Revenge Of A Band Geek Gone Bad Read Online Free PDF

even ask her."  I knew that if my mom decided to actually do that —- and there was about a fifty-fifty chance she would —- that Lana would vouch for me.  She would even lie that she had all the yogurt, if it came down to it.
    Mom frowned.  "Well, this is your father's and he's not going to be pleased.  Besides, I thought we agreed you don't need stuff like this.  You could've had a piece of fruit."
    "It's low-fat yogurt!"  I argued.  "Yogurt's good for you!"
    "Not when you have half a carton!”
    "I didn't," I repeated.  I could see that it was going to be one of those kind of arguments.
    "Look, I don't have time for this," Mom complained.  "I've had a really busy day.  But starting tomorrow, you're going on a real diet, no questions.  I'm tired of worrying about you."
    "So don't," I told her.  "I'm 15.  I can take care of myself, okay?"
    My mom didn't say anything, but didn't argue with me either, and for that, I was relieved.  She just kind of shook her head as she poured herself a fresh cup of coffee.
    "Can I go back to painting now?"  I asked, backing out of the kitchen.  She nodded.
    But as I turned to go up to my room, she noticed the clothes that I hadn't bothered to change out of.
    "My God, Melinda," she cried.  "What happened to your pants?"

CHAPTER 4
     
    I spent most of the weekend in my room practicing my flute and painting.  I learned a whole new section of the Poulenc Sonata, which is the piece I'm planning to play for the band recital later this fall.  I also finished the picture of my room.  I ended up making a smaller painting of the view out my window, too.  I figured I could give to my grandfather the next time I see him, but when my mom got a look at it, she disagreed.  "I don't think it's a good idea to give a stroke victim something where everything looks melted," she explained.
    While I kept busy, though, I couldn't fully concentrate.  I kept thinking about my strange ride home with Josh the other day and how he'd gone out of his way to talk to me.  I must've gone over our conversation about a million times, each time wondering what he really wanted with me and if I was just this geek on whom he was playing a big trick.  Then again, he'd said that he liked the way I'd played the Hindemith Sonata so obviously he didn't think I was a total loser.
    I found myself checking online, like, every 20 minutes to see if he wrote me.  There wasn’t much on his Facebook page.  It figures; Josh definitely isn’t the type to post personal photos or to give updates like, “At the game, Smithfield are losers, LOL.”  I'm not big on going online, either; really, who do I even talk to other than Lana, who I see all the time, anyway?  But this weekend, I kept my phone on just in case.  To my surprise, I was actually, well, disappointed when I didn't hear from him.  I knew that I could write him first but just couldn't seem to make myself hit "send."
    Finally on Sunday night, I heard from him.  Only he didn't e-mail me.  He called me and of course, Mom had to be the one to answer my phone when I’d gone to the kitchen to get a drink.  I’ve asked her to not do that, but she never listens.  Her argument is that she and my dad pay for the phone.
    "Mel?" she said, calling downstairs.  She cradled my cell in her hand.  "There's a boy named Josh on the phone for you."  She crinkled her brow.  "Do you know who he is?"
    My cheeks turned red at the mention of his name.  I prayed she wouldn't notice.  "Oh, he's ... he's just someone from band," I said as I hurried back upstairs.  I took the phone from her and slammed my door shut.
    "Hey, Mel!"   Josh said, as if we were old friends.
    "Uh, hi," I replied, quietly.
    "How was your weekend?"
    "Good."
    "And how are you doing?"
    "Um.   Fine."
    Josh chuckled. "Not one for small talk, are you?"
    "No, it's not that, it's just that my weekend wasn't very exciting," I quickly explained.  "I spent all of it practicing my flute and