Okay, this is the second part of the fic, so...yeah. I realized if I made it a "one shot" that it was way too long...so, yeah.
Part Two
A week before the end of the school year, Tomika turned her paper in. She only read it over once in order to correct a few grammer errors, but she didn't rewrite anything. It was perfect the way it was, rough and to the point. Even so, it was five pages over the minimum limit.
It read:
I never had any real friends. I mean, my mom and dad were there--sorta--for me, in between business trips, meetings that went late into the night, and supervising projects. The teachers were okay--but I guess it was because I was bigger than most of them. But my fellow classmates...they hardly ever spoke to me. In the halls, they got out of my path and whispered to each other about me.
"Hey, new kid, that's Tomika over there and don't get on her bad side 'coz she might body slam you," I heard someone whisper once.
I hated Horace Green. Everyone was so busy with their little worlds, obsessing about how much money their parents made. They didn't know about the real world. My parents worked hard for their money. Even in today's society, it's the rich, white, balding male Republicans that ruled the world. My mom had to be one tough kid to get where she is. She notices everything...except me. Dad was always going to another state to defend someone important and when he was home, he was always shut up in his library or whatever. Mom had to take his dinner to him practically every night--that is, when she was home. It was usually our housekeeper, Danielle, that delivered the nightly meal.
Danielle was probably the only person that took care of me. She was in her fifties or so and she had five kids (the youngest was a senior at Horace Green High when I was in fifth grade). She'd been with the family since I was three. She told me that she came because Melanie, her middle kid, was going to Europe and they needed the extra money. She told me that after that, she just wanted to stay. I didn't know why, until the beginning of my sixth year in grade school. I told her everything, from my favorite color to my ambitions. She really supported my singing...more than my parents did.
Anyway, back to school.
Fourth grade was hell. No on spoke to me, except to know what was for lunch, but it was the teacher, Mrs. Reyo, that truly made it horrid. She made me write this report on obesity. Smething about realizing the disease that I had. I was so...angry. It wasn't ordinary anger when there's just a small flame behind your eyes, either. It was like someone posessed me or something and being blinded by giant red spots. I faked sick the week after I turned the project in so that I wouldn't have to present it. When I told Danielle about the project the Friday after I turned it in, she was furious. I think she would have marched right over to the school and give Mrs. Reyo a piece of her mind if she wasn't making Dad's lunch.
Then fifth grade came and my life changed.
It started out like any other year. Everyone got along quite well. A few of us clashed a few times over who had the better notes and stupid stuff like that. But after winter break, Mr. Schneebly came. He started the band. I often joke with the others about the very first bonding moment the class had with him (the whole turkey sub episode, which caused him to "lovingly" dub me "turkey sub").
At first, when I was assigned a "roadie", I was pretty down. When Marta and Alicia were assigned the back up singers, that just made me feel worse. But, why should I try? I was too fat, remember? But I wanted to do something that I knew how to do. Not just lug heavy objects arounds.
I secretly watched them, quietly learning the harmony. It hurt, though. It really hurt. I guess it was my desire to not be seen as a roadie...just someone that's good for physical jobs. I wanted to let them hear my voice. So, about a week after it all started, I stayed after class. I was sort of nervous, but I went up to Mr. S. It was weird because I never even told my parents about singing, and there I was, walking up to the kind of grumpy substitute that I barely knew. He started to ramble about how I wouldn't be a back up singer if I couldn't sing. THen, I just opened my mouth and sang the fisrst thing that came to mind. One of the best moments I had ever had.
I thought It's okay, when I finished. He was basically awestruck. He said I was on and I took the CD he gave me. Mr. S. thought I was great. He didn't even look at my fatness or my chubby cheeks...my voice was heard. I was so happy. My life at the torture chamber was slowly changing for the better.
The next morning, I practically ran to school (which is something, because I hate gym to death). Mom had already left for work, and Dad was--I didn't care. I just wanted to get there as fast as possible. Danielle was surprised to see me racing out the front door when she walked in. I think she yelled that she would take me to school. I couldn't hear anything correctly at the moment.
Two blocks from school, I slowed to a walk. Nobody at Horace Green walked to school. They had chaffeurs and housekeepers to drive them to school. Some of them rode the bus when all three cars in the family broke down or just to make fun of the public school kids that walked. I enjoyed walking--and still do. It gave me time to think and hum little tunes under my breath.
As my right foot came to a rest at the bottom of the front steps of Horace Green, the warning bell rang, announcing that school would be in session in ten minutes. Sighing, I trudged up the stairs and down the hall. I decided to stop by my locker, to replenish my binder because I was running low on paper. I then marched into the classroom. Most of the class was already there. Dewey, of course, was late. He burst in five minutes after the second bell, signaling the start of the school day, rang, his forehead shining with sweat.
"Rock...and...Roll...po--sit--tions," he panted, leaning his hands on his knees, greedily gulping in air.
Zack and Freddy dragged the drumset out of the closet, Katie tuned her bass, and Marta and Alicia leaned against the back counter expectantly. All the others took their seats and started to work on individual projects Dewey had assigned. Summer, the band manager, walked over with her beloved clipboard in hand.
"Are you the new back up?" she asked, looking at her clipboard.
I nodded.
"Well, get over there," she jerked her head at the other two.
I shuffled my feet hesitantly.
"Oh, come on," she tucked her pen behind her ear and dragged me over to the other two.
"Hey Summer, Tomika," greeted Alicia.
"What's up?" Marta asked brightly.
"Tomika's a new back up singer," started Summer.
"We know," interrupted Marta, "I meant about Dewey."
I looked over my shouder and saw that he was sitting on the floor, muttering to himself.
Summer sighed impatiently and stalked over to him.
"You're...you're not angry?" I asked, uncertain of my words.
"Angry?" repeated Alicia. "Why would we be angry?"
"Er...well, I'm kinda invading your little group and...?" I trailed off because of lack of argument.
"Okay, I was a bit pissed before, because I had to come back to get my binder and my locker's not far from the classroom, so I kinda heard it....wow. If I had your voice, I'd move to L.A." Alicia looked at me with this weird expression. Respect?
I shuffled in place. It was really awkward. I thought they were going to try and offend me or something. I was mentally unbalanced because of the unexpected compliment.
"Anyway, the person we should be pissed at is Mr. S for not being a better gym student," Marta added. "He really sucks at running."
"I heard that!" said Mr. S.
I smiled as he came over and we started to rehearse.
After that, school was more bearable...even great! Alicia, Marta, and I were becoming great friends. We worked on dance movements for each song, and, even thought i was all we did every day, we sang. Not just back up parts to the band's songs, but also songs from out CDs. I invited them over the week after school let out for summer break. It was the best day ever! Danielle let us take over the third floor living room. We kareoked and watch movies. Then we got out the DVD that Marco made when we were practicing some months back. We watched it and I nid behind my pillow everytime it zoomed in on the three of us.
Back to pre-summer and when we went to try out for the Battle of the Bands.
Then came the day when we were going to audition for the Battle of the Bands. It was weird. I mean, weirder than that dream that I had of Aunt Josie turning into a purple donkey. The other bands were giving me weird looks and I could feel my breakfast coming back up. I told Mr. S that I couldn't do it and he made me feel better by ticking off the number of music legends that were...well, fat. He also admitted that he had a weight problem. When I suggested dieting, he looked at me as if my head was on backwards and informed me that he liked eating. After that, I was proud of myself. I wouldn't be me if I was weak and skinny like Eleni or Marta--they're sweet and nice, but that wasn't me. I was tough and distant. And that was what made me Tomika.
We almost didn't get into the competition, though. Stupid Freddy Jones, our drummer, was trying to act "punk" by following another band and playing cards with the pack of alcohol consuming, cigarette smoking punk wanna bes. He is so full of himself. Even Michelle has more brains then him, at times. Fortunately, Summer's brilliance made up for Jones's brief moment of stupidity. We faked a rare "disease", Mr. S convinced the competition committee people to let us compete, and they agreed.
After that, we worked extra hard. Summer gave Mr. S the idea of making us understand music better by studying artists. Well, since we had a little over a week before the whole thing was going to take place, Mr. S brought in half a dozen videos to show us. We went through most of them that day, but Freddy, Zack, Lawrence, and Katie stayed after school in order to review them. I heard that Freddy didn't get off campus until about 5 P.M. That was how life changing this band was. I mean, Freddy was usually the first kid out of the classroom at the end of the day. Naturally the rest of the class was in a state of shock when we heard that he voluntarily stayed in a classroom for two extra hours.
The day before the Battle of the Bands, Mr. S's true color came out. He wasn't Ned Schneebly. He was Dewey Finn. We were really shocked and hurt. He had used us to try to win some competition. Plus he lied when he told us about the "top secret project" just to get us to play.
Even so, during class the next day, the idiot administrators left a class of...well, punkified fifth graders in a classroom without supervision. Zack was really down, and Freddy didn't help much by saying it was all fake--but he did have a point when he said it was the best three weeks he had ever had. Then he ruined his moment of genius by threatening to beat Lawrence up when our keyboarder pointed out that it wasn't a complete waste of time. I don't know what came over me, but I snapped. Maybe it was because I wanted to do what we had spent the past month preparing for. Maybe I wanted to shut Jones's face. Maybe it was because I knew Lawerence would never fight back. All I know is that I threatened to shove those drumsticks of Freddy's down his throat if he laid a finger on Lawrence.
After my outburst and "inspirational" speech that followed, we all agreed to go play anyway. We sneaked out of the classroom (which really wasn't that hard) and got on the bus that Dewey had reserved. When old Mr. Thompson (the driver) asked for Dewey, Mr. S, Summer did some quick thinking and told him that we had to pick our teacher up.
Lawrence and Freddy were the ones that we sent up to the apartment. I was rather relieved that it wasn't me because, for all we knew, Dewey could have been running around dressed like a monkey. Some of the guys hopped on top of the bus, watching the apartment expectantly. I was standing on the curb, Marta and Alicia were hanging out the window, and Mr. Thompson was glaring at us in turn. Dewey's face appeared in his apartment window and we started to yell and motion him down. He said something, and then his face disappeared, replaced by Lawrence's, who gave up two thumbs up. We all cheered. Mr. Thompson then told us to stop making a racket.
On the bus, Dewey started a speech about how badly he treated us, lying to us and making us do what he wanted and stuff. That speech was really depressing. We all listened to him as he apologized...until Summer told him to shut up so we could get to the competition. With that, we were all hyped up again.
We arrived a few minutes before our performance. My heart was going so fast and I tried to go over the lines of all the songs, but I just got them all mixed up. This heightened my nerves.
Dewey called us for our final meeting before we had to go on stage. He told us we were going to sing the one that Zack wrote...the one that I had a solo in. After that I stopped listening. Alicia, Marta, and I got together and ran over the stuff we were going to sing. They listened to my solo one last time and then...we were on.
The lights were dark on stage, so we could all see into the crowd. The huge mass of people were parting somewhere in the middle and a line of adults marched through. My eyes widened.
"Oh, crap," whispered Marta, "that's my mom and dad."
"Mine too," muttered Alicia as she adjusted her microphone stand.
I spotted three familiar figures and gulped. It was my mom, dad, and Danielle. I took a deep breath. Those three were here. Hopefully Mom and Dad wouldn't lose it when I started to sing. After all, the last time I sang to them was for my Christmas pagent in second grade.
But I also wanted to make them proud. I wanted them to beam with pride and recognize me for my accomplishments, rather than my skirt size.
Dewey introduced the song, obviously having spot the less than pleased adults. I noted that Mr. Mooneyham, Zack's dad, looked up in surprise. Apparently, he didn't know that Zack could write songs or something. Anyway, I gave the other two reassuring pats on the back and pulled my microphone up to suit my height.
And so it began...for real. Dewey started and the rest joined in. It was flawess. I was beaming with pride. Our parents were shocked--I guess none of us revealed to them our new found talent. Their frowns faded away and were replaced by surpirsed smiles.
My heart was racing then. My solo was coming up. Marta tugged on my sleeve and I leaned over right during Dewey's "face melting" guitar solo.
"Blow their brains out," she whispered.
Alicia nodded encouragingly as I pulled the microphone off the stand and walked forward. It was amazing! When the light was one me, all my nerves were washed away. I sang my heart out and saw Mom...she exchanged this "wow, I've never been prouder of anyone!" sort of look with Dad. Both my families, school and home, were smiling so hard, the glare of their enamel reflecting grins was blinding.
When I was done, I stepped back to the other three. Marta and Alicia almost fan forward to hug me. But then Freddy hissed at us to get a grip until the song was over.
When we got off the stage, it was chaos...in a good way. We were running back and forth praising each other. Ms. Mullins, the principal, appeared and I thought she was going to haul Dewey off to the police station. Surprisingly, she complimented us all, informed Dewey that she was furious at him, and then went back to the praises. Very strange woman, that Ms. Mullins.
We were so proud of each other, it was hilarious. Marta was jumping up and down, yelling at the top of her lungs about our greatness. Freddy told her to cool it, but then she hopped on his back, still screaming at the top of her lungs. Alicia and I were hugging any random person that was within ten feet. Everyone else were high-fiving each other and exchanging praises.
"Hey, turkey sub!" I turned to acknowledge Dewey's hail. "Mind blowing solo!"
I felt my face burn red. "It was..." I started.
"If you're goning to say that it was nothing, I'm gonna get all the Q-tips in the world and clean out your ears!"Alicia said warningly.
"...the best thing ever!" I finished.
Everyone cheered and crowded around me. Then we all went to look around the place since we didn't have time before. Freddy and Zack met up with some other bands and they were shocked to find that we were still in elementary school. Some creepy dude from No Vacancy started to hit on Ms. Mullins and she had no clue. All the girls hung out, talking about stuff, except for Summer, who went to talk to some of the other band managers, who were easily twice her height and three times her age. I listened quietly to the others.. Apparently we were the last band and the judges were debating on who should win.
I knew that everything would be okay, even then we lost to that other band, No Vacancy. I was so happy that we rocked the house that it really didn't matter. Dewey took it hard, though. Then we started to tick off the greatest punk bands that didn't get recognized for their genius. He went back to good old Dewey after that. Anyway, I figured that we wouldn't win. Not because of lack of confidence in the band, but because we were a pack of fifth graders that rocked and rather than put the other bands to shame, the judges probably decided to choose No Vacancy because they had been working longer than us. I 've developed so many theories as to why we didn't win that they've filled half of Summer's notebooks.
Then it came. The crowd was chanting "School of Rock" over and over again. We were just standing there, wondering why our band name was being yelled repeatedly. Dewey the informed us that it was an encore and for us to get on stage. The little fifth graders came out of us and we did as he said--not just the band either--all of us. Realizing his mistake, he tried to call the crew back, but they were all on stage by then. Dewey then hurried after us and spoke to the crowd as No Vacancy left the stage with their check. He then whispered to us what song we were going to perform ("It's a Long Way to the Top").
After that song, and after we packed out stuff up (or changed into our normal clothes) I met Mom, Dad, and Danielle at the exit. The others filed past, giving me quick hugs. Dewey asked if I was coming and my parents told him that I'd be there in a minute. He shrugged and looked around. All of our parents were there and they were telling their kids how proud they were. So he got on the bus and Ms. Mullins followed and those two started to talk about something.
It was weird. I hadn't really spoken to Dad in months. Sure, I said the "good morning"s and "good night"s, but...it wasn't a real father-daughter conversation. Mom and I had more bonding moments, but she'd been so wrapped up with her latest project (I think it was something about designing a mansion for the Japanese ambassador or something) that we barely spoke because of the long meeting and hours on the design--interior and exterior.
Mom ran forward and gave me a rib crushing hug. Dad patted my heard awkwardly, saying, "We're so proud of you, honey."
"Why didn't you tell us that you could sing like that?" asked Mom as I grinned into her shoulder.
"Well, I tried..."
"Oh, I'm sorry, honey," whispered Mom.
"You're grounded, though, for running away from school," added Danielle.
I stared at her in surprise.
"Hey, just because he performed in public for the first time doesn't mean you can't be punished."
"Now Danielle, Mary and I are the parents, so we'll do the punishing," said Dad.
Danielle sighed and stepped back.
I don't know if it was the adreneline from the performance or Dad telling me her was proud of me, but I pulled out of Mom's embrace.
"Mom, Dad," I looked at them in turn. "What's my favorite color?"
Mom gave me a werid look before answering. "Pink."
I gave a sigh of defeat. "Blue, Mom."
"Why are we talking about your favorite color?" asked Dad.
"Because," I paused, trying to find the right words. "Okay. Mom, you're a great designer, clothes and building," she beamed at me. I continued, "Dad you're a great lawyer," he grinned. "But you two are so wrapped up with your careers that you don't pay attention to your suroundings."
The pleased expressions slid off their faces. Dad seemed pretty angry.
"Young lady," he started in his "courtroom" voice, "don't you speak to up like that. We work to keep a roof over--!"
"Yeah, but you don't just work," I interrupted angrily. "You're obsessed! You don't even have time to come downstairs to have dinner, which wouldn't take more than half an hour!" Everyone was staring at us by now, but I didn't care. I was finally getting the chance to get through to them.
"I think this band is getting to your head."
"Dad, wake up! I almost didn't become a back up singer. Why? Because no one supported me. No one listened...except for Danielle!"
"Young lady--!"
"Dave."
I looked at Mom. She was staring at her shoes, as though she was...ashamed?
"She's right," whispered my mother.
"Mary," he whispered.
"We haven't changed since college. I wasn't sure if getting married and having a baby was the right path, but I was young and in love," she looked at me with a sad smile. "But I after I had you, I was sure it was the right way to go. It was the best four years of my life. Then Danielle came and I figured that she could take care of you for me while I worked." Mom looked at Danielle with an air of approval. "You did well."
Our housekeeper--my nanny--blushed. "No, you did."
Mom forced a laugh. "I wish I could turn that clock back to do it right."
"But you can," urged the former. "You can start now."
Mom looked at me. "I promise to set work on the second peg of my priority ladder and to spend more time with my daughter."
"Me too," nodded Dad.
I ran at the two and really embraced them.
"See," said Danielle, "it's not the size or the skin color, Tomika, it's the heart that is truly seen in the end."
Well, Mrs. B., Danielle left us about six months after the Battle of the Bands. She would have left after it, knowing that I was in good hands, but the only thing Mom could cook at the time were eggs--and even then, they weren't all that great. Both my parents kept their promises and we have meals together on a daily basis. Dad goes on less trips and Mom turns down jobs if they get in the way of family. We go on trips and stuff at least once a month to get away from the stress of life. They even let my have my friends over once a week! It's the best. Mom and Billy, our band stylist, have become the best of friends. Mom gives him tips on our outfits (which have become less "glitter and glam" since, thank God). Dad's been great, too. Turns out, he was a bit of a computer geek--er--whiz back in high school. He discusses the management of the band with Summer and gives the security and roadies loads of ideas and tips.
All my friends think my parents are awesome, and I guess they are. Sure, Mom embarasses me when we have to go shopping. And, sure, they have arguments about whether or not I'm allowed to drive my friends to the movies. They're still together, unlike most of my friends' parents. Divorce is considered "normal" in a rich society. I guess my family isn't normal, then.
Another thing, Danielle. I still see her. Heck, I visit her apartment practically every other day. She's visited us a lot over the past four years. I thought Dad was going to slam the door in her face after her fifth visit in a month, but they consider her family. My family's evolved so much over the past half decade, and I couldn't be happier.
And my other family is just a strong. The School of Rock celebrated its fifth birthday back in February. We're a circle of firneds that have been together since the beginning and our bonds are stronger than the toughest super glue out there. Some things never change, like Dewey's exaggerated sayings and speeches. There have been a lot of change, though. Freddy's quieter (sort of), Katie and Zack are a bit more social, Summer (believe it or not) has loosened up a bit, and the groupies (Eleni and Michelle) have a new title, "The Mind Blowing, Gut Busting Commercial Geniuses" (their parents didn't quite approve the "groupies" thing)--they now design and make T-shirts, cups, pens, etc. to help promote the band.
The development of the band has done so many things to me, it's not funny. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, reread the paper!
"It's not the size or the skin color...it's the heart that is truly seen in the end."
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There you have it, my little muffins! My first SOR fic...which is basically the recap of the movie and what I think happened afterwards. A bit off at times, but i tried to stick to the story. Please REVIEW!!! PLEASE!!! And to all those who rock...or are fat...I salute you!
Farfanugans,
Chikin Wang
Part Two
A week before the end of the school year, Tomika turned her paper in. She only read it over once in order to correct a few grammer errors, but she didn't rewrite anything. It was perfect the way it was, rough and to the point. Even so, it was five pages over the minimum limit.
It read:
I never had any real friends. I mean, my mom and dad were there--sorta--for me, in between business trips, meetings that went late into the night, and supervising projects. The teachers were okay--but I guess it was because I was bigger than most of them. But my fellow classmates...they hardly ever spoke to me. In the halls, they got out of my path and whispered to each other about me.
"Hey, new kid, that's Tomika over there and don't get on her bad side 'coz she might body slam you," I heard someone whisper once.
I hated Horace Green. Everyone was so busy with their little worlds, obsessing about how much money their parents made. They didn't know about the real world. My parents worked hard for their money. Even in today's society, it's the rich, white, balding male Republicans that ruled the world. My mom had to be one tough kid to get where she is. She notices everything...except me. Dad was always going to another state to defend someone important and when he was home, he was always shut up in his library or whatever. Mom had to take his dinner to him practically every night--that is, when she was home. It was usually our housekeeper, Danielle, that delivered the nightly meal.
Danielle was probably the only person that took care of me. She was in her fifties or so and she had five kids (the youngest was a senior at Horace Green High when I was in fifth grade). She'd been with the family since I was three. She told me that she came because Melanie, her middle kid, was going to Europe and they needed the extra money. She told me that after that, she just wanted to stay. I didn't know why, until the beginning of my sixth year in grade school. I told her everything, from my favorite color to my ambitions. She really supported my singing...more than my parents did.
Anyway, back to school.
Fourth grade was hell. No on spoke to me, except to know what was for lunch, but it was the teacher, Mrs. Reyo, that truly made it horrid. She made me write this report on obesity. Smething about realizing the disease that I had. I was so...angry. It wasn't ordinary anger when there's just a small flame behind your eyes, either. It was like someone posessed me or something and being blinded by giant red spots. I faked sick the week after I turned the project in so that I wouldn't have to present it. When I told Danielle about the project the Friday after I turned it in, she was furious. I think she would have marched right over to the school and give Mrs. Reyo a piece of her mind if she wasn't making Dad's lunch.
Then fifth grade came and my life changed.
It started out like any other year. Everyone got along quite well. A few of us clashed a few times over who had the better notes and stupid stuff like that. But after winter break, Mr. Schneebly came. He started the band. I often joke with the others about the very first bonding moment the class had with him (the whole turkey sub episode, which caused him to "lovingly" dub me "turkey sub").
At first, when I was assigned a "roadie", I was pretty down. When Marta and Alicia were assigned the back up singers, that just made me feel worse. But, why should I try? I was too fat, remember? But I wanted to do something that I knew how to do. Not just lug heavy objects arounds.
I secretly watched them, quietly learning the harmony. It hurt, though. It really hurt. I guess it was my desire to not be seen as a roadie...just someone that's good for physical jobs. I wanted to let them hear my voice. So, about a week after it all started, I stayed after class. I was sort of nervous, but I went up to Mr. S. It was weird because I never even told my parents about singing, and there I was, walking up to the kind of grumpy substitute that I barely knew. He started to ramble about how I wouldn't be a back up singer if I couldn't sing. THen, I just opened my mouth and sang the fisrst thing that came to mind. One of the best moments I had ever had.
I thought It's okay, when I finished. He was basically awestruck. He said I was on and I took the CD he gave me. Mr. S. thought I was great. He didn't even look at my fatness or my chubby cheeks...my voice was heard. I was so happy. My life at the torture chamber was slowly changing for the better.
The next morning, I practically ran to school (which is something, because I hate gym to death). Mom had already left for work, and Dad was--I didn't care. I just wanted to get there as fast as possible. Danielle was surprised to see me racing out the front door when she walked in. I think she yelled that she would take me to school. I couldn't hear anything correctly at the moment.
Two blocks from school, I slowed to a walk. Nobody at Horace Green walked to school. They had chaffeurs and housekeepers to drive them to school. Some of them rode the bus when all three cars in the family broke down or just to make fun of the public school kids that walked. I enjoyed walking--and still do. It gave me time to think and hum little tunes under my breath.
As my right foot came to a rest at the bottom of the front steps of Horace Green, the warning bell rang, announcing that school would be in session in ten minutes. Sighing, I trudged up the stairs and down the hall. I decided to stop by my locker, to replenish my binder because I was running low on paper. I then marched into the classroom. Most of the class was already there. Dewey, of course, was late. He burst in five minutes after the second bell, signaling the start of the school day, rang, his forehead shining with sweat.
"Rock...and...Roll...po--sit--tions," he panted, leaning his hands on his knees, greedily gulping in air.
Zack and Freddy dragged the drumset out of the closet, Katie tuned her bass, and Marta and Alicia leaned against the back counter expectantly. All the others took their seats and started to work on individual projects Dewey had assigned. Summer, the band manager, walked over with her beloved clipboard in hand.
"Are you the new back up?" she asked, looking at her clipboard.
I nodded.
"Well, get over there," she jerked her head at the other two.
I shuffled my feet hesitantly.
"Oh, come on," she tucked her pen behind her ear and dragged me over to the other two.
"Hey Summer, Tomika," greeted Alicia.
"What's up?" Marta asked brightly.
"Tomika's a new back up singer," started Summer.
"We know," interrupted Marta, "I meant about Dewey."
I looked over my shouder and saw that he was sitting on the floor, muttering to himself.
Summer sighed impatiently and stalked over to him.
"You're...you're not angry?" I asked, uncertain of my words.
"Angry?" repeated Alicia. "Why would we be angry?"
"Er...well, I'm kinda invading your little group and...?" I trailed off because of lack of argument.
"Okay, I was a bit pissed before, because I had to come back to get my binder and my locker's not far from the classroom, so I kinda heard it....wow. If I had your voice, I'd move to L.A." Alicia looked at me with this weird expression. Respect?
I shuffled in place. It was really awkward. I thought they were going to try and offend me or something. I was mentally unbalanced because of the unexpected compliment.
"Anyway, the person we should be pissed at is Mr. S for not being a better gym student," Marta added. "He really sucks at running."
"I heard that!" said Mr. S.
I smiled as he came over and we started to rehearse.
After that, school was more bearable...even great! Alicia, Marta, and I were becoming great friends. We worked on dance movements for each song, and, even thought i was all we did every day, we sang. Not just back up parts to the band's songs, but also songs from out CDs. I invited them over the week after school let out for summer break. It was the best day ever! Danielle let us take over the third floor living room. We kareoked and watch movies. Then we got out the DVD that Marco made when we were practicing some months back. We watched it and I nid behind my pillow everytime it zoomed in on the three of us.
Back to pre-summer and when we went to try out for the Battle of the Bands.
Then came the day when we were going to audition for the Battle of the Bands. It was weird. I mean, weirder than that dream that I had of Aunt Josie turning into a purple donkey. The other bands were giving me weird looks and I could feel my breakfast coming back up. I told Mr. S that I couldn't do it and he made me feel better by ticking off the number of music legends that were...well, fat. He also admitted that he had a weight problem. When I suggested dieting, he looked at me as if my head was on backwards and informed me that he liked eating. After that, I was proud of myself. I wouldn't be me if I was weak and skinny like Eleni or Marta--they're sweet and nice, but that wasn't me. I was tough and distant. And that was what made me Tomika.
We almost didn't get into the competition, though. Stupid Freddy Jones, our drummer, was trying to act "punk" by following another band and playing cards with the pack of alcohol consuming, cigarette smoking punk wanna bes. He is so full of himself. Even Michelle has more brains then him, at times. Fortunately, Summer's brilliance made up for Jones's brief moment of stupidity. We faked a rare "disease", Mr. S convinced the competition committee people to let us compete, and they agreed.
After that, we worked extra hard. Summer gave Mr. S the idea of making us understand music better by studying artists. Well, since we had a little over a week before the whole thing was going to take place, Mr. S brought in half a dozen videos to show us. We went through most of them that day, but Freddy, Zack, Lawrence, and Katie stayed after school in order to review them. I heard that Freddy didn't get off campus until about 5 P.M. That was how life changing this band was. I mean, Freddy was usually the first kid out of the classroom at the end of the day. Naturally the rest of the class was in a state of shock when we heard that he voluntarily stayed in a classroom for two extra hours.
The day before the Battle of the Bands, Mr. S's true color came out. He wasn't Ned Schneebly. He was Dewey Finn. We were really shocked and hurt. He had used us to try to win some competition. Plus he lied when he told us about the "top secret project" just to get us to play.
Even so, during class the next day, the idiot administrators left a class of...well, punkified fifth graders in a classroom without supervision. Zack was really down, and Freddy didn't help much by saying it was all fake--but he did have a point when he said it was the best three weeks he had ever had. Then he ruined his moment of genius by threatening to beat Lawrence up when our keyboarder pointed out that it wasn't a complete waste of time. I don't know what came over me, but I snapped. Maybe it was because I wanted to do what we had spent the past month preparing for. Maybe I wanted to shut Jones's face. Maybe it was because I knew Lawerence would never fight back. All I know is that I threatened to shove those drumsticks of Freddy's down his throat if he laid a finger on Lawrence.
After my outburst and "inspirational" speech that followed, we all agreed to go play anyway. We sneaked out of the classroom (which really wasn't that hard) and got on the bus that Dewey had reserved. When old Mr. Thompson (the driver) asked for Dewey, Mr. S, Summer did some quick thinking and told him that we had to pick our teacher up.
Lawrence and Freddy were the ones that we sent up to the apartment. I was rather relieved that it wasn't me because, for all we knew, Dewey could have been running around dressed like a monkey. Some of the guys hopped on top of the bus, watching the apartment expectantly. I was standing on the curb, Marta and Alicia were hanging out the window, and Mr. Thompson was glaring at us in turn. Dewey's face appeared in his apartment window and we started to yell and motion him down. He said something, and then his face disappeared, replaced by Lawrence's, who gave up two thumbs up. We all cheered. Mr. Thompson then told us to stop making a racket.
On the bus, Dewey started a speech about how badly he treated us, lying to us and making us do what he wanted and stuff. That speech was really depressing. We all listened to him as he apologized...until Summer told him to shut up so we could get to the competition. With that, we were all hyped up again.
We arrived a few minutes before our performance. My heart was going so fast and I tried to go over the lines of all the songs, but I just got them all mixed up. This heightened my nerves.
Dewey called us for our final meeting before we had to go on stage. He told us we were going to sing the one that Zack wrote...the one that I had a solo in. After that I stopped listening. Alicia, Marta, and I got together and ran over the stuff we were going to sing. They listened to my solo one last time and then...we were on.
The lights were dark on stage, so we could all see into the crowd. The huge mass of people were parting somewhere in the middle and a line of adults marched through. My eyes widened.
"Oh, crap," whispered Marta, "that's my mom and dad."
"Mine too," muttered Alicia as she adjusted her microphone stand.
I spotted three familiar figures and gulped. It was my mom, dad, and Danielle. I took a deep breath. Those three were here. Hopefully Mom and Dad wouldn't lose it when I started to sing. After all, the last time I sang to them was for my Christmas pagent in second grade.
But I also wanted to make them proud. I wanted them to beam with pride and recognize me for my accomplishments, rather than my skirt size.
Dewey introduced the song, obviously having spot the less than pleased adults. I noted that Mr. Mooneyham, Zack's dad, looked up in surprise. Apparently, he didn't know that Zack could write songs or something. Anyway, I gave the other two reassuring pats on the back and pulled my microphone up to suit my height.
And so it began...for real. Dewey started and the rest joined in. It was flawess. I was beaming with pride. Our parents were shocked--I guess none of us revealed to them our new found talent. Their frowns faded away and were replaced by surpirsed smiles.
My heart was racing then. My solo was coming up. Marta tugged on my sleeve and I leaned over right during Dewey's "face melting" guitar solo.
"Blow their brains out," she whispered.
Alicia nodded encouragingly as I pulled the microphone off the stand and walked forward. It was amazing! When the light was one me, all my nerves were washed away. I sang my heart out and saw Mom...she exchanged this "wow, I've never been prouder of anyone!" sort of look with Dad. Both my families, school and home, were smiling so hard, the glare of their enamel reflecting grins was blinding.
When I was done, I stepped back to the other three. Marta and Alicia almost fan forward to hug me. But then Freddy hissed at us to get a grip until the song was over.
When we got off the stage, it was chaos...in a good way. We were running back and forth praising each other. Ms. Mullins, the principal, appeared and I thought she was going to haul Dewey off to the police station. Surprisingly, she complimented us all, informed Dewey that she was furious at him, and then went back to the praises. Very strange woman, that Ms. Mullins.
We were so proud of each other, it was hilarious. Marta was jumping up and down, yelling at the top of her lungs about our greatness. Freddy told her to cool it, but then she hopped on his back, still screaming at the top of her lungs. Alicia and I were hugging any random person that was within ten feet. Everyone else were high-fiving each other and exchanging praises.
"Hey, turkey sub!" I turned to acknowledge Dewey's hail. "Mind blowing solo!"
I felt my face burn red. "It was..." I started.
"If you're goning to say that it was nothing, I'm gonna get all the Q-tips in the world and clean out your ears!"Alicia said warningly.
"...the best thing ever!" I finished.
Everyone cheered and crowded around me. Then we all went to look around the place since we didn't have time before. Freddy and Zack met up with some other bands and they were shocked to find that we were still in elementary school. Some creepy dude from No Vacancy started to hit on Ms. Mullins and she had no clue. All the girls hung out, talking about stuff, except for Summer, who went to talk to some of the other band managers, who were easily twice her height and three times her age. I listened quietly to the others.. Apparently we were the last band and the judges were debating on who should win.
I knew that everything would be okay, even then we lost to that other band, No Vacancy. I was so happy that we rocked the house that it really didn't matter. Dewey took it hard, though. Then we started to tick off the greatest punk bands that didn't get recognized for their genius. He went back to good old Dewey after that. Anyway, I figured that we wouldn't win. Not because of lack of confidence in the band, but because we were a pack of fifth graders that rocked and rather than put the other bands to shame, the judges probably decided to choose No Vacancy because they had been working longer than us. I 've developed so many theories as to why we didn't win that they've filled half of Summer's notebooks.
Then it came. The crowd was chanting "School of Rock" over and over again. We were just standing there, wondering why our band name was being yelled repeatedly. Dewey the informed us that it was an encore and for us to get on stage. The little fifth graders came out of us and we did as he said--not just the band either--all of us. Realizing his mistake, he tried to call the crew back, but they were all on stage by then. Dewey then hurried after us and spoke to the crowd as No Vacancy left the stage with their check. He then whispered to us what song we were going to perform ("It's a Long Way to the Top").
After that song, and after we packed out stuff up (or changed into our normal clothes) I met Mom, Dad, and Danielle at the exit. The others filed past, giving me quick hugs. Dewey asked if I was coming and my parents told him that I'd be there in a minute. He shrugged and looked around. All of our parents were there and they were telling their kids how proud they were. So he got on the bus and Ms. Mullins followed and those two started to talk about something.
It was weird. I hadn't really spoken to Dad in months. Sure, I said the "good morning"s and "good night"s, but...it wasn't a real father-daughter conversation. Mom and I had more bonding moments, but she'd been so wrapped up with her latest project (I think it was something about designing a mansion for the Japanese ambassador or something) that we barely spoke because of the long meeting and hours on the design--interior and exterior.
Mom ran forward and gave me a rib crushing hug. Dad patted my heard awkwardly, saying, "We're so proud of you, honey."
"Why didn't you tell us that you could sing like that?" asked Mom as I grinned into her shoulder.
"Well, I tried..."
"Oh, I'm sorry, honey," whispered Mom.
"You're grounded, though, for running away from school," added Danielle.
I stared at her in surprise.
"Hey, just because he performed in public for the first time doesn't mean you can't be punished."
"Now Danielle, Mary and I are the parents, so we'll do the punishing," said Dad.
Danielle sighed and stepped back.
I don't know if it was the adreneline from the performance or Dad telling me her was proud of me, but I pulled out of Mom's embrace.
"Mom, Dad," I looked at them in turn. "What's my favorite color?"
Mom gave me a werid look before answering. "Pink."
I gave a sigh of defeat. "Blue, Mom."
"Why are we talking about your favorite color?" asked Dad.
"Because," I paused, trying to find the right words. "Okay. Mom, you're a great designer, clothes and building," she beamed at me. I continued, "Dad you're a great lawyer," he grinned. "But you two are so wrapped up with your careers that you don't pay attention to your suroundings."
The pleased expressions slid off their faces. Dad seemed pretty angry.
"Young lady," he started in his "courtroom" voice, "don't you speak to up like that. We work to keep a roof over--!"
"Yeah, but you don't just work," I interrupted angrily. "You're obsessed! You don't even have time to come downstairs to have dinner, which wouldn't take more than half an hour!" Everyone was staring at us by now, but I didn't care. I was finally getting the chance to get through to them.
"I think this band is getting to your head."
"Dad, wake up! I almost didn't become a back up singer. Why? Because no one supported me. No one listened...except for Danielle!"
"Young lady--!"
"Dave."
I looked at Mom. She was staring at her shoes, as though she was...ashamed?
"She's right," whispered my mother.
"Mary," he whispered.
"We haven't changed since college. I wasn't sure if getting married and having a baby was the right path, but I was young and in love," she looked at me with a sad smile. "But I after I had you, I was sure it was the right way to go. It was the best four years of my life. Then Danielle came and I figured that she could take care of you for me while I worked." Mom looked at Danielle with an air of approval. "You did well."
Our housekeeper--my nanny--blushed. "No, you did."
Mom forced a laugh. "I wish I could turn that clock back to do it right."
"But you can," urged the former. "You can start now."
Mom looked at me. "I promise to set work on the second peg of my priority ladder and to spend more time with my daughter."
"Me too," nodded Dad.
I ran at the two and really embraced them.
"See," said Danielle, "it's not the size or the skin color, Tomika, it's the heart that is truly seen in the end."
Well, Mrs. B., Danielle left us about six months after the Battle of the Bands. She would have left after it, knowing that I was in good hands, but the only thing Mom could cook at the time were eggs--and even then, they weren't all that great. Both my parents kept their promises and we have meals together on a daily basis. Dad goes on less trips and Mom turns down jobs if they get in the way of family. We go on trips and stuff at least once a month to get away from the stress of life. They even let my have my friends over once a week! It's the best. Mom and Billy, our band stylist, have become the best of friends. Mom gives him tips on our outfits (which have become less "glitter and glam" since, thank God). Dad's been great, too. Turns out, he was a bit of a computer geek--er--whiz back in high school. He discusses the management of the band with Summer and gives the security and roadies loads of ideas and tips.
All my friends think my parents are awesome, and I guess they are. Sure, Mom embarasses me when we have to go shopping. And, sure, they have arguments about whether or not I'm allowed to drive my friends to the movies. They're still together, unlike most of my friends' parents. Divorce is considered "normal" in a rich society. I guess my family isn't normal, then.
Another thing, Danielle. I still see her. Heck, I visit her apartment practically every other day. She's visited us a lot over the past four years. I thought Dad was going to slam the door in her face after her fifth visit in a month, but they consider her family. My family's evolved so much over the past half decade, and I couldn't be happier.
And my other family is just a strong. The School of Rock celebrated its fifth birthday back in February. We're a circle of firneds that have been together since the beginning and our bonds are stronger than the toughest super glue out there. Some things never change, like Dewey's exaggerated sayings and speeches. There have been a lot of change, though. Freddy's quieter (sort of), Katie and Zack are a bit more social, Summer (believe it or not) has loosened up a bit, and the groupies (Eleni and Michelle) have a new title, "The Mind Blowing, Gut Busting Commercial Geniuses" (their parents didn't quite approve the "groupies" thing)--they now design and make T-shirts, cups, pens, etc. to help promote the band.
The development of the band has done so many things to me, it's not funny. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, reread the paper!
"It's not the size or the skin color...it's the heart that is truly seen in the end."
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There you have it, my little muffins! My first SOR fic...which is basically the recap of the movie and what I think happened afterwards. A bit off at times, but i tried to stick to the story. Please REVIEW!!! PLEASE!!! And to all those who rock...or are fat...I salute you!
Farfanugans,
Chikin Wang