“I grab the wizard’s wrists at the last second and whisper the incantation to cast shocking grasp!” said Aiden.
Jess looked across the school library table at Aiden. He was excited, agitated. And maybe a little cocky.
“OK,” she said, from behind her homemade Dungeon Master screen, an ornately hand-painted wall of cardboard erected around her paperwork, game books, and dice to shelter her secret plans from the players. “Make an attack roll.”
Aiden grabbed a 20-sided die from the table and shook it in his cupped hands.
“This punk is going down,” he said, taking his time rattling the die as long as possible to draw things out.
“Oh yes, evil doers,” said Grace in as dry and flat a tone as she could muster. “Beware Aiden and his potential 1d8 damage.
Aiden closed his eyes.
“Every little bit counts,” he said.
“Roll the damn dice!” said Jackson sharply.
“Just a sec,” said Aiden, holding his cupped hands against himself. “I want our esteemed Dungeon Master to set up my roll with a bit of flavour.”
Jess smirked.
“OK, fine,” she said. “You stand in the lair of the evil wizard Shed’nazul. A giant iron cage hangs suspended over a bubbling cauldron of a pink, smoky liquid. Inside the cage are about 40 of the most adorable fluffy kittens you could possibly imagine, all surrounding the snivelling cleric Ba’zil, who is huddled up with his pets like they’re a security blanket. Shed’nazul is about to pull the lever to lower the cage into the cauldron. That’s when you reach out to grab his wrist….”
Aiden smiled appreciatively.
“Lovely, thank you,” he said. “And now, the roll…”
He released the die onto the table, which rolled across his notebooks, onto the tabletop, and off the table where it clattered across the floor.
“Get it!” said Grace.
Aiden ducked under the table to grab the die.
“Aw, man,” he said, his voice muffled. “It went under the radiator.”
“Can you reach it?” said Jess.
“Just sec,” he said.
There was a pause.
“Ew,” he said.
“What?” said Jackson.
“You don’t want to know,” he said, sitting back up in his chair. He wiped his hands on his pants.
“I can’t find it. Can we just say it was a natural 20?” he said.
Just then, an electronic tone rang out through the hallways of the school. The teens instinctively started packing their dice and notebooks into their backpacks.
“Man, D&D at lunchtime sucks,” said Grace. “Just when we start to get somewhere, lunch period is over.”
“I’m sorry, guys,” said Jess, carefully folding up her cardboard screen.
“Your dumb band still can’t practice on any night other than Thursdays?” said Aiden.
“No, and it’s not dumb,” she said. “Well, only parts of it are dumb.”
“Which parts?” said Grace. “Not Grease, I bet. That guy is hot.”
Jess gave a thin-lipped smile.
“You’d be surprised.”
The truth was, parts of Thursday nights in Nathan Gaudet’s garage were the highlight of Jess’ week.
Other parts were less great.
Band practice officially started at 7. Realistically, Grease – the Renegades’ lead guitarist and singer – didn’t show up until at least 7:30. He’d berate them for 20 minutes as he got his gear together, and then they’d run through their one song (Death Blades Forever) two or three times, before Grease had to take off for something more pressing elsewhere.
How things really worked: Jess, Liam, and Gil showed up at Nathan’s house around 5. Nathan’s dad made them chicken fingers and freezer fries while they all chatted and set up in the garage. Jess had barely known these guys before Grease invited her and her banjo to join the band a few months ago, and now it felt like they’d known each other forever.
Jess knew Nathan was a huge metal head. He listened to music so loud and fast, she could hardly believe it. But he also had an encyclopedic knowledge of almost every genre of music and would follow on his drums wherever the group wandered.
Jess knew Liam was a closeted Carpenters fan. He publicly lived in the world of indie rock with his band T-shirts and his ratty jeans, but she knew when his headphones went on, he was grooving to “We’ve only just begun” sung in a million-part harmony.
Jess knew Gil was just about the most generous musician you could ever hope to play with. He knew exactly what to do with his bass to support the melody without being obnoxious. She also knew he was capable of shredding if he needed to, so the fact that he played simply and tastefully all the time was all the more impressive.
The four of them jammed for a couple hours every week before Grease arrived. They played covers of old Beatles songs. They humoured Liam with a few Carpenters tunes. They even played around with a few of Jess’ poems that they set to music. It was a bit of indie rock mixed with bluegrass harmonies, and Jess loved it, even if they were just goofing around.
When Grease showed up, they listened to him gripe for a while, played Death Blades a couple times, and smiled politely when he ran out the door again. Then they jammed for another hour and a half. Nathan’s dad made popcorn and tea.
Other than the half-hour or so Grease was in the room, it was a perfect way to spend a Thursday evening.
“Alright, maggots,” said Grease. “Let’s see if you can do any better than last week. Gil, let’s try not to be so sloppy on the bass. Liam… maybe pull back, like, 30 per cent? I don’t know what it is you’re doing on that organ, but dial it back.”
Liam nodded sheepishly.
“No prob,” said Liam. “30 per cent. Got it.”
“Nathan, this song is called Death Blades Forever, not Death Blades Sometimes. A little bit of intensity on the drums would be nice.”
Nathan grinned.
“OK, Derek,” he said.
“And Jess,” he looked at Jessica on her stool, her banjo on her knee. “Just be, I don’t know, cooler.”
Jess tilted her head to one side.
“Cooler?” she said. “Can you be… more specific?”
“Yeah,” he said. “You’re a girl with a banjo. Just… make it work.”
Jess blinked a few times.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank god,” said Grease, pulling his guitar strap over hid head. “Our show at Bobby’s is in a week. This is our big break, you guys. If you let me down here, I will be your enemy for life. OK, ready? On three. One, two, three…”
“Wait wait wait,” said Jess, waving her hand to stop the song from starting.
Grease stared at her.
“What?” he said.
“It’s just… you keep mentioning this gig, but we only have one song.”
Grease looked defiant.
“So?” he said.
“So, like, what will we do for the rest of the show? Are we seriously playing a gig with our one song?”
No one said anything for a while. Grease looked at the ground. He looked so angry.
“Do you want to be in this band or not?” he said quietly.
Jess looked around the garage. Nathan held his drumsticks on his lap, seemingly afraid to move. Liam gave her a wan smile from behind his keyboard. Gil couldn’t meet her eye.
She liked these guys a lot. Thursday evenings with 4/5ths of the Renegades were so much fun. But at this moment, with this jerk laying out an ultimatum and no one saying a thing to back her up, she realized she could give it up.
“I guess not,” she said.
She slung her banjo over her shoulder and walked out of the garage.
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Have a great week. <3 Davy