Free Drummer Girl by Karen Bass

girls at school who dressed like this. What was the difference? Why did he hate what she’d done? He knew why she was doing this. He knew how much getting into The Fourth Down meant to her.
    Heather crouched beside her. “Ignore that idiot.”
    â€œHe’s my best friend,” Sid whispered. Her chest still ached from the way he had fled.
    â€œSome best friend. A best friend would be happy for you.”
    â€œI don’t know, Heather. I...maybe I should forget it.” Her best friend hated her new look. Sid watched her fingers drumming – no rhythm, just spastic little taps.
    â€œNo! He’s dead wrong, Sid. And I’ll prove it to you.” Sid’s curiosity surfaced and she looked up, waiting for Heather to explain. “Come with us tonight.”
    â€œWhere?”
    â€œOur guys are taking us to McGinty College to a concert featuring some local bands. It’s in their bar but they’re opening it to everyone because some of the band members are under age. No alcohol served, if Uncle James asks.”
    Now that Heather mentioned it, Sid remembered seeing a poster at the music store. The concert was called “First Impressions” because for most of the bands it was their first time playing on an actual stage. Could be interesting, or very painful. She’d considered going when the posters first appeared and The Fourth Down was on the bill, but they’d withdrawn after their drummer died. That had snuffed her interest, especially since it was across town and she didn’t like asking James to drive her places where he’d have to wait too long. It was too far by bus. Taylor and his motorcycle came to mind. Not that his having wheels helped her any, not after his reaction a few moments ago.
    Heather squeezed her arm. “You have to give this a chance. It’ll be fun.”
    â€œTotally.” Coral said. Sid had forgotten Coral was there. She added, “My brother plays bass for one of the groups. That’s why we’re going. Heather said you drum. Are you in a band?”
    I wish. Sid glanced down at her skirt and tried to tug it a little lower. Her legs were cold. “I used to jam with my brother’s band, but he’s gone to college so I’ve just been working at getting better. Taylor thought –”
    Heather pulled Sid to her feet. “Forget Taylor. Tonight you are going to discover the difference it makes to walk into a room looking good.”
    Was I so completely awful before? Sid didn’t say it aloud since she knew Heather would say yes. Maybe Taylor was being an idiot. Much as Sid hated to admit it, Heather was right: she needed to get out. She didn’t want to sit around all night, moping about Taylor’s outburst. Inhaling deeply, she nodded. Coral and Heather both clapped. Sid consoled herself that at least they hadn’t jumped up and down and squealed.
    The beautification project had taken most of the day, so The Guys (Sid couldn’t recall their names) picked them up at Sid’s and they went for pizza. The Guys did a great job at making Sid feel like the odd one out. She could have been a piece of furniture.
    By the time they reached the college, Sid was in a black mood. The darkened bar, the flashing lights, and the crowd all made it worse. The only thing good was the beat. Sid craned her neck to see over the crowd. The guitarists looked like high school students, so she assumed the drummer was, too. She (or he) was decent.
    Someone stumbled into their group and wandered off without a word. His wake stunk of beer. Apparently the bar not serving booze only meant people brought their own. Someone else bumped into Sid from behind, reinforcing her dislike of crowds, and the jostling most of all. Mr. Brock would probably say she was “protective of her personal space.” Big time.
    A guy with a goatee who looked like he had to be in college stopped by her and spoke. Sid glanced over her