The following afternoon, I went over the final lineup with X-Rod for the songs I would be singing later that evening. I made sure that Marnie didn't tell anyone about what she would be wearing, so as the element of surprise would be on our side that night. I surprised myself by suggesting that Rodney sing Africa with Dex and Axel in order to heat things up for the opening number. I was equally surprised when they agreed.
Marnie and I got out of there after two that day—two-twenty as usual—and went to the parking lot to Rose's car. I got behind the wheel and waited for Marnie to get inside and buckled in before I put the key in the ignition. I put on my seat belt and stuck the key into the slot before pulling out of the parking space and out of the parking lot.
We drove to the beauty salon where we had appointments and went inside. It didn't take long to check in and confirm our three-thirty appointments before we left the place and went to go get drinks at the coffee shop next door. We each got caramel mochas and raspberry scones and sat down to wait. We chattered about the lineup that evening, and about how Marnie was so pumped at the obvious flirting from Rodney's end.
I smiled and nodded along with her as I sipped my mocha and chewed my scone absentmindedly. I didn't want to think about the dance. All I wanted was David, and how he couldn't be with me. I counted that we'd been here fourteen days, and fingered my repaired necklace around my throat. I also had Rose's tucked away in my pocket for emergencies. Part of me wanted to wish for David's location, or just to wish that he was here with me, but I wasn't planning on cutting any corners in my pursuit of getting him back.
We returned to the beauty salon in the next thirty minutes and were ushered into the hair area first. I'd asked for a shampoo and conditioner wash, and then for it to be trimmed and highlighted with golden streaks to match my collar. It was good that my hair was black, so that the streaks would be clear under the spotlight. I was put into a chair and told to lean back into a black sink, which did not make me nervous at all.
I leaned back like I was told, and shut my eyes at the sensation of the hot water flowing through my hair and onto my scalp. The woman used a shampoo and conditioner combo that smelled of vanilla and seemed to stimulate my nasal passages. She massaged my scalp with her sure and quick fingers which relieved much of the stress that flowed through me so much of late. She gently pulled a comb through my hair before the rinse cycle, so as there would be no pain in the brushing later.
Then I was asked to go onto a proper sitting position where she pulled the comb through my hair again. She used the comb with one hand and a pair of shiny silver scissors in the other to snip away my split ends. Then she blow-dried my hair so that it sat fluffy and full of curls an inch or so below my shoulders, as opposed to halfway down my back like before. She then tells me to stand up and to stretch for a minute while she goes to get the foil which will contain the dye for the streaks.
I stretch for a moment and manage to pop my back. It sends a wave of pleasure up and down my spine and even into my legs and neck. I return to my seat when I see her coming back with the dye and the foil. She begins the process of the dipping and the sticking and the forming and whatnot on my hair, and is very precise and careful throughout.
She then hands me a magazine with Michael Jackson on the cover, that makes me do a double take as it is him in the 80's. I smile and thank her and try not to reveal his actual death date or any other information. I see then that Marnie has spruced up her color—it is more chocolate black than raven black now, and she does look very nice.

Next come our mani-pedi's and we each opt for colors that match our new dresses and eyeshadows. We preen momentarily, loving the notion that on this night, we will both look beautiful. With our makeup and outfits at home, we are totally Spring Fling ready.
It is almost five when we're finished and we hastily pay the women thirty dollars each before running to the car. I check out myself in the mirror—hair straight until the beautiful, thick curls at the bottom. With my dress and makeup, I will almost be a knockout that evening. Marnie looks very nice as well, and I'm very glad that Rose's date isn't until seven, so as she will have time to assist us in getting ready.
We arrive back at Rose's place and she claps her hands as what has been done to us at the beauty parlor. Then she pushes us into her bedroom and begins to order us playfully around. We sit on my bed and are made to strip before we are made to put on our pantyhose—without chipping our bright red nails or making holes with our bright red toenails.
Rose assists us with getting our dresses on without any tearing mishaps or anything like that. I make sure that my skirt is hanging correctly and that I haven't messed up my hair before I tell Rose that I am fine and that she should focus on Marnie. I fasten my gold collar around my neck, and silently make the wish that I wish that my necklaces' jewel could somehow become a part of my new collar, and, miraculously, it becomes part of it.
I put on the foundation, blush, lipstick, mascara, eye shadow, eye liner, and soon my makeup is complete. My lipstick is called Desiderio, which means wish or desire in Italian, and is a bright, attractive red. This way, everyone will be focused on my lips when I sing, so everything worked out in this way, I suppose. I quickly try not to cry when I think that David won't be able to share this evening with me.
Rose sees my face and fixes me with a look. "Mascara," she says quietly. I nod and quickly calm down so as I won't cry.
Half an hour later, exactly fifteen minutes before we're due to arrive, making it five forty-five, Marnie and I wave goodbye to Rose. I am behind the wheel of her car, and I am in control one hundred percent. I give her a smile, mentally wishing her luck, and she nods at me. Marnie and I soon leave University Park area and are soon at Tempus High School. Marnie and I make for the band hallway and are soon greeted by Rodney, Dex, and Axel.
We are lightly flirted with—although Rodney is respectful and doesn't flirt with me, and for that I'm glad—before we decide to do a practice session. The boys quickly go through Africa, and then we do Fools, Dancing Queen, and two others before Mr. Humbert gives us the five minute cue. We discuss certain things for about three minutes and then Mr. Humbert tells us that we had better get into our places now.
We walk out of the band room through a side door which leads to the stage, and see the drum set and keyboard, which Dex will play; two guitars, one each for Axel and Dex; and two mikes for Marnie and me. The navy blue curtain is still down, yet we all of us are starting to hear the sound of teenagers milling around and talking behind it. It quickly manages to send a series of goosebumps down my arm where Marnie and I are standing in the wings, as we will not be singing in the first song.
I hear some high heels behind me and, upon turning around, see Roxy coming into the stage area. She gawks at the sights of us, then makes her face almost completely impassive as she takes the stage. She goes up in a triumphant manner to where Rodney is, tuning his guitar, and leans in to kiss him.

"Hey, baby," she says, and manages to pull him to the opposite side of the stage for some privacy.

I reach to my throat, fingering the jewel of the necklace slightly. "I wish I could hear what they're saying," I whisper.

"Yeah, hey," Rodney replies, turning and looking at Marnie in the darkness.

"Just what the hell do you think you're looking at?!" Roxy demands, grabbing ahold of Rodney's chin and pulling it so as his eyes are on her. "You were looking at Marnie, weren't you? Well, I won't have it." She then forms one of her hands into a fist and brings it up so that its eye-level to him. "You see this?" she hisses through her teeth. "You remember what happens when you do something that's not allowed, right?"

Rodney lowers his eyes, so much so that I feel as if I have to do something; I've never seen my dad act like this—meek and obedient. I mean, yeah, he did what my mom told him to do sometimes, but marriage was a two-way street. You have to listen to one another and come up with a resolution together to solve any given problem that you encounter.
"No," Rodney says, looking at her with eyes like stone.
Roxy doubles back for a moment, blinking innocently and her mannerisms at once becoming sugary sweet. "Excuse me?" she asks in that annoying, high-pitched voice of hers.
"No," Rodney says firmly.
"But...but..."
"Stop," Rodney says firmly, reaching out and forcefully moving her fist back down so that it's in its normal position. "It's over, Roxy. This should never have even begun, because you're rude, shallow, and a total narcissist—everything, and I mean everything has to be the way you want it, and all about you. It's not cool, Roxy. You were rude more than once to Rose, and you freaking broke her nose for Christ sakes! I should have known then, like I do now, that you're not for me, but I just couldn't bring myself to hurt you."
"And now?" she asks pathetically, looking like some vulnerable, wounded animal in a field or something.
"And now, I know that there is someone else who cares as much about me as I do her, and I should have seen it a long time ago." He looks at Marnie briefly, gives her a smile, but then quickly turns back to Roxy. "We're done, Roxy—you need help. Go and find someone else to be a punching bag."
Roxy turns as scarlet as her dress and immediately turns away; she doesn't look guilty, but afraid. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, no?" demands Rodney. He lifts up his shirt, and his chest is riddled up with numerous bruises—purple, blue, yellow—at least two dozen if not more. "I should have stopped it when this happened, Roxy."
Roxy goes white and proceeds to reach for him in the darkness. "You know I didn't mean it, Rod, I— I'll do better, I'll change. It'll be different," she whispers to him, and I can hear the tears in her voice. "I didn't mean it..."
"You sure as hell meant it when you did it," he growls back at her, his eyes blazing with a sudden burst of anger. "We're done, over!"
Roxy steps back and departs the stage, walking past the both of us with a special glare for each. "This is all your fault!" she shouts at me.

"My fault?!" I demand. "What did I do?! You're the nose-breaker here, Roxy, and now Rodney is a heartbreaker. But you never did have a heart, did you?" I put out my bottom lip. "I'm sorry," I say sarcastically.

Roxy looks as if she will slap me or claw my face, but she notices the stage crew is made up of muscled guys and steps back. She lets out a pathetic whine/shout before stamping her heeled foot and running out of there.

Marnie and I turn to seeRodney, giving a "good riddance" look after Roxy. He then sighs for a momentand nods to himself, a free man. Then, raising his eyes again, he casts a lookacross the stage at me, a small grin on his face and shrugs before his eyesmove to Marnie. He sighs again; this time, it is a sigh of lust and not regretor resentment.
"Should I go talk to him?" Marnie asks mequietly.
I smile, but find that I am shaking my head ather. "He clearly wants you, but let him be the one to come to you."
She nods. "I will."