Open-Mike Night

Footsteps fell around the corner of the next hallway. Cheyenne slowed. The heavy boots on the tile-dum, dum, dum-told Cheyenne exactly who it was. Not only that, but she could sense Kevin was nearby, like a deer might sense some moron trudging through the woods. Instinct told her to run, run far away!

She hurried, trying to get into the next hallway before Kevin saw her.

"Cheyenne! Wait a sec!"

Too late. Cheyenne cringed. Should she pretend she hadn't heard him? Keep going? Disappear inside the bathroom? Maybe she should run right out the door and never look back. Kevin was like a thorn in her side now. She was almost embarrassed that she'd gone out with him at all.

"Hey," he said, slipping in front of her before she had the chance to run. "I got you something." He pulled a rose from behind his back.

"What's this for?" she asked.

"It's an apology."

Was he serious? Had she somehow stumbled into the fourth dimension? Because this was not the Kevin she knew. The Kevin she knew didn't apologize for anything. He probably didn't even know the meaning of an apology.

"Kevin-" This was really not a good time for him to play her. She had been in a bad mood since her mother forbade her to go to the Van Halen concert with Kayla.

Listening to music and hanging out with her girl friends had been the one good thing she had done since Kevin broke up with her. She looked forward to every single afternoon where she and Kayla could walk across the street from the campus to Star's house.

It was this bad mood that propelled her to do what she did next.

She took the rose from Kevin's hand. "Thanks, baby," she cooed just like she used to when they were together. Giving the rose a customary sniff, she got in close to him.

Running a hand down his arm, she flicked her eyes up. His lids were at half-mast as he slipped his arm around her shoulders and tugged her into him. She snuggled up and tilted her head as if waiting for a kiss.

Kevin leaned over, and just as he went in for the lip-lock, Cheyenne turned her face away. "Sorry," she said, tapping the rose against his chest, "but you broke up with me, remember?" She arched a brow. "Then humiliated me in front of the whole school by kissing some random chick. Take your rose and shove it up your ass, Kevin, 'cause us breaking up was the best thing that ever happened to me."

With that, she swiveled on her heels and walked away.

♥♥♥

That was like a breath of fresh air, Cheyenne thought. She slouched in her chair as she waited for the final bell to ring and her US history class to begin. Or, really, for Michael to show up and take the seat next to her.

Less than a minute later, he walked in the door, his white sneakers scuffling across the floor. He smiled when they locked eyes and he made his way through the aisle of desks over to his.

"Hey, Chey," he said, turning sideways in his seat. "Are you still grounded?"

"Yeah," Cheyenne said, rolling her eyes, "but i'm working on my mother. I just can't promise anything." Dread filled her stomach even thinking about it. "Working" on her mother wasn't going to get her anywhere, most likely. Her mother was stubborn as a mule when it came to things she thought were "good" for her daughters.

"Well, open-mike night is this weekend." Michael said.

"I know." Cheyenne tapped her pencil against her book. "Maybe you should find someone else to go with..." It pained her to say the words aloud. She didn't want him to find another date. She wanted to go, and the thought of letting another chick take her spot made the dread turn into a hard lump of envy.

"No, way," Michael said, and Cheyenne settled with relief. "I want you."

A smile pulled her lips tight. She was probably glowing right about now. "But what if i can't get away?"

"We'll figure something out," he said, sounding sure of it.

Cheyenne, though, was having a hard time believing him.

♥♥♥

"If it makes you that happy, you have to do it," Star told Cheyenne later that day at lunch. "You'll always regret not trying."

Cheyenne popped the tab on her can of Coke. "But what am i going to do about my mother?"

"You can lie," Kayla said, ripping her turkey sandwich into tiny little bites.

"Like what?" Cheyenne asked. "Tell her i'm studying at the library?"

Star snorted. "I don't think that'll fly. You never have to study. You're too smart for that."

"Right," Kayla nodded. "You could tell her you're at my house. That we're having a sleep over or something."

"You can use me, too," Star nodded. "Just let me know before, in case your mom calls or something."

"Thanks, but even if i do get away to open-mike night, my mother's still going to find out eventually." Cheyenne popped a chip in her mouth and crunched it up.

♥♥♥

The place was packed, and people were still lining up outside waiting to pay the five-dollar cover charge. Whatever kind of advertising Tara and the rest of the student council had done, it'd worked. It was almost a miracle.

"Here you go," Kayla said, handing an older couple change from their twenty-dollar bill. "Let me just stamp your hand and you can head in."

She rocked the Scrappe stamp across a rainbow inkpad and pressed it onto the woman's hand, then the man's.

A thirty-something woman came forward in line holding a hand of a ten-year-old girl, her face practically glowing with excitement.

"You excited for the show?" Kayla asked, taking the ten-dollar bill from the mother.

The little girl nodded. "I came to see Michael."

Her mother smiled, shaking her head. "My daughter has a little bit of a crush."

"Mom!"

"Oh, sorry," Mom gave an apologetic shrug. "I just think it's cute."

The little girl let go of her mother's hand and crossed her arms over her chest. "I do not have a crush."

"I wouldn't blame you if you did," Kayla said, grabbing the girl's hand to give her a stamp. "I think Michael's a pretty great guy."

The girl looked away sheepishly. "Yeah. How do you know him?"

"He's a good friend of mine."

"My bother is friends with him," the girl explained. She puffed out her chest. "He comes over all the time."

"Cool."

The mom held out her hand for a stamp. "My son plays the bass guitar in that band Michael is in."

"Oh! Hobb?"

"Yeah, i guess that's his nickname." She smiled, then, "I just know him as John."

Kayla blushed, having forgotten that "Hobb" was a nickname he'd acquired in the seventh grade because of his hobbit-like feet. "Sorry," she said.

"No. I think it's cute." Apparently, Hobb's mother thought everything was cute. She turned to her daughter. "Ready?"

The girl nodded again, the embarrassment from seconds ago having disappeared to make way for the renewed excitement. "Do you know what time Michael will be on?"

"Eight thirty," Kayla said.