Double Date

  chapter 3

  A Warning

  “I’m late. I’ve got to run,” Paul said. He slid his keyboard into the cabinet. “My mom is going to be waiting in the street.”

  “Good practice,” Bobby commented, his eyes on the heavy gray clouds outside the music room window. “Maybe you guys won’t embarrass me Friday night.”

  “The two Tommy songs need work,” Paul said, hurrying to the door. “We weren’t together. And the tempo was way too slow.”

  “Yeah,” Bobby agreed. He played a fast riff from one of the Tommy songs. “I’ve been listening to the CD. That’s the right tempo. Same as The Who.”

  “Who’s on first?” Arnie chimed in.

  “What’s on second” was Bobby’s reply.

  “I’m out of here,” Paul said.

  Bobby unplugged the white Fender Strat from the amp. He grinned at Arnie. “Think the Wade twins are still around?”

  “You’re really going to do it?” Arnie asked.

  “You can have them when I’m done,” Bobby told him.

  “You’re a real friend,” Arnie joked. He started a drumroll but dropped a stick. It clattered to the floor and rolled in front of Bobby. As Bobby bent to pick it up, he saw Melanie Harris step into the room.

  Bobby tossed the drumstick at her. “Think fast!”

  Melanie let out a surprised squeal and ducked out of the way. The drumstick hit the wall and bounced across the floor. “Give me a break,” Melanie said. She bent to pick up the drumstick, then scowled at Bobby.

  Bobby laughed. He watched Melanie as she crossed the room to Arnie. She was a short girl, a little chunky. She had waist-length straight brown hair that she usually wore in a single braid. She had beautiful brown eyes and a great smile.

  Bobby had fallen for that amazing smile. The previous spring he had gone out with Melanie for nearly three months. A record for him.

  But Melanie stopped smiling at him when she discovered he was dating other girls behind her back. She broke up with him immediately, tears running down her face. She hadn’t smiled at him since.

  Now she was going with Arnie.

  Just as well, Bobby thought. He really didn’t like the emotional ones. Why did she have to cry the night she broke up with me? he wondered. Was she trying to make me feel bad?

  Bobby watched her as she handed the drumstick to Arnie. She looks great in those tight jeans, he thought. She wore a silky black vest, open, over a golden yellow shirt.

  Not bad, Bobby told himself. If she’d lose a few pounds, I might even ask her out again. I mean, when Arnie’s finished with her.

  Melanie and Arnie were chatting quietly. Bobby carried his guitar to its case to put it away. “You coming Friday night?” he called to Melanie.

  “Arnie is forcing me,” Melanie replied.

  “It’s going to be great,” Arnie told her. “We had a great rehearsal today. Didn’t we, Bobby?”

  “Awesome,” Bobby replied, clasping the guitar case.

  “What do you think we should wear?” Arnie asked. “We never talked about that.”

  “How about bags over your heads?” Melanie suggested. She snickered. “You know. Just in case your music makes the crowd ugly.”

  “A bag would mess up my hair,” Bobby muttered. He carried the case to the cabinet and shoved it inside.

  “I was just kidding!” Melanie exclaimed. She groaned. “You are the vainest person I ever met!”

  “Takes one to know one,” Bobby shot back. He unplugged the amp and started to roll up the cord.

  Melanie and Arnie talked quietly again. Bobby carried the amp to the cabinet and lowered it to the cabinet floor.

  He heard girls’ voices out in the hall. The Wade twins?

  “Got to run,” he called to Melanie and Arnie. He started to the door.

  “Hey, Bobby—” Melanie called to him. “Don’t do it.”

  “Huh?” He turned back. Her dark eyes were trained on him, narrowed in disapproval.

  “Stay away from Bree and Samantha,” Melanie warned.

  Bobby couldn’t keep a grin from spreading across his face. “Arnie told you?”

  Melanie nodded. “Bobby, I’m warning you,” she said. “I know those girls. They’re not what you think.”

  Bobby laughed scornfully. “I can get along without your advice, Mel.”

  “I’m serious,” Melanie insisted. “Stay away from them.”

  Bobby shook his head hard, as if shaking away her warning. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone,” he said sarcastically.

  He hurried out of the room. The long corridor was empty. His sneakers squeaked against the hard floor as he started to his locker.

  Melanie’s warning repeated in his ears. What is her problem anyway? he thought. He decided she was still messed up because of breaking up with him.

  Melanie hasn’t gotten over me yet, he told himself. Well—who can blame her?

  As he turned a corner, he nearly banged into an open locker door. He stopped short—and a startled girl appeared from around the other side of the door.

  “Hi,” he said, recovering quickly, turning on his smile. “Are you Bree or Samantha?”

  chapter 4

  One Down

  She gaped at him as if she had never been asked that question before. Her straight black hair fell over one eye.

  “I’m Bree,” she said finally in a soft, velvety voice.

  “Hi, Bree,” Bobby replied, stepping close, his eyes locked on hers. “I’m Bobby Newkirk.”

  “I know,” she said shyly. She brushed the hair away from her face.

  “Did you find Mr. Cotton?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Yeah. My sister and I wanted to ask him about chorus. I mean, it’s kind of late in the year. But we thought maybe we could join. In time for the spring concert.”

  She sighed, as if explaining all that was a chore.

  “You sing?” Bobby asked, studying her face. He liked her green eyes, liked the pale gloss she had on her full lips.

  “Well, Samantha and I think so. But I’m not sure what Mr. Cotton thinks.” She smiled for the first time, a brief smile. Then she shyly looked away.

  “I’m in a band,” Bobby told her. “Did you hear us? I mean, out in the hall?”

  She nodded. “A little.”

  “We could use a singer,” Bobby told her. The idea had just popped into his head. “I’m a great guitar player. And I sing okay too. But we could use a girl singer. Maybe you or your sister—?”

  “Samantha might like that,” Bree replied thoughtfully. “Her voice is a lot stronger than mine.” She hesitated, moving a step and staring down into the open locker. “I don’t think I could sing rock music.”

  “You’re quiet, huh?” Bobby asked.

  Pink circles formed on her pale cheeks.

  “Quiet like a mouse?” Bobby teased.

  She giggled. “Not that quiet.” Her hair fell over her eye again. She made no attempt to smooth it away.

  “Our band is playing at a club Friday night,” Bobby told her. “It’s a dance club for teenagers. On Old Mill Road. You know it? It’s called The Mill.”

  Bree shook her head. “No. We just moved here last year. I haven’t been—”

  “You busy Friday night? Want to come hear us?” Bobby asked.

  He could see surprise in her eyes. The pink circles on her cheeks grew darker. “Well—”

  “We wouldn’t have to stay at the club if you don’t like it,” he added quickly. “My band is doing just one set. We could leave right after. You know. Go somewhere else.”

  She raised her eyes to his and stared hard at him as if trying to read his thoughts. “Okay,” she said. “Sounds like fun.”

  “Way cool,” Bobby replied. He stepped back as she turned to pull her backpack out of the locker.

  “Know where I live?” she asked. “It’s on Fear Street. Way at the end.”

  “I’ll find it,” Bobby told her. “See you Friday. About seven-thirty.”


  He flashed her his most winning smile, then took off for his locker. He knew she was watching him, admiring his walk.

  Piece of cake, he thought, very pleased with himself. That was almost too easy.

  She’s really shy, he decided. But I could see how excited she was that I asked her out.

  “One down,” he murmured to himself, “and one to go.”

  “Way to go, man!” Arnie slapped Bobby an enthusiastic high-five.

  Bobby did an exaggerated strut around his bedroom. “I’m cool, I’m cool!” he chanted.

  “So which one did you get a date with?” Arnie asked.

  “Bree,” Bobby told him. “Rhymes with me. Bree and me!”

  “What rhymes with Samantha?” Arnie demanded. “Pink pantha?”

  As usual, Bobby didn’t laugh at his friend’s lame joke. “I’m cool. I’m cool!” He did a little more strutting around his bedroom.

  Arnie had stopped by after dinner, as he often did, mainly to avoid doing his homework. Bobby had immediately told him that he’d already asked Bree Wade out that afternoon and, of course, she’d said yes.

  “They just can’t say no to Bobby the Man!” he cried. He slapped Arnie another high-five. “Who’s the Man, Arnie? Who’s the Man?”

  “You the Man!” Arnie obediently replied. He dropped on top of Bobby’s red and white bedspread, sprawling on his back, resting his head in his hands. “What about her sister?”

  “I’m calling her right now,” Bobby said. “I’m glad you came by, man. You can listen. You can be a witness as I make history!”

  Arnie laughed. He was enjoying this as much as Bobby.

  Arnie is my biggest fan, Bobby realized. That’s why we’re such good friends.

  “You’re really going to ask Samantha out for Saturday night?” Arnie asked, sitting up and stretching his arms up over his head.

  Bobby nodded, grinning as he reached for the cordless phone.

  “And you’re going to tell her not to tell Bree?” Arnie dropped onto his back again.

  Bobby nodded again. He searched for the Wades’ phone number in the Shadyside High directory he kept by the phone. “Two Wades in one weekend,” he muttered, moving his finger down the column of names and numbers. “That’s the challenge. And I accept the challenge.”

  “You the Man!” Arnie proclaimed. “You the Man!”

  Bobby punched in the number, then pressed the phone to his ear.

  “What if Bree answers?” Arnie demanded. “What if Bree answers and you think it’s Samantha?”

  “Hey, I can tell them apart,” Bobby declared. He raised a finger to his lips, signaling Arnie to be silent.

  The phone rang twice. Then a girl’s voice on the other end said hello.

  Bobby cleared his throat. “Hello—Samantha?”

  chapter 5

  “Do You Think I’d Do That to My Sister?”

  “Yes, this is Samantha. Who’s this?”

  “Hi, Samantha. It’s Bobby Newkirk.”

  “Oh. Hi!” She sounded very surprised. “Bree and I were just talking about you.”

  Bobby’s smile faded. “Oh. Is she there? In the room with you?”

  “No. Bree is downstairs. Want me to get her?”

  “No!” Bobby replied quickly. “I wanted to talk to you, actually.”

  “Me?” Her voice wasn’t soft and velvety like Bree’s. Samantha spoke loudly, Bobby knew.

  “Bree said you might be interested in singing with our band,” Bobby said, smiling over at Arnie.

  Arnie, sprawled on his back on the bed, flashed him an a-okay sign for encouragement.

  Samantha laughed scornfully. “Me? Sing with a band? You’re kidding!”

  “Want to try?” Bobby asked.

  “No way!” Samantha cried. “Why would Bree say that?”

  Bobby chuckled. “I don’t know. But that’s what she told me.”

  “Weird,” Samantha said. “Well—no thanks. I sound good only in a big group. Or in the shower.”

  They both laughed.

  Arnie sat up, listening intently to Bobby’s side of the conversation.

  “You busy Saturday night?” Bobby asked casually.

  Silence at the other end. He could imagine the stunned expression on her face.

  “Want to go to a movie? You know. At the Tenplex?”

  More silence. Then finally, Samantha replied in a hushed tone just above a whisper. “But, Bobby, you asked my sister out for the night before.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Bobby replied.

  He could hear her short, rapid breathing on the other end. He knew she expected him to say more. So he didn’t.

  “I don’t think Bree would like it if I went out with you the next night,” Samantha said, speaking thoughtfully.

  “She doesn’t have to know about it,” Bobby suggested, his voice steady and low. He listened to her breathing, trying to determine what her reaction was.

  “Is this a dare or a bet or something?” she demanded angrily. “Did someone dare you to go out with us both? Is that it?”

  “No. No way!” Bobby insisted. “I’ve been thinking about you. I mean, I see you in homeroom, and I thought—”

  “It’s not a dare?” she demanded suspiciously.

  “No. No way. I swear, Samantha.”

  A long silence. Bobby waited patiently, his eyes on Arnie.

  She’s going to say yes, he told himself. She’s hot for me and she knows it. She is stoked. She’s no different from all the other girls at school. She wants to go out with Bobby the Man.

  “Bobby,” she said finally, “do you really think I’d do that to my sister?”

  “Sure you would,” Bobby urged. “Sure you would. You know you’re dying to go out with me—right?”

  “You’re really conceited,” she replied.

  “Yeah, I know,” Bobby told her. “It’s my best quality.”

  Samantha laughed appreciatively. “I like conceited guys!” she declared.

  I’ve got her! Bobby told himself gleefully.

  “So you’ll go out with me Saturday night?” he urged.

  “Yeah. Okay,” she replied. “To the movies, right?”

  “Right,” Bobby said, flashing Arnie a two-fingered victory sign. “And it’ll be our secret? I mean, your sister—”

  “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her—much,” Samantha said.

  It struck Bobby as an odd thing to say. He didn’t quite get her meaning. He decided to let it pass. “Maybe we’d better meet at the mall,” he told her. “So Bree won’t know.”

  “Good thinking, Ace,” Samantha replied. “And we can wear masks so no one will recognize us.”

  Bobby laughed. “That was a joke, right?” She had such a deadpan delivery, it was hard to tell if she was joking or not.

  “Yeah. A joke,” she replied dryly. “Uh-oh. I think I hear Bree. I’ve got to go.”

  “Meet you Saturday at eight,” Bobby said quickly.

  “Bye,” she whispered. A sexy whisper.

  The line went dead.

  Bobby tossed the cordless phone into the air. It landed softly on the plush carpet. He turned to Arnie, a triumphant grin on his face. Then he began to do his strut step around the room in celebration.

  “I wish I was double-jointed so I could pat myself on the back!” he cried.

  “You did it!” Arnie cried. “I don’t believe it! You did it! This is the coolest thing I ever heard of!”

  “Yeah, it is, isn’t it!” Bobby agreed.

  He and Arnie did some more celebrating, the two of them strutting around the room, shouting and whooping.

  Finally Arnie stopped, a thoughtful expression on his face. He scratched the line of fuzz above his upper lip. It was always itching him. “Samantha isn’t going to tell her sister?” he asked.

  Bobby shook his head. “It didn’t seem to be a problem for her at all.” He grinned. “Samantha seems really cool. I mean really cool!”

  “Wow,” Arnie murmured. “Wo
w.” And then he added, “I wonder why Melanie was so bent out of shape about this.”

  Bobby shrugged. “Who knows? Melanie is weird. I warned you, man.”

  Arnie shook his head. “But why did she think it was so important to warn you not to go out with the Wade twins?” he demanded.

  “I don’t know what Melanie’s problem is,” Bobby replied. “I really don’t. I mean, what could happen, man? What could happen?”

  chapter 6

  First Shock

  Bree looked awesome, Bobby thought. She wore a short black skirt over red tights and a silky, sleeveless red T-shirt. She had tied herblack hair back with a red ribbon. But it had come loose soon after they arrived at The Mill Now it flowed down past her shoulders, waving behind her as she clapped and swayed to the music.

  Bobby watched Bree from the small stage as his fingers moved through the opening notes of “That’ll Be the Day.” Through the flashing red and blue lights, he could see her standing alone near the back of the dance floor, clapping to the beat.

  What an excellent sound system! Bobby thought. He smiled at Paul and Arnie as their music flowed out over the crowded, throbbing dance floor. We sound great!

  Bobby began to do his Chuck Berry strut. His hands moved automatically. The music flowed through him, around him, inside him.

  The set ended too quickly. Bobby wanted the quaking, shaking blur of throbbing sound and flashing lights, dancing bodies, shouts, and cheers to go on forever.

  “They love us!” Bobby cried as he stepped off the stage. “They love us!”

  The cheers faded as the deejay turned the music up. The lights continued to flash. Red and blue, red and blue. Bobby pushed through the jumble of twisting, bobbing bodies and shadows to the back of the dance floor, where Bree waited for him.

  “How was it?” he shouted. He grabbed a used napkin from a table and mopped the sweat off his forehead.

  “What?” Bree shouted.

  He leaned closer and shouted over the music, “How was it?”

  She smiled. “Great!” Her tiny voice barely rose over the vibrating bass, the steady thud of synthesized drums.

  “It’s too loud to talk!” Bobby shouted into her ear. “Let’s just dance.”

  They danced for a few songs. Bree, he saw, was too self-conscious to be a good dancer. She can’t let go and just dance, he realized. He could see the concentration on her face as she struggled to keep the beat.