What Happens in High School

Max’s POV

I heard my ratty old converse scuffing against the sidewalk as I made my way toward the music shop. It was a few blocks down the street and my best friend worked there. I’ve known Ray since we first met in preschool. The teacher sat us next to each other and we didn’t actually speak until three months later. One day in December I finally mustered the courage to say hello and our friendship just took off from there.

We spent weekends at the park and went over each other’s houses after school. As we got older and entered middle school, I feared our friendship would weaken. I had always heard that boys didn’t want to be friends with girls once grade six peeked around the corner. Luckily I was proven wrong; my and Ray’s friendship stayed as strong as it had ever been, in fact it only got stronger.

Middle school was a time when people really started to discover who they were. I found out that I was a tomboy who liked rock and roll and fun colors streaked through my long dark hair. I became a bit of a bad ass and didn’t take shit from anyone, but I wasn’t violent about it, not physically anyway. I eventually lost the hair dye but kept the take-no-shit attitude. I don’t think I’m mean but if someone’s going to give me sass, I’ll hand it right back to them.

I opened the front door of the music store to see Ray sitting on a bench facing the back wall. I knew it was him because he was the only person working that day and no one else was in the store. That, and the fact that Ray’s hair was his most unmistakable feature. It was light brown and curly, really curly. Saying he had a fro was an understatement, but he made it work, and it actually seemed to suit him quite well.

He was playing guitar, staring at the frets intently as he tried to find a chord he liked. I tapped on his shoulder and he jumped. He knew I was coming but sometimes he just sort of got into these zones and there was really no other way to get him out without startling him.

“What? Oh, hey Max.” I had been given the nickname Max when I was in the third grade. I hated my real name; Maxine Jennifer Banks. I thought it was too girly and I had always wished for a different one. My and Ray’s friend Gerard gave me the name and claimed it was because he was too lazy to finish my full name, but I didn’t argue. I loved my nickname and now it’s almost as if that was my real name all along; everyone I knew called me Max.

“Hey Ray, what’re you working on?” I asked seeing that he had his fingers positioned on the neck of the guitar in what I believed to be a C-chord. I didn’t play anything cool like Ray and my other friends. I was just another kid in the school band who played the French horn; actually I was the only kid in the whole school who played the French horn. I was always a little jealous of Ray because he was so good at the guitar. He and my cousin Frank both played and both were amazing. They and Gerard, along with Gerard’s younger brother, had started a band just a little while ago. They sounded awesome but would definitely sound better if they had a drummer.

“Oh you know, just messing around. I thought I had something but it’s no good.”

“Can I hear?” I always thought Ray never cut himself enough slack. He had been playing since he’d ‘found himself’ back in our middle school days and decided he wanted to learn guitar. He practiced nonstop and was the best musician I’d ever heard; but he never believed me.

He repositioned his fingers on the neck and held his guitar pick with just the first two fingers of his right hand. He started to strum making sure he had the right sound then picked up the pace a little. He slid his hand down the neck and changed the chord. I honestly didn’t know why he ever doubted his skills; it only took me thirty seconds to fall in love with his new riff.

He finished off the little tune and looked up at me. I just shook my head and replied, “Ray, sometimes I think that you don’t hear yourself while you’re playing. That was amazing, you came up with it all on your own too.” My encouraging words never failed to bring a smile to his face and it was a smile I loved to see. He put down the guitar leaning it back up against the wall and walked over behind the counter.

“You really think I’m that good?” Ray never fished for compliments, he was genuinely doubting himself which made me kind of sad. Someone with that much talent should be able to see it in themselves.

“Of course I do, why else would I say that? Ray, you’re an amazing guitar player, I just wish you could see it too.” Ray’s lips turned up in a shy yet genuine smile. One day he’d realize how great he really was and hopefully so would everyone else.

Without a word he turned and grabbed some CDs from the shelf against the back wall. He laid them out in front of me and simply said, “Pick.” I examined the choices. Iron Maiden, Black Flag, the Misfits, and Rise Against. I personally liked Black Flag but I also knew that Ray’s favorite band was Iron Maiden so I picked up the case and handed it to him. He smiled at the selection and slipped the CD into the radio, playing the music through the store’s speakers but not too loudly.

Ray and I sat behind the counter flipping through music catalogues and talking about the inevitable; school. Tomorrow would be our first day of junior year and neither of us were really looking forward to it. “Are you as excited as I am for junior year?” he asked.

“If that level is all the way up to ‘not-at-all’ then yeah, I think we’re on the same page.” He laughed at my sarcasm and continued. “I feel you, I don’t want to go back either. Why can’t summer just last forever?” I smiled and let out a quiet laugh at his rhetorical question and went back to looking at the catalogue. Ray and I didn’t hate school but it definitely wasn’t our favorite place on Earth. We had our little gang of friends and we were happy with that but we practically wore signs inviting jocks and other ass-holes to pick on us. Everyday sucked and it never got any better.

In the middle of ‘Different World’ I heard the bell chime, indicating someone had come in. I walked over to the radio and lowered the music some more. I heard Ray say from behind me, “Hey man, how’s it going?” I figured it was Gerard or Frank but when I turned around I realized I couldn’t have been more wrong.

He was tall; as tall as Ray who stood at a lofty 5’10”. He had soft blonde hair that was long in the front and was pushed over to the right side of his face. He was wearing sunglasses when he came in but took them off to reveal his gorgeous cerulean blue eyes. They were so blue and perfect it was almost unreal. His bottom lip was pierced with a silver ring on the right side. He was built; he looked muscular, not fat. You could just tell he was strong. I stood there staring at him as he replied to Ray.

“Hey, just looking for a new set of sticks.” His mannish voice was soft and slightly husky. He sounded like he wasn’t from New Jersey, not that I, Ray, or any of our friends had even moderate Jersey accents. He didn’t seem to see me behind the counter, and I was glad. I could feel myself staring and I didn’t want him or Ray to notice. But I also couldn’t get myself to look away.

Although Ray and I have been best friends for as long as I can remember, the topic of boys was always a bit hard to talk about with him. I had had a few boyfriends in the past but when it came to talking to Ray about them it was always awkward. I always wanted the advice of a guy when dealing with other guys and I tried to tread lightly on the topic; so it wasn’t completely untouched territory, just slightly avoided.

Ray and this new guy walked over to the other side of the store to look at drum sticks for the drums I assumed he played. I couldn’t see them behind all of the stuff in the middle of the store but I could still make out their conversation. “So, are you new here?” Ray asked probably noticing the accent as I had. I listened closely, I wanted to know about him too.

“Yeah, I just moved from Chicago about two weeks ago. I’m starting at Belleville High tomorrow.” I heard him say to Ray who responded with, “Oh really? What year are you?” I was glad when he said that he too was a junior, or would be tomorrow anyway. I listened as they picked out a set of sticks and came back to the front of the store.

I tried to nonchalantly read my magazine and pretend as if I hadn’t just been listening to their conversation. I only looked up when Ray said, “Hey Max, want to come meet someone?”
Of course I did, especially since this someone was so incredibly attractive. I was surprised at myself for falling so quickly for him; I didn’t even know his name yet and I already liked him. Did I like him?

I got up from behind the counter and walked around to meet the guys. I was careful in doing this, keeping in mind my naturally clumsy nature. I made it over to the boys without any problems and stood next to Ray facing the new kid.

“Max, this is Bob, he’s going to start at BHS tomorrow. Bob this is my best friend Maxine, but everyone calls her Max.” I was kind of ticked that Ray told him my real name but he made up for it by offering my nickname. Bob held out his hand for me to take and when I did I felt the electricity race through my veins. If that’s what I felt, I wondered what Bob was feeling, if anything.

I shook his hand slowly, but not like a creep, I hoped, and let go. He smiled at me without showing his teeth, kind of shyly, but who could blame him, he was the new kid in town. Even this was endearing though and I could feel myself start to blush. I looked into his deep blue eyes for a moment until I felt myself start to stare and quickly looked away. Smooth one, Maxie.

I tried to cover this by making conversation; what is it they say, guys like confident girls? “So, you play the drums?”I said nodding at the sticks in his hands. He looked down at them as well and replied, “Uh, yeah.” Well I guess I didn’t really expect much else and unfortunately I couldn’t think of anything else to say. Luckily, being the amazing conversation starter that Ray was, he kept it going by asking, “How long have you played?”

“Uh, since I was four so… twelve years I guess.” Wow, twelve years on the drums. I haven’t even played horn that long and Ray had only played guitar for five years, Bob must have been amazing. “Could we hear something?” Whoa, and that confidence came from where exactly? I don’t know why I suddenly asked him to play drums for us and I have no idea how I said it without vomiting. Bob looked down, a little shy to show off his talent. “Yeah, I’d love to hear something.” Ray joined in.

Bob shrugged his shoulders and replied, “Okay, uh, sure. I’m not that great though.” Bob was shy so I had kind of figured that he would be the modest type like Ray was. He walked over to the drum set and adjusted a few pieces to accommodate his longer legs before giving us a glance and turning back to face the set.

He started off with some bass drum and quickly and lightly tapped on the cymbals before moving on to hitting the snare drum. He kept the high hat going while he drummed out a cadence. He was as amazing on drums as Ray was on guitar. I was in awe of how smoothly he moved from drum to drum changing the tone and tempo effortlessly. He finished off by playfully hitting the cymbal to crash it one final time before putting his hands up to it to stop the ringing.

I could tell Ray was as amazed as I was at what we just heard. I could practically hear the gears turning in Ray’s head and I knew exactly what he was going to say before he even said it.

“That was fantastic, you’re really talented man!” Bob shyly accepted this compliment and Ray continued. “Yo, Bob, so my band is looking for a drummer, interested?” Bob considered this for a moment before answering. “Yeah I could try, see how the sounds fit.”

“Yeah, you seem to play just the way we’re hoping to sound like.” Ray went on. The boys made plans to meet on Saturday at Bob’s house, which just so happened to be down the street from mine and Ray’s houses, so that they didn’t have to move his drums. I watched as the boys shook hands one last time after Bob paid for his sticks.

He turned to me and said, “Well, I guess I’ll see you at school tomorrow. It was nice to meet you, Max.” I smiled as he turned to leave. He used my nickname, another plus for him. He was just turning out more and more perfect the longer he was around. It was official, I was crushing hard on Bob and I wanted to see where things might go, but would it be acceptable for me to date my best friend’s band’s potential drummer?

Notes

I don't care if no one reads this, I'm posting a Bob Bryar fiction!! I personally love Bob and in my mind he will always be part of the band, so this story is for anyone who feels the same way, even if that's only one other person.

P.S. I don't own the Misfits, Black Flag, Iron Maiden, or Rise Against or any of their works.