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CHAPTER 8 Kim retreated to her room as Gen and Elke discussed band issues. They
were probably planning a way to overthrow Kim’s rule of taking Chatha in, but
she currently couldn’t care less. The band had been her idea, and it would
remain completely under her charge until it was at least fully formed.
She had a thing about control; the thing being that she liked it
immensely. Whenever she was faced with a mind stronger than her own, she flipped
out. There was no way that her best friend and some girl she had just met would
make her change her mind about anything.
The band needed a good-natured girl, anyway. Everyone before Chatha had
been a hardcore bitch. The novelty of happiness would make a good effect for the
band in general. The thought of a short, young, perky girl with a bari-sax that
went down to her knees was just classic, and it’s something Kim wanted in her
band. She didn’t know why the others would be so against it.
She spent a while in front of the mirror, flipping her long red hair back
and forth, trying to decide how she wanted to present herself in this band.
Without a doubt, she wanted everyone in the band to be different. To represent
some sort of subculture. Gen was their walking Manic Panic advertisement, Elke
would probably jump on the chance to wear fetish day in and day out, Chatha
would pay homage to pink and the wonders thereof, and Kim just didn’t know
what she wanted to do.
Punk was an option, since that’s what their music was supposedly going
to be, and she had enough plaid and safety pins to fuel an entire punk movement.
The only problem was that everything felt like it had been done before. She
didn’t want to become a shadow of what had passed in the late ‘70s.
There was always the choice of becoming the second Siouxsie Sioux, but
those were huge shoes to fill. Kim couldn’t even imagine trying.
“What can I do with you, luv?” she asked her reflection. The phone
rang before her reflection got a chance to answer.
Knowing Elke wouldn’t answer, Kim picked up the phone that she kept in
her room. “Awright?”
“Hey, Kimmy-dear. It’s your long lost sweetheart calling.”
“Gwen! Where’ve you been? I looked for you in school today.” She
pouted. “I was gettin’ lonely. You know I can’t stand school without
you.”
“I looked like shit when I woke up, which in turn made me feel like
shit. Sorry, luv, I didn’t want anyone to see me like that, let alone you.”
“So a bad hair day keeps you out of school? How fair is that?”
“Not remarkably, I suppose. How are you?”
“All well an’ fine. I’ve got the girls over, an’ we’ve been
goin’ over some band stuff.”
“Named the band yet?”
“Nah. I’m starting to think it’ll never happen.”
“Give it time. So do you still only have Elke and Geneveve?”
“Actually, we got a new girl today who is right now off t’ get us
another new girl.”
“Names?”
“The new one’s Nicole Reiner, renamed Chatha Dariling. I don’t know
about her friend. But Chatha is the most adorable little thing you could ever
hope to meet. She speaks so fast, she’s practically unintelligible, she
bounces, she’s young and short and skinny and she splays the bari-sax. An’
she was wearin’ pink!”
“Pink?”
“Pink. The girl has no shame.”
“I’d say. How’re your other girls reacting to this new young
one?”
“Eh, Elke’s being a bitch about it. Gen’s following her close in
line. I swear, if there’s a mutiny, heads will roll.”
“Give ‘em hell, Kim-darling.”
“Wish you were here to meet Chatha. You’d love her.”
“I’m sure.”
There was a moment of silence between them, interspersed by breathing.
Gwen laughed lightly. “You know we wouldn’t be talking if I were there in
person either.”
“Well, if that’s so, let the silence reign.”
“My imagination could never do the real thing justice. Talk to me,
baby.”
“Well, I’m stressing over this entire naming of the band thing. A
band without a name is nothing, but a band with a bad name is worse.”
“You’re a very specific little girl, aren’t you? Well, have you had
any ideas for a name?”
“None.”
“Huh. I think it would sound good if it started with your name.
Something like Kim Kissably and the Doom-n-Gloom Girls.”
“Or Kim Kissably and the Doomsday Girls. We’re not a goth group.”
“Kim Kissably and the Destructo-Bitches?”
“What’s with all the D-names?”
“No clue. Hmm... How many people do you have?”
“When Chatha comes back with her friend, there’s four excluding
me.”
“Kim Kissably and the ... Red Lips Quartet.”
“I like it. But I’m going to have more than four girls at my side.”
“Red Lips Quintet, Sextet, Septet, Octet. However many you’re going
to need.”
“I think I’d like six, just so we can be a sextet.” Kim grinned.
“What instruments do you still need?”
“Huh... Have two guitars, sax, keyboards... I’d like a bass. And
drums.”
“That’ll give you six.”
“Though I can live without drums. The Sisters of Mercy have proven that
drum boxes can sometimes be better than the real thing. And if Elke keeps on
going like she does, I can do without a bloody good guitarist.”
“How so?”
“Every time someone mentions your name, she freaks. I swear, she hates
you with a bloody unbridled passion. It’s scary. I haven’t witnessed fits
like that since we were kids.”
“Oh...” Gwen held the phone call in silence for a while. “So she
didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“She and I kind of... Well, we had a fling. A short little fling. I was
getting rid of frustrations, she was experimenting with the whole girl-girl
thing. It crashed and burned. We haven’t gotten on that well since.” She
took a breath, trying to gauge Kim’s reaction before pressing on. “I was
actually really surprised when she approached me about you.”
“Yeah?” Kim’s voice was unsteady. She didn’t know what she was
feeling; Elke had dated a few of her old boyfriends, and that hadn’t meant
anything, but this felt different. With all those boys, she’d joked about how
they were used property and that made them so much better; pre-whipped, already
domesticated.
“You sound sick.”
“Maybe I am.” Kim closed her eyes.
“God... Did I just hurt us? Please don’t tell me I hurt us.”
“Nah, I...” She hesitated. “Whenever this happened with a guy,
we’d both joke about him being a toss-off.”
“Kim--”
“Nah, it’s not like that this time. That’s the problem. I don’t
want to lose you, an’ I think Elke may still be trying to get you back. Set
you up with me just to have you around again.”
“Can we do this, then?”
“Yes. I’m not going to lose you over this. I refuse to. So you an’
Elke ended bad. The same won’t happen between us, will it?”
“I don’t know.”
Kim held her breath.
“But I want more than anything for us to
work.”
“So we’ll fight through this together. I like that. This is th’
best thing I’ve ever had.”
“You can tell already?”
“Yes.”
“We’re both young.”
“I know. But when ya’ consider that I don’t plan on livin’ much
past 30, I’m not all that young.”
“Why 30, Kim?” Gwen’s voice was soft.
“My fire’s burnin’ so strong, it’s gonna’ burn itself out soon.
I’m never gettin’ ta 40, that’s a guarantee. I think I had my midlife
crisis in my early teens.”
“So will it be suicide?”
“C’mon, Gwen, suicide’s so passé. When I die, it will be unique
an’ r’membered. That’s a promise.”
“So long as I’ve had my turn with you, I can’t complain, I guess.
Where do you see us in a year?”
“Redefining the limits of passion and lust themselves. Where do you see us?”
“Cheating the ever-present burnout that stalks all hot-n-heavy
things.”
“Marvelous.”
“And where do you see your band in a year, Kim?”
“Clubbin’. Gettin’ rejected by labels left right and center.”
“You need a goth in your band.”
“Gwen, I refuse to date a band mate! You know that already.”
“I didn’t say the goth, luv; I said a
goth.”
“Oh, right, whenever you refer to yourself in the third person, it’s
in the proper form.” Kim grinned. “I’ll hafta’ r’member.”
“That’s right. Get with it.”
“A pushy l’il gothic bitch, are we?”
“Always.”
The doorbell rang and there were voices in the hall. Kim swore softly.
“The new’un just arrived. I’m gonna’ hafta let you go.”
“Until later, then.”
“If you don’t show at school on Monday, I’m gonna’ hafta
personally track you down, catch ya’, and rape ya’.”
“Mmm. Way to make a girl not want to show at school. Can I hold you to
that?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll see you Monday, then. You have the keys to my house.”
“Except me at the most unexpected time, then.”
“Fare thee well, luv.”
“Same to you.” Kim hung up, then took a moment to mentally prepare
herself. Any friend of Chatha’s had to be ... interesting. |
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Talk to LL,
the author. |