And...viola!
Chapitre tres (:
For those of you who are involved in any kind of acapella group, THIS MESSAGE IS FOR YOU: I DO NOT think that acapella is dorky. At all. In fact, I kind of love acapella. ESPECIALLY Straight No Chaser, after whom this chapter is named XD If you don't know who Straight No Chaser is, go you YouTube and type in "Straight No Chaser 12 Days of Christmas"
High-larious.
LOVE THEM.
Okay. Disclaimers. I do not own any of the following:
1) Danny Phantom
2) Ivey and the Airship by Cheryl Ammeter (WHO IS A FABULOUS AUTHOR. I KNOW HER. I LOVE HER.)
3) Straight No Chaser
4) Anything else you recognize (besides my style (swag!))
I think that's everything. Hm.
Yup. That's everything.
Hehe, I just used swag in a sentence.
Enjoy (:
All Around Us
Chapter Three: Straight No Chaser
January 4, 2012
Music can change the world because it can change people.
- Bono
"Are you telling me that you seriously want me to compete in Battle of the Bands for extra credit?"
"Well, not compete. Win."
"I'm not doing that," Sam said pointedly.
"It's the only way you can get your extra credit," Mr. Lancer said, raising his eyebrows.
"I thought you had to offer extra credit to the whole class," Sam retorted.
"I do. And I will. As soon as I finish here. I wanted to offer it to you first."
"Why?"
"Because you are a fantastic musician, Miss Manson," Sam rolled her eyes. "You are. Believe me. You could make a real difference on the quality of music that would be presented during that blasted competition. You have a very good chance of winning."
Sam stared at him. "I'm not in a band."
"So create one."
"I don't know any musicians! Jesus, the only people I hang out with around here are Danny and Tucker, and trust me, neither of them can carry a tune in a bucket. I know, I've played Rock Band with them before." Mr. Lancer shivered. "I'm sorry. But no."
"Miss Manson...please?"
Sam heaved a heavy sigh. "I wouldn't even know where to begin finding a band..."
"There are always solo musicians who show up to the preliminary sign-ups. Just...find a group there," Mr. Lancer shrugged. "With your voice and your piano skills, you'll carry whatever group you end up in."
She rolled her eyes. "So I'm just gonna show up, point to the first people I see and say 'Hey, you, you're in my band!' You honestly think that's going to work?"
"It has in the past," Mr. Lancer smiled. "I need to return to class. Feel free to stay out here and think about it as long as you like. As soon as you return, I'll inform the rest of the class." And with that, he was gone.
Sam leaned back against the wall. She rolled her head backwards and closed her eyes.
I can't be in a band!
But I need that extra credit...there's no way Penn State is gonna accept me if I have even ONE B...
She groaned. Penn State was her dream. She had decided long ago that she would do whatever was necessary to gain admittance. If Battle of the Bands was what it took...
She slipped back into the classroom and slunk back to her desk. She ignored the gazes of her classmates as she reclaimed her seat.
"What did he want now?" Danny whispered. He had swiveled around in his seat, his eyebrows knit together with concern.
"Mr. Fenton! If I may have just one second of your prescious attention," Danny whipped around in his seat, his face blushing a deep crimson. Mr. Lancer's eyes locked with Sam's. She gave him the slightest nod.
Mr. Lancer's face split into a huge grin. "Class, I wanted to make an announcement concerning Battle of the Bands. I am offering extra credit to any person in my English classes who wins the competition this year,"
A low murmur broke out among Sam's classmates. She shrunk down in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest and praying that Tucker and Danny wouldn't notice her sudden blush.
But they didn't. "Dude, we could totally make a band! I could use some extra credit!" Tucker whispered excitedly.
"Have you really forgotten about Ember's concert?" Danny whispered back, rolling his eyes. "You suck. And Sam hates music. Not exactly the best background for musicians."
Sam winced in silence.
"Uh, Mr. Lancer?" Dash asked. "Exactly how much extra credit are you planning on giving?"
Mr. Lancer smirked. "However much it takes to get the winner an A."
There was a moment of complete and utter silence, before absolute chaos broke out. "Sign me up!" People were shouting.
Great, Sam thought.
Mr. Lancer gave her a nearly imperceptible wink.
"So, Danny, are you signing up for Battle of the Bands?" Tucker asked when they were settled in the cafeteria.
"I don't know," He said thoughtfully, picking up his quesidilla and eyeing it suspiciously. "Sometimes I think these things are alive."
Sam snorted into her salad. "That's because most of the time, they are," She said, lazily pointing at it with her fork.
"Seriously, though, guys," Tucker said, ignoring their sudden off-topic conversation. "I need extra credit. I want to make a band and try out. Will you guys join me?"
"Sorry, anti-music," Sam said, not glancing up from her salad.
"Stage fright," Danny shrugged. "Maybe next time."
"Or not," A voice said behind Sam. She whipped around and found Elliot crouched down beside her. His face was just inches from hers; she jerked back in suprise.
"Elliot?" Sam half-shouted, half-gasped. She stared at him a moment longer before regaining her composure. "Wow, you must have one hell of a pair of balls to actually think you can talk to me."
He smirked. "Oh trust me, I do. You can check if you want," He wiggled his eyebrows at her in what she assumed he thought to be a sexy way. She had to fight the urge to laugh in his face.
"Barf, I'll pass." She said coolly. "Did you come over here for a reason other than insulting yourself by thinking you were actually good enough to be talking to me? Or did you just want to destroy your humongous ego?"
He laughed, unphazed by her comments. "I actually did have an ulterior motive for crashing your little lunch...party," He cast a disdainful glance at Danny and Tucker over his shining black sunglasses. "I heard Lancer was giving extra credit to whoever the winners of Battle of the Bands are. I'm in a little all-male acapella group. Actually, I'm the lead," He flashed a blinding smile at her. She suddenly thought of a cartoon character baring its' teeth. She snorted involuntarily. "I know, I know, it sounds kind of dorky, but trust me. We're really good. We kind of sound like Straight No Chaser, to give you a reference."
"I have no idea what the hell Straight No Chaser is, nor do I have any interest in learning. Did you have a point?" She asked impatiently.
"I did, as a matter of fact," He grinned again. "I was wondering if you would like to be a guest singer with us in the competition?"
She couldn't stop herself this time; she laughed in his face. "I would rather eat an entire cow." She choked through her laughs.
That seemed to wipe the grin directly off Elliot's face. "Think about it." He said quietly, slipping a card bearing his phone number under her salad bowl. He stood and walked directly out of the cafeteria without a backwards glance.
"That was so weird," Sam sighed as she turned back to Danny and Tucker. She blinked in confusion as she took in Danny's appearence: he was hunched over his plate, his hands curled into fists so tight his knuckles were white. His lips were pressed into a hard white line and a muscle in his jaw was twitching. Tucker was leaning away from him fearfully. "Why so tense?" Sam asked, a single thin eyebrow cocked.
"I'm not tense." He muttered through gritted teeth.
"Then why are you choking your quesidilla?" She asked teasingly. He glanced down and realized that the tortillas had nearly been ripped to shreds, allowing bits of chicken and sauce to pour over his fingers. He dropped the remains of his food on his plate and quickly wiped his hand off. Sam giggled behind her hand.
"That was really weird," Tucker said slowly, casting wary glances at Danny as he sat up straight again. "Totally out of the blue."
"I know," She said quietly. She had picked up his card and was turning it over in her fingers thoughtfully. "I'm gonna keep this," She said.
Danny froze. "Why?" He asked a little too sharply.
"Um, hello? Perfect pranking information?" She waved the card in front of his face. "We're never gonna have an opportunity like this again!"
He relaxed. "Oh, yeah. Pranking. Duh," He pretended to smack himself in the forehead, earning another appreciative laugh from Sam.
That night, Sam tossed and turned in her bed. She could not stop thinking about Elliot's offer to allow her in his band - no, wait, his gay-boy choir. It seemed to be the perfect opportunity to get in the competition without really having to try. Of course, she would have to fend off Elliot's irratating attempts to win her heart, but that was easy enough. He would get like that occasionally, suddenly resume his romantic pursual of Sam. Once, he even tried to win her over by pretending to be Gregor again - which earned him a solid kick where the sun don't shine. Sam smiled fondly at the memory.
Is this the answer, then? Just suck it up and join his stupid choir?
...no, there's GOT to be something better out there. Anything, really. Even Tucker's better than Elliot.
Falling asleep was easy after that decision. She would refuse Elliot's offer and let the dice fall where they may.
Sign-up for preliminary auditions were the following day after school. Sam sat in her car outside of the auditorium, waiting for the majority of the people signing up had left. The fewer people who knew she was auditioning, the better, she decided.
Finally, with five minutes left until sign-up officially closed, Sam bolted from her car. She ran inside, wind-swept and slightly breathless.
The foyer of the auditorium was nearly empty. Mr. Lancer stood behind a folding table, his arms crossed, as an odd-ball group of three teenage boys milled about in front of him. Sam recognized one of the boys as a classmate in her forensic science class, but she could not remember his name. At the sound of her enterence, though, the entire group looked up. One boy's eyes widened - in fear or in wonder, Sam couldn't tell.
"Miss Manson, so glad you made it!" Mr. Lancer said loudly. She winced.
"Will you keep it down? I don't want everyone to know I'm doing this yet."
"Um, S-Sam? Sam Manson?" The boy with the wide eyes asked timidly. He was tall, awkwardly so, but appeared to be sturdily built. His rusty ginger hair caught her eye and held it for a moment, only to lose her attention to the flash of his wire glasses in the sunlight.
"Yeah?" She answered uncertainly.
"Do you...um, I mean, we...we're a band, and...well...we were looking for a lead singer...and Mr. Lancer said that you can sing really well," Sam shot the teacher the dirtiest look she could muster, which he answered with a slick grin. "We...we were wondering if...you'd be interested in being our lead singer?" His last words came out in a rush, tumbling over each other.
"I'm sorry, what?" Sam asked.
"We were wondering if you'd be interested in being our lead singer," He said more slowly. He appeared to be terrified.
Anthing is better than Elliot. "Yeah. Yes, absolutely."
He grinned from ear to ear. "Awesome!" He turned to Mr. Lancer. "We have a lead singer!"
"I heard," Mr. Lancer said. "If you would sign up for me here, then."
"Oh...we need a band name," Wide-Eyes said. "Any ideas?"
"I don't even know your name," Sam said, joining their circle.
"Nathan," He shook her hand. "But you can call me Nate,"
"Nice to meet you, Nate," She turned to the boy in her forensics class. "You're in forensics with me, but I don't remember your name..."
"It's T-Tarlton. Tarlton Northcliffe Jr." He shuffled awkwardly under her gaze, his eyes planted on his shuffling feet. He was taller than her, but shorter than Nate. His hair fell in wispy brown curls against his forehead, which he swiped quickly away.
Sam blinked. "Well that's an unfortunate name," She said. His head whipped up. He grinned. She grinned back.
"I'm David." The last boy said. He was about the same height as Sam. He was muscular, but not meaty. His hair, which was closely cropped to his head, was a dirty blonde. His grip was firm on hers as they shook hands. "I've heard a lot about you, Sam Manson." His green eyes flashed.
"I'm gonna assume that's a good thing," Sam said, pointing at him with her free hand. He mirrored her movements with a grin. "So...what are we gonna call ourselves?"
They were silent, their faces thoughtful. Sam's thoughts switched sporatically to a book she was reading, Ivey and the Airship. The genre. Steampunk.
"How about...Steampunk?" She said timidly. Their faces lit up.
"I love that!" David said. "Steampunk! Sounds deadly!"
"It's actually a book genre," Sam admitted. "But it sounds kick-ass enough to be name of a band," She shrugged. "I know I'd listen to it, and I don't even like music."
A strange look crossed David's face as the words left her mouth.
"Alright, Steampunk it is," Mr. Lancer said, Sam tore her gaze away from David's and found Mr. Lancer, who was grinning like an idiot. "You will audition at 6 o'clock next Friday evening. Practice hard,"
"We'll need to find a place to practice, first," Sam said as they gathered outside of the auditorium doors. "My house has plenty of room, if you guys want to meet there. We should start tonight."
They were all agreeing with her eagerly. "Okay, so...here...is my...address..." She scribbled her address on the backs of each of their hands quickly. "Go home, get your instruments, and meet back there. Okay?"
"Okay," They replied in usion. Easy enough.
Now...if only making music was this easy...
Okay, you're finished reading. GO TO YOUTUBE AND WATCH STRAIGHT NO CHASER. I am DETERMINED to educate you readers in the ways of music. I will introduce you to the loves of my life if you wish.
STRAIGHT NO CHASER IS RIGHT THERE AT THE TOP OF THE LIST OF THE LOVES OF MY LIFE.
I'm not sure who's number one. Probably a tie between Adele and the cast of Glee.
WOAH. WOAH. CHILL OUT. Glee has some kick-ass covers. The acting, the plot line...eh. The music...yes please. Darren Criss...
FUTURE FREAKING HUSBAND. GTFO MY WAY, CHRIS COLFER. HE'S MINE.
Anyways.
I will educate you.
Worry not. (:
Thank you for reading! :D
- Tori
