Chapter Text
Rae walked up to their usual table at the pub and slapped a poster down in front of Chloe and Izzy.
Chloe glanced at it, then groaned. “Not this again!”
Izzy made a face “They beat us every time! Maybe we should just hang up our instruments and call it a day.”
“What? No way!” Rae clutched the flyer for the quarterly Battle of the Bands at The Cellar in her fist and said, “If we always came last, I’d agree, but we’ve come second the last three times. I’m tired of being number two!” she shouted.
“Eat more fiber, love!” a drunk at the bar slurred loudly.
Rae shook her head, still fired up. “I think we need to really kick into high gear this time.”
Chloe crossed her arms and leaned back against the booth. “Oh, really? You prepared to do what’s necessary, then? Finally?”
Rae’s eyes widened, her brow furrowed, lips pressed together anxiously.
“I—I don’t think that’ll be … I mean, you’ve got an amazin’ voice, Chlo, and you’ve got the LOOK, y’know? That’s half of it, and the half I don’t have.”
“Rae, that’s a load of cobblers. You sing twice as good as I do, and if you’d just let me style you up a bit … Izzy and I have been DYING to get our hands on your hair.” Izzy nodded solemnly while Chloe waggled her eyebrows and reached out to twirl a piece of it in her fingers.
Rae swatted her hand away. “Get off!”
“Okay, fine. But here’s the deal. We’re not entering Battle of the Sodding Bands again, unless YOU are our lead singer. And I pick out your outfit.” Chloe pursed her lips and flared her nostrils, the “End of” was silent but implied.
Rae looked to Izzy with pleading eyes. The redhead shook her head sadly. “Sorry, babes, but I’m with Chloe on this one. If we’re gonna stand a chance to beat ‘em, you’ve gotta be our frontman. Woman. Person. Whatever.” She shook her head to clear it. “Point is, it’s gotta be you, Rae.”
Rae unclenched her fist and smoothed out the flyer, sighing. She wanted to taste victory just once in her life, but wasn’t sure she was prepared to look like a fool in order to do it.
Just then, the pub door opened. Rae turned her head to see a group of three lads from the year above tumble in, laughing. The fittest of them caught her eye and scoffed. Rae saw red, and spun back to her mates. “Fine, I’m in. Rehearsals tomorrow, six o’clock. Mrs. Denton’s goin’ to let us have the music room for an hour.”
Chloe and Izzy gave each other a surprised look, but nodded.
Rae looked back at the trio, gleefully guzzling pints. “It is ON,” she whispered to herself.
* * * * *
Thirty minutes before …
Finn strode along the high street, humming along to the eels’ version of Oh What a Beautiful Morning that was playing in his head. As he neared the chippy, he pulled the flyer out of his pocket to be at the ready. Then, he slammed it against the window, right next to Chop and Archie’s table, pointing at it as Archie adjusted his glasses to read it and Chop squinted at him in annoyance for startling him while he was hungover.
Finn removed the paper from the glass and darted inside to join his friends. “What d’ya think, lads? You up for maintaining our status as the Best Band in Lincolnshire?”
Archie scoffed. “It’s barely a competition, mate. Maybe we should give it a miss an’ let someone else wear the crown for a few months.”
Finn looked at Archie disbelievingly. “You what? This would be the fourth consecutive win … a full year of musical dominance!”
Chop and Archie shrugged in affirmation, which was good enough for Finn. “Alrigh’ then. That’s more like it.”
“Plus, maybe I could get that redhead from Social Quotient’s number!” Chop’s eyebrows did a jig as he bit his lip with his gapped teeth. Archie laughed, shaking his head. Finn, however, was not amused.
“No. Absolutely no fuckin’ way. We can’t fraternize with the enemy!”
Chop’s blue eyes grew wide and Archie held up a hand. “Now, hang on, Finn. They’re not exactly the enemy, are they? It’s a friendly competition, right? You’re just sore because—“
Finn cut Archie off. “—I’m not sore about anythin’, alright? I just don’t think it’s a good idea. We need to focus on winnin’, not … gettin’ in their knickers.” He stood up, grabbed a soda from the case and slammed a pound coin on the counter as he left.
Chop and Archie looked at each other, eyebrows raised. “He’s totally sore because she never called him,” Archie said, returning to his history book.
* * * * *
Ten months ago …
Dear Diary,
I’m so glad I convinced Chloe and Izzy to form a band! I had to let Chloe name it, which might have been a huge mistake, but I don’t even care because now we’re going to play Battle of the Bands next month! You need to have a five-song set for Battle of the Band, but the audience can boo you off the stage at any time. If we make it through one song, I’m calling it a victory!
* * * * *
Nine and a half months ago …
Dear Diary,
Last night at the pub, we met some really fit lads. Of course, they started chatting to Chloe and Izzy, and only talked to me because I was there, but this one, I think his name was Finn, we ended up having this totally intense debate about Bowie. As they were getting ready to leave, I saw him drop a piece of paper. I think it had his phone number on it, so I slid it back into his bag. I wouldn’t want some total rando calling me up saying, “I found your number on the floor of the pub” and leering down the phone or whatever.
* * * * *
Nine months ago …
Dear Diary,
Tonight was BATTLE OF THE BANDS!!! It was awesome, amazing, and every other fantastic adjective you can think of!
Well, mostly. Our set was great! We lasted all five songs! In fact, we came in second! And you won’t believe who won … it was those blokes we met a couple of weeks ago! Their band is called Whip-smart. I guess the competition made them really focused or something, because I tried to wave hello when I saw them backstage, but the gap-toothed one and the one with glasses only half-nodded, and Finn (?) totally ignored me. Oh, well.
Still, SECOND-PLACE!!! That’s totally awesome for our first time!
* * * * *
Eight months and three weeks ago …
Dear Diary,
Pub tonight. We ran into our opponents again … the ones from the Battle of the Bands? Yeah, I think we caught them on a good night that first time, because they acted totally weird again. I could tell Gap-Tooth wanted to talk to Izzy, but his friend, who I will now call Mr. Mardy Bum due to the mournful look he was wearing all night, seemed to be holding him back. Mr. MB also cut me off at the jukebox, and I had a pocketful of 20ps. Still, he didn’t pick bad stuff, which was a relief.
Just seems strange they wouldn’t even talk to us, after that first time of us all getting along … but Chloe found plenty of consolation.
* * * * *
Finn kicked a chunk of loose pavement all the way down the street, till he lost it in a drain. He wasn’t thinking about her. He didn’t care if she played the guitar like a demon. He certainly wasn’t bothered if her hair caught the stage lights and glowed like a halo. And he absolutely didn’t mind it when she not only didn’t take his phone number but actually put it back in his bag. Like she was so turned off she couldn’t even have it on her person and throw it away when she got home.
They’d played with a vengeance, well, he had, anyway, that first show, and then every time after it was like he had to prove he was the best. He knew it was like being a big fish in a small pond, but she and her band were good, too. He just didn’t want them to be better.
And now, well, he didn’t care that she seemed to want to be friendly with him. That was of no concern of his. He had plenty of friends, and … he didn’t care.
He shoved the front door open when he got home, kicked off his boots, and headed upstairs to work on the set list. Five songs. They had to be new (for them) and they had to be good. They had to win.
* * * * *
Before rehearsal the next day, Rae was nervous. Chloe and Izzy were adamant that she should be singing lead, instead of humming on the ones and twos like she usually did. Chloe just looked so right for the part, and could wear every cool thing Rae knew she could never pull off. But she knew her friends wouldn’t back down.
To calm her nerves, she headed to the record shop. A quick flick through Recent Acquisitions always slowed her heart rate and chilled her out. Of course, today, Mr. Mardy Bum had to be there already, pouting his stupid lips in concentration, messy hair falling into his dumb brown eyes. She almost turned on her heel to walk out, but she took a deep breath and kept her course. Their eyes met for a second, and she couldn’t read his expression, but she knew he didn’t like her, so it didn’t matter.
She ducked her head and started from the bottom of the wall display where recent stock (new and used) hung out for a week or two before moving into a category on the floor. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, and that’s what she liked. Not knowing what she might find.
After ten minutes, she sensed someone standing near her and glanced up to find Finn skirting the far edge of the section.
This is stupid, she decided. We can at least be civil. “I assume I’ll see you at Battle of the Bands?” she tried to keep any tone out of her voice, and smiled at the end. He wasn’t looking up to see it, so it didn’t matter.
“Wouldn’t miss another chance to be champions. You havin’ another go?” he asked, peering at her out of the corner of his eye.
“Yep. You look a little too comfortable up there; gotta keep tryin’ to knock you off your throne.” She smiled for real this time, and she could sense his head turn to look at her.
He merely scoffed.
Then, Rae mused out loud. “It’s so weird; this stupid rivalry. I’m not even sure how it started. I remember we had fun the first time we met, but between then and that first Battle of the Bands …” She shrugged and looked over to meet his eyes. “Seems a shame, is all.”
“Well, I thought we had fun, too, until you made it clear you weren’t interested in gettin’ to know me any better.” Finn mumbled. Rae had to strain to hear him and replay his words in her brain until they made sense.
“What are you ON about?” she asked, genuinely perplexed.
Finn squirmed, visibly uncomfortable. “Just …” He cleared his throat. “I’m not sure why I remember this, but …” He coughed. “I think I said we should hang out sometime and you said something like, ‘Sure’ and I said you should call me. Then, your redheaded friend—“
“—Izzy.”
“—Yeah, that’s her. She asked you a question. While you were talkin’ to her, I wrote my number on a piece of paper and put it in front of you. The next thing I knew, I found it back in my bag, which I took as a pretty clear ‘No thanks.’” He picked up a cd case and flipped it over to examine the back. “Y’know, no big deal. Just don’t like to waste people’s time.”
Rae felt the blood drain from her face. How could she have been so stupid? Well, nothing like that had ever happened to her before. No one had ever wanted her to call them before, so how was she to know?
“I found it on the floor as we were leavin’ …” she said, dazed. “I—I thought you’d dropped it, and I thought I … thought I was doin’ you a favor. Y’know, so no weirdo found it and called you.”
Finn’s eyebrows twisted into confusion. “What? But we said …” He ran a hand through his hair, agitated. “Why would I carry around a paper with my name and number on it?”
“In case you lost your rucksack?” Rae said the first thing that came to her mind.
Finn laughed out loud, and though she didn’t like being laughed at, his mirth didn’t seem mean-spirited. His laugh was one of incredulity.
“Well, I didn’t know, did I? Nobody’s ever given me their number before! I didn’t see it on the table; it fell on the floor! How am I supposed to assume that anyone wants me to call them?”
Finn stopped laughing at this. “Rae, you’re … who wouldn’t want to hang out with you?”
“Oh, I don’t know, how about … the vast majority of everyone I’ve ever met?” She wasn’t mad or even sad about this, just exasperated that she’d missed out on this opportunity because of her past.
Finn dropped his head and bounced a fist off of his thigh. “Shit,” he said, matter-of-factly.
“What?” she asked.
“Just, I’m sorry. I acted like a stupid kid. I thought you were telling me you weren’t interested, so I just …”
“… Acted like you weren’t interested right back.” Rae sighed. “I get it. I probably would’ve done the same. But then, I never would have given you my number, unless you explicitly asked me for it, and even then, you probably would have had to ask me two more times and write it down yourself.”
There was a long silence between the two of them. Finally, Finn broke it to ask, “Rae, can I have your number?”
“Huh?”
“Rae, what’s your last name?”
“Um, Earl.”
“Rae Earl, can I have your number?”
She shook her head slowly as a smile crept across her features.
“May I have your number?”
Now she was grinning as she looked over one shoulder back at the rest of the store, seeing if anyone was witness to this turn of events. When she focused on Finn again, he had a pen and the back of the Battle of the Bands poster, ready to write down every digit.
* * * * *
When she showed up five minutes late to rehearsal, Chloe and Izzy were both crossing their arms and tapping their feet impatiently. “What’s up wi’ you?” Izzy asked. “You’re never late.”
“Yeah, I, uh, ran into someone and time got away from me.” She ducked her head to busy herself with taking her guitar out of its case, hoisting the strap over her head, plugging in the amp.
“Who?” Chloe demanded.
“Uhhh, just … Danny! From group. He could talk the back leg off a donkey, you remember.” She played an experimental riff to warm up, check the tuning.
Chloe narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but seemed satisfied. “Okay, so. You’re singin’ this time, yeah? We should probably start with something we’ve tried but didn’t play at the show before. Rae? Any thoughts?”
Rae nodded and started humming, then strumming. Izzy recognized the opening, and got on the hi-hat, matching the rhythm with a beat. Chloe filled in with bass and Rae started singing:
When they finished “Why Do I Lie?” Rae felt guilty, she’d lied just before the song and she’d lie again before the Battle of the Bands, but for now, they had the first song of their set.
* * * * *
Across town, Finn was early for practice, setting levels, humming another cheery tune. Archie showed up next and eyed him suspiciously. “What’re you so happy about?” he asked, grabbing his guitar from the case.
“Hmm? Oh, nothin’. Just … happy in general, I guess. Generally just pretty happy today.”
Archie plugged in his guitar. “Well, cut it out. You’re makin’ me nervous.”
Chop bounded in to the garage, still greasy from the garage where he worked, “Not too late am I?”
“Nah, you’re bang on time, mate.” Finn clapped him on the shoulder affectionately, and Chop gave Archie a bewildered look over Finn’s shoulder.
“What’s goin’ on?” he asked. “Why’re you so bloody … cheery? You’re never cheery; you’re a grumpy guts.”
Finn shook his head. “I’m not that bad, am I?”
Archie and Chop exchanged another knowing look, but kept stumm.
“Let’s just play through the new set, shall we? Cut out all the commentary on my moods,” Finn said, somewhat grumpily, which mollified his friends. This was the bloke they were used to. Moody and intense, but predictable about it.
Chop peeled off the top of his coveralls, tied the arms around his waist and sat behind the drums, counting off, “1, 2, 3, 4!”
* * * * *
At home that night, Finn was smiling dreamily up at his ceiling. It was the strangest thing to find out that someone you thought hated you and you tried to hate right back in fact didn’t hate you at all and might even like you. Thank god she was ballsy enough to say something. To pointedly ask him what the deal was. He’d gotten so wrapped around the axle with the situation, he’d never have been able to do it himself.
He sat up and pulled his bag up onto his bed, unzipped the outer pocket and gingerly extracted the paper with her number on it. It had been … he counted on his fingers, 1, 2, 3, 4, 4 and a half hours since he’d last seen her. They’d walked out of the record shop together and stood talking in the street for a bit, until she realized she was running late for practice. They’d gotten as far as agreeing to keep their … whatever this was … to themselves, just until they figured out if it was worth telling anyone about. There was that awkward moment where they both looked at each other, leaning forward on the balls of their feet, not sure what to do. Finn had reached out to squeeze her hand and she smiled gratefully. “I’ll call you later,” he said as she turned to rush back to school.
9:56, his digital clock read. If he wanted to call her tonight, he had four minutes to do it, His nan always told him that calling people at home after 10 o’clock was rude. It seemed a logical rule, and he’d always kept to it.
9:57. If he didn’t call her now, he supposed he might see her at college. But he had pretty handily avoided her in the halls, so he didn’t have any idea of her schedule or even where her locker was.
9:58. “Fuck it,” he breathed, grabbing the cordless handset from it’s base and taking a deep breath before deliberately dialing each number. The phone was ringing. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
9:59. “Hello?” It was her. Her voice sounded breathy and a little higher than in person, but it was her.
“Hi, um, it’s Finn. From this afternoon.” He squeezed his already shut eyes a little bit tighter, then opened them to find a pen to doodle with while he tried to talk.
“Oh! Uh, hiya. Everythin’ alright?”
“Yeah! Everythin’s …” The word amazing sprung to mind but he settled on “… great. I just thought … well, I really just wanted to say good night and thanks, really.”
“Thanks for what?”
“For sayin’ somethin’, for makin’ me realize what a twat I’ve been, for … well, for that, really. For givin’ me another chance.”
“Oh … well. You’re welcome, I suppose.”
The phone line hummed into the silence.
“And, I guess, I were wondering … what’s your first class? Since I was sort of tryin’ to ignore ya, I have no idea where your classes are.”
A laugh came down the line. “Yeah, funny that. I’ve got English first thing, Mr. Kapoor. But …”
“Hmmm?” Was she already regretting giving him her number?
“If we’re keeping this ‘under the radar’—at least to start—maybe we shouldn’t meet up in the halls?”
Yeah. She had a good point. Finn chewed his lip, thinking.
“But, if you want …” she started.
“Yeah?” he answered eagerly. He wanted whatever she was offering.
“We could meet up for pre-college tea. Or coffee. Or whatever. I mean—“
“Yeah. Yes. Let’s do that. Where?”
“Oh, ummmmm … that coffee shop at the top of the high street? I don’t think many people from college go there.”
“Okay, see you tomorrow morning at . . ?” He trailed off, waiting for her to set the time.
“Eight?”
“Eight. See you then, then.” He smiled, and looked down at his desk, where he’d drawn a crude likeness of her, mainly a mane of hair. “Good night, Rae.”
“Good night, Finn,” she echoed; her voice sounded warm.
He smiled to himself as she hung up, even as the phone started beeping at him. His smile disappeared when he realized that they could have been having conversations every night for almost a year, if he hadn’t been such a grumpy guts, as Chop had put it. He sighed, and pulled his legs up on the bed, fingers strumming the tune to Sulk, hoping he’d changed today.