Dewey Finn sat behind his desk. He stared across the room. There, sat a poster of the School Of Rock together on stage. He sighed, and leaned back in the chair.
"Okay. Who knows who Jimmy Hendrix is?" Dewey asked, a bored expression on his face. He knew that these kids would have no chance at knowing this.
"Wasn't he some rock guy?" asked Carl, a seven year old, grasping his guitar firmly.
"Yes, Carl. A very good rock guy too. An awesome rocker, infact! He's famous!" Dewey said, excitement building in his voice. He had an idea. "Y'all got to learn about him! Today's homework is to find out more about Hendrix. Alright? When you come back next week, you better be Hendrix experts! Go!" Dewey escorted the children out the door. Ned came out of his classroom, and escorted the younger children in his class out the door.
"Hey, Dewey. We've successfully created a school of rock!" Ned laughed, watching the children leave.
"Yeah. And now it really is a school of rock. You know what I mean?" Dewey replied. "This school focuses on rock and roll's history, and also teaches youngsters how to play rock music! It's like subbing all over again. We're making these kids into stars!"
"Have you been in touch with the gang lately? Where are they off to?" Ned asked, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.
"They're in junior high, rocking the teachers' socks off with their awesome talent!" Dewey said. "You wanna' grab a bite to eat?"
"Yeah, sure. Let's go somewhere! How about Subway?" Ned questioned, starting to get his coat.
"Sounds good. And maybe I'll check up on the band, and see what they're doing." Dewey went back into the classroom and grabbed his coat.
"I'll take a Bacon Turkey Sub, and a drink and some chips over there," Dewey ordered, standing at the counter.
"That's what the combo meal is, sir. You get all of that stuff. How about you, sir?" the lady at the counter explained, eyeing Ned. She took his order.
"Combo number five, please," Ned ordered.
"Combo number five? That's a song," Dewey laughed.
"No, actually, it was Mambo Number Five. That's a song," Ned corrected. He knew his friend was feeling a little hazy.
"Okay," said that lady at the counter. She typed on the cash register. Ned and Dewey watched their sandwiches being made.
"Oh! On wheat bread!" Dewey added, before the guy behind the lady at the counter could even grab a loaf of bread. The man nodded.
"What do you think is missing in our school, Dewey?" Ned asked, squinting his eyes with the thought.
Dewey mimicked that same face. "I don't know, Ned. But I know what you mean. I had so much fun subbing for that class, and making them into a band. It was awesome! But ever since they left, it just hasn't been the same. These kids are talented, but they just don't rock like the class I subbed for."
"I know, I know. We've lost it, Dewey. We need some really unique kids like the School Of Rock had. I mean, they were the total opposite of rockers. That's why it was fun! These students, they don't care. They are already familiar with rock, and they don't even want to listen," Ned sighed. He grabbed his finished sandwich and brought it to the table along with Dewey.
"I know, Neddy. It's like we're not doing it right, right? Before, it was so fun! Now, these kids aren't cool like Zack, or Freddy, or Lawrence, or Tomika. They're just not the same," Dewey agreed, taking a bite of his sandwich.
"I don't know, Dewey. It'll come. These kids are only in first or second grade! Their parents are paying us money to do this! I thought that's what you wanted!" Ned sighed again.
"That's not it, my friend. Even though we didn't win the Battle Of The Bands, I still felt like I was a star again. It's not about the money. It's about the rock!" Dewey shouted playfully, with his mouth full of sandwich.
"Keep it down, okay? Sooner or later, we'll have a bigger school with more teachers, more kids, and more rock," Ned said in a soft tone, noticing that a lady was staring at them.
"I don't want more teachers. I don't want a bigger school. When I taught that class, it was a small class. That's what makes it fun. There's one group to focus on. One group to make into a band! It's no fun with a bunch of six year olds running around with no care!" Dewey complained, taking another bite of his sandwich.
"Your right. We should start getting more pre-teen kids. Ones who understand what you tell them. Even better, ones who already play instruments. Kids who play classical music. That way, we can turn their worlds around and show them new culture. Show them new music. Then we'll feel like we're doing something," Ned explained, taking a bite of his sandwich.
"That's a good idea! Ned, we can put up flyers asking for kids over eight who play intruments already, right? And then, we can start a new class on Tuesday's and Thursdays for that age group!" Dewey exclaimed, standing up and throwing his wrapper away in the trash.
"Sounds good to me, Dewey," Ned nodded in acceptance. He finished his sandwich and threw everything away.
"Are you going to eat those chips?" Dewey asked, pointing at Ned's bag of chips.
"No. I'm not that hungry. I had some food during class," Ned replied, handing Dewey the bag.
"Let's go!" Dewey shouted, heading out the door. The lady stared at Dewey as he exited the building. Then she stared at Ned.
"He's a little wound up from teaching," Ned said to the lady, and walked out the door after Dewey.
"Stop! Stop! This is the place!" Dewey shouted, frantically grabbing at the steering wheel from Ned and pulling over at a screeching hault.
"Dewey! Dewey! Cut it out!" Ned screamed back at him, pulling his hand off the steering wheel.
"Sorry, man. I'm just psyched about checking in on the gang," Dewey sighed, feeling blessed for having survived such a dangerous hault.
"Dewey, just don't be upset if they don't remember you," Ned warned, opening the car door and getting out.
"Oh, they'll remember me!" Dewey assured, getting out on his side of the car and slamming the door shut. They headed in the front door of the private school for pre-teens, hoping to find the kids that had once been the School Of Rock.
The bell rang and out poured tons of teenagers, young and old. They were running out from every room. The hall was soon crowded, and Dewey and Ned felt out of place.
"Hey freak, aren't you supposed to be teaching?" asked a tall, thin teenage boy. He was staring at Ned.
"No. Actually, it's Dewey who wanted to…" Ned began, being interrupted by Dewey himself.
"Why don't you get the hell to the next class? He's not here to teach! I brought him here so I can look for some old classmates. Have you heard of Freddy Jones?" Dewey had to yell to be heard over the crowd.
"Yeah, I know him. He's a freak! His locker is down there!" The teenage boy yelled, pointing down the hall. Dewey leaned to the side to see past the crowd of people. There enough was a blond kid who looked as if he could be Freddy standing by his locker.
"Ned, stay here!" Dewey called to Ned, running through the crowd towards the kid who could possibly be Freddy Jones, the drummer in the band.
"But Dewey…" Ned began, but it was too late. A group of girls waved at Ned, laughing to themselves. Ned waved back uncomfortably.
"Freddy?" Dewey called, walking up to the boy at his locker.
"Yeah? What do you want?" Freddy asked, his head in his locker, putting away some books. Freddy turned around and gasped in shock. "Mr. S.! Hey, man!"
"Freddy! What's up?" Dewey asked, giving Freddy a high-five.
"What've you been up to?" Freddy asked, closing his locker and starting to walk down the hall, which was now clearing out.
"I've continued to teach rock to kids, along with my friend Ned. Here, I'll show you the real Mr. S.," Dewey said, walking alongside Freddy.
"What?" Freddy asked, confused.
"And then, I had to go get stitches on my knee and hands, all because of a measly little kid on a tricycle!" Ned was saying as Dewey and Freddy walked up. Ned had been talking to a group of gothic teenagers who looked pretty interested, which was rare for Ned.
"Freddy, this is Mr. S. He's my bud, and he's teaching with me. His name's Ned," Dewey said.
"Hey, Ned," Freddy said, an odd expression on his face. He shook Ned's hand.
"I was just telling these girls how I got stitches when I was about their age," Ned explained, smiling and nodding as if he had accomplished something.
Freddy laughed nervously. He didn't really know this guy, and he was a bit confused why Dewey Finn was at his school.
"Why'd you come here?" Freddy asked Ned and Dewey. He scratched his head and watched the gothic girls walked off.
"Well, we were just feeling that our school is not as fun as teaching you guys was," Dewey said. Then he squinted and looked that sentence over again. "Did that make sense?"
"Yeah. I heard you," Freddy said. "I missed those days. I had friends back then. Now I'm just an outcast. I've lost my cool. I miss being in a rock band!" Freddy admitted, showing obvious expressions of un-happiness.
"That was awesome wasn't it? We rocked, didn't we?" Dewey asked, showing that he missed those days too.
"I wasn't there to see you guys practice, but I saw you play. You really rocked!" Ned said, smiling.
"I don't think I'll ever have as much fun as I did in the band. Do you think we could do that again?" Freddy asked hopefully. He really looked like he was hating junior high.
"Well, that's the thing. I was thinking that I'd do that if anything." Dewey thought about how hard it was to get in the Battle Of The Bands. Then he thought about bringing back the band for a reunion. But then he realized that in order to do that, he'd have to give up teaching at his school and get the band members out of their school, and it would get too confusing.
"Hello? Dewey?" Freddy called, waving his hands in Dewey's face to get him out of the daze he was in.
"Yes, Freddy?" Dewey replied, coming back to earth. "I was in the zone, Freddy. In order to be a rocker and get things straight, you have to get in the zone. And guess what? You just got me out of the zone!"
Freddy didn't look too pleased. He backed up as if he were a puppy who had been scowled at by an abusive owner. "I'm sorry, man," Freddy mumbled, taking a seat on a bench in back of him. Dewey looked at Ned, and Ned looked at Dewey. Dewey had an idea.
"Alright! I'm sorry. I'm just wound up from teaching stiffs all day," Dewey apologized. He watched as Freddy's look changed. "How about this…Are you free on Saturday? I'm teaching a class on Saturday and I'd like the band to reunite their and show them how rock is supposed to be played!"
"Alright! Sounds cool. I'll be their," Freddy said, standing up from his seat and walking down the hall. "See you, Dewey!" he called back.
"Ned," Dewey began, "I think we got ourselves a little gig on Saturday! Now to find the rest of the band!" And at that, Ned and Dewey went down the hall in the other direction.