the girl in black jolted up and took her headphones off. The music was even louder, but she reached for the stop button of her CD player. The students around her all laughed.
While he was flustered, the teacher didn't scold her any further, as he didn't seem to care what she was dressed like. He adverted his eyes, going on with the usually opening day speeches. Everyone in the class listened boredly, having heard the same thing 2 years prior. When he got to school dress code, that's when he returned this gaze back to the cool girl.
"Unfortunately, St. Rose has a strict no combat boot policy." He said with a hint of a joking voice. "Tomorrow wear the shoes provided and ditch the leather jacket, will you Miss Kerrigan?"
At first C.J. was unsure how Mr. Moore knew the new girl's name, but then she felt stupid and remembered that he had an attendance book, and already knew he was getting a new student. Since she was the only new person it was easy to figure out her name.
"She's wearing a different coat." The new girl's voice was low and slightly gravelly. With her leather glove, she pointed to Hannah Darby, who had a grey peacoat from J. Crew. It went down past her waist and sported eight buttons separated into two rows on her chest. C.J. already knew that Hannah's coat was within the regulations because it was conservative and in a neutral color.
"Yes, but she's within regulations." The homeroom teacher explained, then spouted off the rule by memory. He had obviously had this conversation many times in his past, and, to his credit, seemed understanding of the new girl's argument. "The point is, your looks are more for fashion while Miss Darby's is for warmth. The school frowns on that."
"That's Bullshit!" She raised her arms in an intimidating manner. The leather sleeves and black gloves made her look even more dangerous, like she belonged to a street-gang.
"I didn't write the rules," Mr. Moore said in a dull voice, "and watch your mouth. You're in school, not at a heavy metal concert."
"I drive a moped to school. My coat is functional. You want me to fall off and scrape up my chest," She pulled out her jumper and spoke in a patronizing manner, "Ruin my nice new uniform?" She put her arms back up and went back to her normal voice, "Is THAT part of 'Regulations'?"
"I'm done with you. I'm going to talk to the principal." The girl was standing up now. "This is complete bu… crap."
The teacher snorted at her, "Be my guest. Don't be surprised if he throws you in detention." Mr. Moore gestured to the door.
"Thanks for the tip Ben Stein!" Kerrigan said before she stomped out of the room.
Everyone watched her go. Mr. Moore continued. "Let this be a lesson to all of you. Attitudes like that won't get you very far in an environment like this. St. Rose is a place of order. I might be laid back, but the other teachers aren't. She will likely get detention for acting out like that. You're in a private school so this is just something you'll have to suck up and take."
There was an exchange of looks between the students at this. Was that new girl really going to get in trouble for complaining about the dress code? Silently, Hannah meekly took off her coat.
After homeroom, C.J. put the new girl out of her mind as she had more immediate concerns. Since it was the first day, along with everyone else she was collecting the books and syllabuses she would refer for each lesson. Just before lunch break, however, she had to stop by the administrative office and transfer out of Woodshop class, which for some reason she somehow landed in. It was a good thing she did this, as she was one of two girls in the class, and while she wasn't the type to have an ego about her looks, she was the eye-candy. All the boys were drooling at her as if they never saw a girl before and it gave her the creeps.
So when lunchtime finally arrived, C.J. already felt exhausted. The sad part was she still had the rest of the day to get through. But at least her last three classes were History, Art, and Drama. Those were her easiest subjects so she felt like she could breathe in.
After she finished collecting her horrid looking lunch from the cranky looking cafeteria workers, she found her usual seat and sat down. It was only when she was looking away from what looked like regurgitated meat and lard casserole did she noticed that a number of people were suddenly looking away from her. Feeling self-conscious, she checked her face in her spoon's metal reflection. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, she opened her chocolate milk carton and took a sip.
Moments later Camilla and Amy found their way to her table and sat down. C.J. looked with envy at the homemade meal that Amy had brought, while Camilla took off her gloves so she could eat her meat stew. All at once, she noticed that C.J.'s gloves were no where in sight and protested.
"I took them off before I sat down." C.J. lied. Amy smirked to herself, but didn't say anything.
"Whatever. Hurry up and finish eating, we have a lot to cover." Camilla spoke quickly, and as an example took huge bites of her grease pudding.
"Your bass lesson, remember! We were going to show you how to play that Shania Twain song."
"Oh." C.J. completely forgot about that. "Listen, I don't think that-"
"It'll be fine!" Camilla interrupted, then pushed her tray way, not able to eat another bite of whatever substance that food was. "Amy and I will practically hold your hand! Right?"
Amy nodded and gave a small grunt through her puffed up cheeks. She was trying to eat her sandwich quickly.
"See, no problem." Camilla beamed and quickly pulled her white gloves back on. "You two finish up, I'll meet you in the band room." Leaving her tray behind, she bounded out of the room in a small job. A teacher nearby told her to slow down, but she ignored them.
Amy had an embarrassed look on her face, but stuffed her face all the more. C.J. felt sorry for her. She didn't think Camilla was being a bully or anything, but she wasn't a very good friend. Amy just sort of let Camilla do whatever she wanted. Then again, C.J. couldn't say she was any different. She was part of this girl-band and was talked into learning bass after all. But Amy seemed to be do the brunt of whatever Camilla's desires were.
"Thanks for helping me out, Amy." C.J. attempted to be nice to the girl. She looked at her paper bag and noticed that Amy's name on that was spelled A.M.I. Curious she pointed at that. "I'm sorry, am I saying your name wrong?"
Shallowing a mouth full of carrots, Amy coughed a bit, then shook her head. "No, my nickname is Amy Lynn. It's just easier that way."
"My real name is Ami Kizugawa." Amy further explained. "Every since grade school teachers pronounced Ami as Amy, so it kind of stuck. As for Lynn… that's Camilla. She doesn't like saying Kizugawa…"
"It's not that bad." Amy shrugged, but C.J. was under the impression that it did bother her. Ami being changed to Amy wasn't that drastic, but Lynn from Kizugawa was completely different.
"I can call you Ami if you want." C.J. offered.
"No, no! I'm used to Amy." Amy quickly said. "Only my parents and grandparents call my Ami. My own brother calls me Amy."
"Okay." C.J. still felt bad.
"Forget about that. We have to hurry up. Lunchtime is only so long."
Amy finished her carrots, then started packing her trash. C.J. finished her milk and french fries and left the decomposing meat product alone. Once the two of them threw away C.J. and Camilla's food and returned the trays, they went to the band room, where Camilla was already waiting for them:
"Gloves on please!" The drummer commanded.
C.J. by now noticed that Amy had her white gloves back on. How could she play guitar with gloves on? Were they expecting her to play bass with them on? Did it make it easier. Amy must have noticed C.J. looking confused, so she explained:
"I just started wearing gloves to play a year ago at," She looked to her new friend, "Camilla's insistence."
Camilla smiled while setting up her drums.
"Surprisingly it's not that hard," Amy admitted, "And your fingers won't hurt as much."
"Well," C.J. drew her gloves on, "I like my fingers not hurting."
Amy brought out an aqua-colored acoustic bass, and there was a decal of a cute cartoon cat on the side of it. Amy blushed when she saw C.J. look at it, but personally C.J. thought it made Amy seem cute. She went over to Camilla, who stood up and placed the bass-strap over her shoulder and positioned C.J.'s body so she was holding the instrument correctly.
"Yeah, she looks badass!" Camilla smiled.
"Uh… I do?"
"Nothing's sexier than a hot chick playing bass, huh Amy?"
"Hot chick?" C.J. blushed. She knew she was good looking but being told that by someone as pretty as Camilla was a bit shocking. She really didn't think she looked very much like a pop-star.
"All right, let the bass lesson begin," Camilla pointed to Amy, "Show her."
"Wait," C.J. put her hands up, "Can we just go through the song first? I want to make sure I can sing it before I start becoming a bass player. I have to sing in front of people after all."
Camilla sighed. She looked incredibly impatient. "Fine!" She sat at the school drum set, picking up her sticks in her white gloved hands. Amy picked up her acoustic guitar. Like the bass, it was covered with cute anime characters.
At least they match, C.J. thought to herself, eyeing Amy's two instruments.
The song they were going to play was Shania Twain's "You're Still the One," which Camilla had insisted on. It was incredibly popular at the time and Camilla figured it would suit C.J.'s voice well. Camilla started playing the beat to the song, rather softly. Amy joined in playing chords, the gloves not being a hindrance for her. C.J. began with the first verse:
"Looks like we made it
Look how far we've come, my baby"
C.J. still wasn't playing bass, she still didn't know how. Her arms just held it. Even she knew that the bottom was missing, but what could she do? One thing was for sure, when C.J. sang and closed her eyes, she thought she could perform just as well as Shania Twain could.
"You're still the one I run to
The one that I belong to."
There were also some backup vocals missing, but neither Camilla nor Amy chimed in. As soon as the chorus was over, Camilla stopped playing drums and held her stick up:
"You sound great C.J. Now let's get the bass going!" She looked to Amy expecting her to take over.
Amy did in fact take the lead, bringing her chair closer to C.J. so she could see her fingers. Amy did seem to be the music expert among them. "So the song is in D." She explained.
"Oh okay, I know that one." C.J. knew a D chord on guitar, so she tried to play that on bass, "These strings are so hard! I see what you mean about the gloves."
"No no," Amy shyly tried to explain, "It's not like that on bass."
Amy explained that bass had more to do with single notes and not chords. She went through the song slowly so that C.J. could see her finger movements. As she did so, she explained what she was doing, trying to explain music theory, and relate it to what she already knew on guitar. C.J. did the best she could to keep up, though to be honest she was a long way from going on tour, or even just playing this event on Friday. Not to mention her fingers were starting to feel sore. She couldn't imagine what it must have felt like without the gloves on. Camilla drifted in and out, sometimes playing a drum pattern completely unrelated to what her two bandmates were doing. Amy would shoot over some looks. But as C.J. showed some understanding of the lesson, Camilla looked pleased, which was some encouragement.
When the bell rang, they started to pack up the aqua-bass. Camilla looked at C.J. with a bit of concerned and asked if C.J. could remember what she learned. C.J. nodded, as what she learned was very basic. Camilla was satisfied with that answer:
"Now," Camilla rubbed her hands together, "We're a band!" And with another look of satisfaction, Camilla was gone, once again leaving Amy and C.J. to finish up.
"You did great for the time we had." Amy told her kindly. C.J. didn't know Amy well enough to tell if she was lying or not. "Try practicing a bit when you get the chance, okay?"
"Umm… it'll be easier if I had more time than just lunch hour." Amy looked a bit awkward now. "Do you think maybe sometime this week we can meet up somewhere and I can tutor you a bit more?"
"Sure! I can give you my cell phone number if you want."
"You have one?" Amy asked. "My Father won't get me one. He says 'There nothing so important that it can't wait until you get to a real phone.' But he doesn't get it."
C.J. wrote down her number quickly and handed it to Amy. She wanted to get to know her better, but they both had to rush to class now. Unfortunately for C.J., now she had to lug around a bass. It was in a case that she could sling over her shoulder, but it was really annoying. For the rest of the day, she had to cart that bulk with her, as well as the new books she was getting, making sure to be careful as she could tell Amy prized the instrument. After that cell phone comment, C.J. assumed that Amy must have saved up and bought it with her own money.
When school finished, C.J. was both relieved and disappointed. While the day was over, she still had to wait in the nearby park for her father for two and a half hours. She couldn't stick around school, as there was a rule for that as well. So when she gathered all her things, she took the relatively short walk down the street to the park.
It wasn't much of a park. It was just a grassy field with some trees scattered about the place with some benches. There was no swing set or anything like that. C.J. wandered over to a bench that was close to the road, but also under a tree and sat down. Now the waiting game could start. At first she just sat there, kicked her legs as they hung off the bench, bored out of her mind. Then she looked at the bass case she had lugged with her, and thought she probably should practice a bit. She had to remember the finger movements Amy had shown her.
Taking it out, she placed the instrument over her shoulder and started playing. C.J. kept her white gloves on. Playing the song, it flat out sounded wrong. She must have remembered Amy's lesson incorrectly, or else she wasn't playing it in the right sequence. Groaning with frustration, she removed her left glove and tried without it. But the sound was the same, and now her hand was now hurting even more. It was like the tips of her fingers were being stabbed. She experimented with what she learned, trying to find the correct way to play the thing. But she was making no progress.
"Ugh, stupid thing…" C.J. complained.
She was frustrated from the morning of not finishing her self pleasure, she was mad that she had to sit there and wait for her dad to show up, she was upset that she got roped into this whole band business, and now she was pissed at the bass for not cooperating with her. Just how the hell did Camilla expect her to learn how to play something in one week? Couldn't she just find another bass player? Wasn't singing enough?
"Work you stupid-" C.J. swore but was cut off.
"What's wrong Suzi Quatro?" A girl's voice came from the street. Looking up, C.J. saw sitting on her moped was the new girl, the rocker chick, from homeroom. She had an amused look on her face, her black hair covered by the riding helmet she wore. She didn't look unkind, just amused as she watched C.J. destroy the world of music. "That bass giving you trouble?"