For the next 3 weeks, almost a month, Freddy Jones never saw Molly
Markowitz. He even made an effort to get there early and late to catch a
glimpse of the name that had provoked so much thought during the endless
amount of time had to wait for Mr. Frau, but he never saw her. He saw her
name on the whiteboard, written in her curvy and sloppy lettering he had
come to know, but never see her face. Clementine came in and out of working
there, but the second week she eventually quit altogether and ended up
working in a Middle Eastern restaurant that Freddy began to eat at quite
frequently late at night. Did Freddy still love Clementine? No. He doubted
it very much. But he enjoyed her company. It was entertaining. She never
seemed to run out of things to say.
Freddy finally stopped double timing his Ritalin after a catastrophic concert. He was so tired he fell asleep on stage. Besides, Freddy was tired of inspecting the world like Mr. Miagi from "The Karate Kid" did. As normal, the 16 year old found himself joining the line at Clark's Pharmacy. There always seemed to be a line, like it was an unwritten rule of physics or something. You would think after almost 16 years of having the same medication, they would just hand it to him and he would be on his way but that was never the case. He heard the familiar bell that jingled when the new automatic doors opened, and the hushed murmur of old and young people alike. All waiting for some sort of medication, or paying for a pack of condoms or what have you. The old waiting chairs were pushed up against the wall, and one was holding an elderly woman clutching her alligator skin purse. Another chair had a backpack on it. With a few key chains attached to it. Mostly beaded key chains that spelled out things like "Damn the Man." That was Freddy's favorite one he saw. Tipping his head downward he noticed that the backpack was unzipped. He crouched down to see what there was inside it, without being suspicious and actually going through it. From what he could see, there was a binder, a packet of paper and a brown paper bag. And as usual, what snapped him out of his brown nosing spree was someone's name being called in the air.
"Molly Markowitz, you're prescription's ready." The words bit through the hair like the alligator that was now an elderly woman's purse. A thin girl appeared from one of the rows and walked over to the window. Weston Clark, the owner of Clark's Pharmacy, handed the girl the white paper bag. She took it with her free hand, and balanced it on top of an issue of "Spin" magazine.
"Thank god! I can sleep again!" She said in a grateful tone, but still somewhat quiet. Clark's Pharmacy always had a hushed atmosphere about it. Sort of like Starbucks. Freddy stared even harder. It was the same thin frame that he had seen walking out of The Rehearsal Hall. The girl took the backpack from the waiting chair and stuffed both the magazine and her white paper bag into her backpack, zipped it up and threw it onto her back. Freddy watched her leave. There was a cougar patch sewn onto the front pocket. It took him a minute, but he put two and two together. He broke out of line, shoved his prescription paper in his pocket and started after the girl. He had known Molly Markowitz for close to 6 years. He had invited her to Battle of the Bands when he was in fifth grade. Her name wasn't Dolly, like he had thought so many years ago, it was Molly. This was the singing, public school attending insomniac that had nearly caught Freddy looking at scantily clad ladies 6 years ago.
"Wait, Wait, You're Molly Markowitz?!" Freddy asked loudly as he rushed out of the store and jogged down the block to catch up with her. She stopped and turned around.
"Yeah. I am." She replied, sticking her hands into the pockets of her jeans. They were just slightly oversized and baggy, especially around her knees, where there was a black and white checkered patch sewn on. A lot of pants were like that with Molly. She was a pretty tiny girl.
"Hi!" Freddy said, shoving his hands into the back pockets of his yellow and black plaid pants.
"I uh, don't mean to be rude or anything...but who the hell are you?" Molly asked with a somewhat awkward laugh.
"Oh. Oh!" He said, extending his hand to Molly. Why was he such a spaz-case sometimes? "Fredrick Jones, err, Freddy. Freddy. I'm Freddy Jones. We've met before. A few times, actually."
Molly scrunched her black eyebrows trying to remember. There was little to no sign of recognition for a while.
"Drummer? A.D.H.D?" Freddy said, trying to ring a bell. Molly threw her purple colored fingernails up to her mouth.
"Oh! Yeah! You invited me to The Battle of the Bands back in like, 5th grade." She said with a somewhat embarrassed smile, curling her hair behind her ear. Freddy nodded brightly.
"It turns out we go to a lot of the same places. Clark's and The Rehearsal Hall. You've got rehearsal's the same time that I do." Freddy said. Molly knew about Freddy and the fact that he came to The Rehearsal Hall every Thursday and Friday at 3:15 PM with Stan Frau. She and Clementine had constant conversations about him, especially while Clementine and Freddy were dating. She never told Clem, but Molly always envied her and her ability to land a wonderful boyfriend.
"Really? Go figure! Small fuckin' world, huh?" Molly said, looping her thumbs into the belt loops of her pants. She tossed back her head again to pull her hair from her view. Her hair was short, and jet black and styled like a 40's flapper. Freddy studied her for a minute. It was the same girl that he had known so many years ago. The same freckles and shy smile, no matter how outgoing her language was.
"So did you end up going to the Battle of the Bands, Molly?" Freddy asked as he finished taking in her aged face. He didn't want to seem too much like a stalker.
"Yeah. I did," Molly said quietly, quite embarrassed. Her smile was half hidden as she bit her bottom lip. Out of habit, she reached up and pulled on the zipper to her black sweatshirt. The same one that she wore to vocal lessons all the time. Her Reggie and The Full Effect sweatshirt. "I never got a chance to thank you."
Freddy looked confused. "For what?"
"I had to sneak out to go see you at The Battle of the Bands. I got in so much trouble. But you introduced me to Punk Rock. As retarded as it sounds, you kind of made me who I am today. If it wasn't for you and School of Rock, I'd probably be listening to Enya right now and doing quantum psychics."
"Wow. Really? How come you didn't come back and say Hi? I would have known you."
"Oh, well, you see, I did. But you were so happy celebrating your encore I didn't want to ruin it. The last thing you needed was some weird public school chick cramping your style." Molly said. Oh god, I just used the words cramp-your-style. Molly thought.
Freddy ran a hand through his spikes. It hit him almost like a ton of bricks. "Wow, really? That's...amazing. I don't think I've ever heard a story like that. Fucking rad, man."
"Yeah. So, thanks." Molly smiled and ran her heads through her hair.
"Hey, Molly, do you wanna go get some coffee or something?" Freddy asked, raising his eyebrows on high. Molly looked excited for a minute, but then dug her hands into her pockets and pulled out a chord with a tag around the neck.
"I really wish I could, Freddy Jones, but I've gotta go to work," Molly looked equally as disappointed as Freddy. "But stop by today or something. I work the afternoon to night shifts. Until about 6ish usually. I'll catch you at Flipside, alright?" She grinned so friendly and welcome that her teeth sparkled. Freddy nodded and watched Molly wander down the block and to a white car where she stopped, looked back and gave a wave to Freddy.
Freddy finally stopped double timing his Ritalin after a catastrophic concert. He was so tired he fell asleep on stage. Besides, Freddy was tired of inspecting the world like Mr. Miagi from "The Karate Kid" did. As normal, the 16 year old found himself joining the line at Clark's Pharmacy. There always seemed to be a line, like it was an unwritten rule of physics or something. You would think after almost 16 years of having the same medication, they would just hand it to him and he would be on his way but that was never the case. He heard the familiar bell that jingled when the new automatic doors opened, and the hushed murmur of old and young people alike. All waiting for some sort of medication, or paying for a pack of condoms or what have you. The old waiting chairs were pushed up against the wall, and one was holding an elderly woman clutching her alligator skin purse. Another chair had a backpack on it. With a few key chains attached to it. Mostly beaded key chains that spelled out things like "Damn the Man." That was Freddy's favorite one he saw. Tipping his head downward he noticed that the backpack was unzipped. He crouched down to see what there was inside it, without being suspicious and actually going through it. From what he could see, there was a binder, a packet of paper and a brown paper bag. And as usual, what snapped him out of his brown nosing spree was someone's name being called in the air.
"Molly Markowitz, you're prescription's ready." The words bit through the hair like the alligator that was now an elderly woman's purse. A thin girl appeared from one of the rows and walked over to the window. Weston Clark, the owner of Clark's Pharmacy, handed the girl the white paper bag. She took it with her free hand, and balanced it on top of an issue of "Spin" magazine.
"Thank god! I can sleep again!" She said in a grateful tone, but still somewhat quiet. Clark's Pharmacy always had a hushed atmosphere about it. Sort of like Starbucks. Freddy stared even harder. It was the same thin frame that he had seen walking out of The Rehearsal Hall. The girl took the backpack from the waiting chair and stuffed both the magazine and her white paper bag into her backpack, zipped it up and threw it onto her back. Freddy watched her leave. There was a cougar patch sewn onto the front pocket. It took him a minute, but he put two and two together. He broke out of line, shoved his prescription paper in his pocket and started after the girl. He had known Molly Markowitz for close to 6 years. He had invited her to Battle of the Bands when he was in fifth grade. Her name wasn't Dolly, like he had thought so many years ago, it was Molly. This was the singing, public school attending insomniac that had nearly caught Freddy looking at scantily clad ladies 6 years ago.
"Wait, Wait, You're Molly Markowitz?!" Freddy asked loudly as he rushed out of the store and jogged down the block to catch up with her. She stopped and turned around.
"Yeah. I am." She replied, sticking her hands into the pockets of her jeans. They were just slightly oversized and baggy, especially around her knees, where there was a black and white checkered patch sewn on. A lot of pants were like that with Molly. She was a pretty tiny girl.
"Hi!" Freddy said, shoving his hands into the back pockets of his yellow and black plaid pants.
"I uh, don't mean to be rude or anything...but who the hell are you?" Molly asked with a somewhat awkward laugh.
"Oh. Oh!" He said, extending his hand to Molly. Why was he such a spaz-case sometimes? "Fredrick Jones, err, Freddy. Freddy. I'm Freddy Jones. We've met before. A few times, actually."
Molly scrunched her black eyebrows trying to remember. There was little to no sign of recognition for a while.
"Drummer? A.D.H.D?" Freddy said, trying to ring a bell. Molly threw her purple colored fingernails up to her mouth.
"Oh! Yeah! You invited me to The Battle of the Bands back in like, 5th grade." She said with a somewhat embarrassed smile, curling her hair behind her ear. Freddy nodded brightly.
"It turns out we go to a lot of the same places. Clark's and The Rehearsal Hall. You've got rehearsal's the same time that I do." Freddy said. Molly knew about Freddy and the fact that he came to The Rehearsal Hall every Thursday and Friday at 3:15 PM with Stan Frau. She and Clementine had constant conversations about him, especially while Clementine and Freddy were dating. She never told Clem, but Molly always envied her and her ability to land a wonderful boyfriend.
"Really? Go figure! Small fuckin' world, huh?" Molly said, looping her thumbs into the belt loops of her pants. She tossed back her head again to pull her hair from her view. Her hair was short, and jet black and styled like a 40's flapper. Freddy studied her for a minute. It was the same girl that he had known so many years ago. The same freckles and shy smile, no matter how outgoing her language was.
"So did you end up going to the Battle of the Bands, Molly?" Freddy asked as he finished taking in her aged face. He didn't want to seem too much like a stalker.
"Yeah. I did," Molly said quietly, quite embarrassed. Her smile was half hidden as she bit her bottom lip. Out of habit, she reached up and pulled on the zipper to her black sweatshirt. The same one that she wore to vocal lessons all the time. Her Reggie and The Full Effect sweatshirt. "I never got a chance to thank you."
Freddy looked confused. "For what?"
"I had to sneak out to go see you at The Battle of the Bands. I got in so much trouble. But you introduced me to Punk Rock. As retarded as it sounds, you kind of made me who I am today. If it wasn't for you and School of Rock, I'd probably be listening to Enya right now and doing quantum psychics."
"Wow. Really? How come you didn't come back and say Hi? I would have known you."
"Oh, well, you see, I did. But you were so happy celebrating your encore I didn't want to ruin it. The last thing you needed was some weird public school chick cramping your style." Molly said. Oh god, I just used the words cramp-your-style. Molly thought.
Freddy ran a hand through his spikes. It hit him almost like a ton of bricks. "Wow, really? That's...amazing. I don't think I've ever heard a story like that. Fucking rad, man."
"Yeah. So, thanks." Molly smiled and ran her heads through her hair.
"Hey, Molly, do you wanna go get some coffee or something?" Freddy asked, raising his eyebrows on high. Molly looked excited for a minute, but then dug her hands into her pockets and pulled out a chord with a tag around the neck.
"I really wish I could, Freddy Jones, but I've gotta go to work," Molly looked equally as disappointed as Freddy. "But stop by today or something. I work the afternoon to night shifts. Until about 6ish usually. I'll catch you at Flipside, alright?" She grinned so friendly and welcome that her teeth sparkled. Freddy nodded and watched Molly wander down the block and to a white car where she stopped, looked back and gave a wave to Freddy.
