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Boring Girls Page 9
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I had the same childish feeling of excitement now, but this was the first time I’d been here without my family, so it was heightened. I felt adult. Tonight would be a new experience for me. As we drove into the city the sun was setting, turning the water in the bay orange, sparkling.
TWELVE
Edgar was hungry and so was I, so we stopped at a hot dog vendor on the corner by the parking lot and the two of us bought a hot dog.
“I’ve never been to a concert before,” I said, slathering ketchup and mustard on my hot dog. I didn’t feel stupid telling him this, I felt completely comfortable.
“You’re going to love it,” he said.
We walked up the street and found ourselves at the end of a lineup for the concert. At the beginning of the line I could see the venue sign illuminated in neon: The Grey Room.
Craig waved to a few people he presumably knew who were ahead of us, and for a second I hoped he would go join them, but he stayed with us.
Most of the guys in the line had long hair, total heavy metal types, wearing band shirts. Pretty much everyone in line was dressed in black, and most of them had dyed hair. The girls all wore heavy makeup, and I noticed that some of the guys wore eyeliner too. I wondered if wearing a red dress made me look awkward, but then I realized that standing out was a good thing. People were looking at me too; I felt great, like I belonged, but at the same time, like I was slightly above it because I stood out. Wearing the red dress had been a good idea. Fern stood out too, gleaming in her silver outfit. Both of us were unique.
It was almost dreamlike that this many metal people existed. I sure hadn’t seen any of them back home.
Edgar was on edge, worried about the skinhead guys from the last show. He kept looking up the line and back down it as it continued forming behind us. I looked around too. The whole idea of these racist guys confused me.
“So you think these guys will show up?” I asked Edgar.
“I don’t know.” He eyed a group of guys with shaved heads who walked past us towards the back of the line. These were skinheads, I could tell. They were wearing bomber jackets and had their jeans tucked into their boots. But they nodded to Edgar as if they knew him, and he nodded back as they passed us.
“That wasn’t them?” I asked.
“Nah. I know those guys from around,” he said. “They aren’t dicks. Not all skinheads are all racist and shit,” he informed me. “Only some. There are assholes in every crowd, right?”
I laughed and nodded, thinking of Craig. I glanced at him. He was gazing sourly towards the front of the line.
“So you guys both go to Glen Park, right?” Fern said, addressing me and him.
“Yep,” Craig said, not looking at me.
I didn’t say anything, just lifted my chin and looked away. Fern gave me a quizzical look, and I shrugged and rolled my eyes.
The line started moving, and before too long we were inside the venue. I tried to play it cool, but I couldn’t help grasping Fern’s hand with excitement. She grinned at me.
It was a large room, with a bar along one side and couches along another. The stage took up one entire end of the room. Instruments were set up, but no one was onstage yet. It was pretty dark. There was a big, sparkling disco ball suspended from the ceiling and tea lights flickered on the small tables around the back. A few hundred people milled around. There was nowhere left to sit. Metal blasted from the speakers.
We secured ourselves a place in the crowd in front of the stage. “If we get separated,” Yvonne said loudly, “we’ll meet by the door after the show.”
Fern went to the bathroom and I stood with the others. Yvonne and Craig started talking to some people beside us, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. I stood beside Edgar and soaked up the atmosphere in the room, waiting for the concert to get started.
“I’ve seen Surgical Carnage a few times,” he said. “They’re fucking great.”
“I can’t wait,” I said.
“There’s supposed to be an opening band too,” he continued. “I’ve never heard of them.”
Fern rejoined us, and right when she got back the overhead music stopped playing abruptly. A loud cheer came up from the crowd, and I joined in, raising my hands over my head.
Three guys with long hair came onto the stage. One took his place behind the drum set and the other two picked up a guitar and a bass. The bassist stepped up to the microphone.
“We’re Catastrophic Enzyme,” he growled. “Fuck you!”
The band launched into their first song, and the crowd started swelling and moving. It became a mass of pushing and flying hair as everyone whipped their heads around. Stunned, I almost lost my footing. Edgar grabbed my arm to help me regain my balance. I looked for Fern. She was right beside me, and when she saw me looking at her, she smiled.
A few songs in, the crowd lost its enthusiasm. The band wasn’t very good, even I could tell. People still cheered and a few heads whipped long hair around, but things definitely quieted down. The singer from the band harassed the crowd between songs, which got a bit of reaction, but the songs all sounded the same. I couldn’t make out any of the lyrics, and no one else seemed to know them either. I began to get bored.
After a while their set ended with the singer reminding us that Surgical Carnage was next, and the shrieked response from the crowd was deafening. All three members of Catastrophic Enzyme gave the crowd the finger as they left the stage.
A few guys came out and started taking away the band’s gear, and the overhead music started playing again. I had to pee, so Fern and I went to the bathroom together.
We washed our hands in two side-by-side sinks. The counter was crowded with girls fixing their makeup and chatting, and we took out our lipsticks to reapply them as well.
“So what’s up with you and Craig?” Fern asked.
“Honestly? He’s an asshole. I know he’s a friend of yours, but I can’t stand him.”
“How come?”
I shrugged. “I tried to say hi to him one time, and he totally blew me off. He was really rude.”
Fern was quiet for a minute, dabbing powder onto her nose. “Yeah, he’s a bit weird.”
“I wouldn’t say weird. I’d say asshole,” I said. It sounded pretty arrogant, and I glanced sideways at Fern, hoping I hadn’t offended her, but she was nodding.
“Well, fuck him if he was rude to you.”
xXx
We went back out and found the others. More people had packed in front of the stage, and it was pretty much shoulder-to-shoulder. I could feel the impatience and anticipation coming from the crowd, and it made me jittery. I was annoyed that my view of the stage was blocked by people’s stupid heads, but I was glad I’d worn the high heels. They raised me up a little bit, even though my feet were getting a little sore.
When Surgical Carnage took the stage, the crowd went insane. The singer didn’t even bother making an introduction, and they launched into their set.
My face immediately smashed up against the sweaty back of the moron in front of me and I lost my footing, but the pressure from behind and front kept me upright. I lifted my face away, gagging at the stench of the guy’s sweat, and opened my mouth to gasp for air. Immediately I got a mouthful of the guy’s disgusting hair, and I choked. It was absolutely disgusting. I felt panic rise up my throat as I gagged, struggling to breathe.
I felt arms close around me and pull me back. Thank god for Edgar. “Are you okay?” he yelled into my face.
“Yeah.”
Yvonne pressed her face towards me. “I’m moving to the back. I’ll meet you guys after.” With that, I watched her turn and disappear into the crowd.
With Edgar doing his best to shield me, I was able to catch glimpses of the stage through the bouncing, rioting crowd. The band looked great. They all threw their heads around in unison, and the singer bell
owed and growled through a veil of hair. It was deafeningly loud. I turned to look at Fern. She had one arm braced against the guy in front of her to keep his sweaty back away, pushing him aggressively. Her other hand reached up in the air, fist clenched. Her mouth was wide open in a snarl. She looked amazing. Craig stood behind her in the same way Edgar was behind me, whipping his hair around. Sometimes it would hit Fern, but she didn’t seem to mind it. I was grateful Edgar wasn’t moving his head. He had long dreadlocks and I imagined that it would suck getting one in the eye.
By the second song, a mosh pit formed in the crowd ahead of us. I watched people move through it, smashing into each other. “Hey,” I shouted, grabbing Fern’s arm. “Want to go up there?”
She nodded, her eyes shining. We linked arms and pushed through the crowd. Edgar and Craig followed. It was strange, because to get through the crowd, we had to shove people hard and elbow them aggressively, and no one seemed to mind. It was a very powerful feeling.
“Fuck, Rachel, be careful,” Edgar yelled into my ear, making me pull back at the volume of his voice.
“I’m fine,” I said and threw myself into the mosh pit.
Mistake. I slammed into some huge guy immediately and almost fell over. Then as I rebounded off him, someone smashed into the back of my head and my vision went pure white, my eyes pricking with shock. I threw my arms up around my head and kept myself from stumbling. This had been a bad idea.
When I opened my eyes I saw a giant, long-haired monster careening towards me, his eyes frenzied. He didn’t even know what he was doing, I realized. Everyone in this mosh pit was insane. As he stumbled into me, I shoved him as hard as I could. He reeled off in another direction. Okay, maybe I could figure this out. Glancing around, I saw a few other girls in the mosh pit as well, holding their own. Okay. I braced myself to absorb the impact of another guy, and then was sent crashing into Fern, who laughed hard. I realized if I just relaxed and went with the motion of getting smashed into, it wasn’t as painful. And I had to push back. It started to feel surreal, with the constant motion and the deafening music in my ears. I didn’t notice any pain. It was fun. A short girl slammed into me, and I shoved her hard. She stumbled backwards and I laughed, turning to the left to absorb the impact of another guy with my back.
I noticed Fern, who had been knocked away from me, her mouth hanging open in a shriek that I couldn’t hear. Some tall guy’s hand was on her chest. I looked up at his face. The guy was grinning. Nobody around them seemed to notice what was happening. Rage streamed through my veins, and I froze for a second, staring at Fern’s terrified face and the pale, spidery hand crawling across the front of her dress.
I felt a hard push from behind me, but I was so furious that I remained planted where I was, sending whichever moron had slammed into me reeling back the way they’d come. The music pulsed in my head. I saw Craig and Edgar coming in from the other side towards Fern, but they were too far away.
I opened my mouth in a scream of rage and threw myself towards Fern. My boot slammed down hard on someone’s foot, and they cried out painfully into my ear. I felt the high-heel snap off, giving me a lopsided gait as I shoved my way towards my friend. Some oblivious girl stumbled in front of me, and I grabbed her firmly by the shoulders and shoved her aside, barely breaking stride.
Fern’s eyes were fixed on mine. I could see the panic in them as she struggled to break away from the asshole. I launched myself at him, pulling back my fist and slamming him right in the face as hard as I could.
I felt his nose crack and give in under my knuckles. His eyes widened in shock and blood exploded from his nostrils. The blood splattered onto Fern’s hair and his arm loosened its grip around her shoulders. Craig and Edgar finally got to us, and I watched Craig grab Fern away from the guy. Edgar’s hands began to close down on my shoulders, but I jerked myself away from him and hurled myself towards the guy once again. His hands were pressed to his nose, blood streaming. He backed away, scanning the people who still pushed and staggered around him to see which big, scary guy had punched him.
“It was me, you prick!” I screamed, even though I knew he couldn’t hear me. I drew back my leg, laughing, and kicked him in the crotch as hard as I could with my pointy-toed boot. His hands flew away from his face and he doubled over. On his way down he saw me, finally registering that it had been me, a stupid little girl, who had done this to him.
Edgar grabbed me and dragged me away from the mosh pit. Everyone was still shoving and slamming into each other, and no one apparently had noticed what had transpired. As Edgar pulled me backwards I tried to catch another glimpse of the asshole, but he’d been swallowed by the crowd.
We proceeded towards the back of the venue, where Craig and Fern were with Yvonne. This was a safer place to watch the show, I could see why she’d escaped back here. Better view, fewer people. The music was still loud as hell, but it was easier to hear ourselves talk.
“What the fuck happened?” Yvonne shrieked, staring at the blood in Fern’s hair.
“It was crazy. Some guy was grabbing Fern, and Rachel punched him right in the face,” Craig said.
“Oh my god. Are you okay?” Yvonne squealed, grabbing Fern’s arm.
She nodded, obviously trying to compose herself. “Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she said. “Holy shit, Rachel, that was crazy. You broke that guy’s nose.”
“That asshole deserved it.” I felt electric. I could still feel the guy’s nose crumbling under my fist.
“She kicked him in the balls,” Craig said. “It was crazy.”
“Asshole deserved it,” I said.
“Let’s all just calm down,” Edgar said. “Fern, you’re sure you’re okay?” After she nodded her reply, he turned to me. “Are you okay, Rachel?”
“I’m fucking great,” I trilled.
“You gotta be careful,” Edgar warned. “There are some real psychos here. I’m glad me and Craig were there.”
I had to stop myself from laughing. Craig and Edgar hadn’t helped Fern. They had done nothing. Obviously I could take care of Fern and myself.
“You’re fucking tough,” Fern said to me, and I beamed. Craig nodded, and I looked away from him. I couldn’t help it, though; I felt a surge of pride that even he had to admit I’d done good.
THIRTEEN
I was pissed that I’d broken off my heel and was now hobbling, but it was so worth it. I kept replaying what had happened as Fern, Yvonne, and I made our way through the crowd to the girls’ bathroom. I kept an eye on the crowd, brazenly making eye contact, daring any of them to approach us.
In the bathroom, Fern wet some paper towels and tried to wipe the blood out of her hair.
“I can’t believe it,” Yvonne said. “Rachel, you’re an animal. That’s so cool. You beat that guy up!”
“It was amazing,” Fern said. I soaked it all in, gazing into the mirror. My makeup was smudged, but so was everyone’s. My hair frizzed and stuck out, but still looked good. My hand was starting to ache dully, and my knuckles were red. They’d probably bruise.
“Bam! Fuck you!” Yvonne punched the air in front of her, imitating me. “Damn, I wish I was that tough. I’d probably have been too chickenshit to do anything.”
“I wonder if we should get out of here,” Fern said. “I wonder if that guy will try to find us later or something.”
“Fuck that!” I said. “I’m not letting him ruin our night. What’s he going to do? Obviously he’s a fucking moron. I’d like to see him try anything with us.” I grinned.
“I guess,” Fern said, frowning. “You’re probably right.”
xXx
We watched the rest of Surgical Carnage’s set from the back of the club. My lopsided heels bothered me so much that I’d had enough. I slammed my foot against the floor over and over until the other heel broke off too. Still felt awkward, but at least now I was reasonably balanced again.
> When the concert was done, a huge swell of people made their way back out the door. The five of us joined the crowd, shuffling forward slowly.
As we reached the door, someone said, “There! There she is.”
There was a burly security guy wearing an orange shirt by the exit door, and next to him stood the tall gangly asshole from the mosh pit. His face was covered with dried blood, and his eyes were wild with anger. He was flanked by a few of his friends, who looked somewhat amused and annoyed. The guy pointed at me. “That’s her.”
The security guy looked down at me in surprise. “Her?”
“Yeah! That little bitch broke my nose.”
The security guard chuckled, and even the guy’s friends cracked up. “Really?” the security guy said, grinning. “Sweetheart, did you beat this guy up?”
I smiled. “Nope. I have no idea what happened to him.”
The bouncer turned his smile on the guy. “The little lady says no, my friend. And I’m inclined to believe her.”
“Yeah right!” the guy said. “Why would I make this up?”
“Maybe because I wouldn’t make out with you,” I improvised, rolling my eyes at the bouncer.
The guy’s friends howled, and interested onlookers started laughing too. The bouncer waved his hand at me dismissively. “Go on home,” he said to me, and then turned to the guy. “Just ’cause you can’t get lucky doesn’t give you the right to try to get this girl in trouble.” The guy started arguing like an idiot, flailing a pointed finger towards me, and I rolled my eyes again and turned my back on them. The five of us filed out of the building.
“Rachel, you are fucking amazing,” Fern said. She and Yvonne linked their arms with mine, and we made our way back to the car.