Stacy's Song Read Online Free PDF

good. “Maybe I’ll get lucky ton ight. You did say guys come right? Besides, you can always sit with me between sets.”
    Michael called out my name and I hurried to join the others on stage. We started playing at 8:30 , but the club didn’t start to fill up for another hour. By then, I reckoned Karen had to have personally bought enough sodas to keep Mr. Kemp’s club financially afloat for the week. Her bladder had to be floating as well. When I joined her at ten o’clock, she was beginning to look as though she’d had it with the place. “The food’s rotten,” she complained. “I asked for a well-done burger and this one is still mooing at me.”
    I didn’t venture a reply. I knew very well the real reason for Karen’s dissatisfaction. It didn’t take an Einstein.
    â€œThe kid who leads your group, did you say he’s blind?”
    â€œYou got that right,” I acknowledged.
    â€œWhat a shame. How about the drummer? Will you introduce me? He’s kind of cute.”
    â€œI’m fairly certain he’s interested in Liz, and she’s into him too.”
    Karen groaned. “There is no justice!” Karen twirled a strand of auburn hair. She lowered her eyes in dejection.
    â€œI’ll have them get you another burger of the non-mooing variety. Honor bright. Okay?”
    Karen looked up and shrugged. “Well, at least the music’s good.”
    I felt better for Karen when a group of boys arrived during the next set. They stood by the bar looking around. I recognized Greg Lawson immediately. I didn’t need very good eyesight because he was easily six foot three and would have stood out in any cr owd. Here I was at center stage and I thought ma ybe he might notice me now but he was still unaware of me as an individual. To him we musicians must be nothing more than part of the club’s atmosphere, strictly background noise.
    It was after the boys had ordered their sodas that I noticed several of them nudgin g one in the group in Karen’s direction. I knew him from all the way back in elementary school. Randy Farrell was tall and broad with an unusually thick neck. He approached Karen shyly, occasionally looking back at his friends for supp ort. I could see that Karen was pleased. She invited him to join her. The other boys in Greg Lawson’s group didn’t bother to socialize with anyone else in the club. They just hung out together, laughing, shoving each other every once in a while, generally goofing around.
    On my break I sat down with Karen and Randy. I could tell they were hitting it off. It thrilled me.
    â€œHi, Giraffe, I mean, Stacy, how’s your summer going?”
    â€œFine, and yours?”
    â€œImproving a whole lot.” He smiled at Karen.
    â€œHow did you average out in American History?” I asked him, remembering it was the one class we shared sophomore year.
    â€œ Managed to pull off a C at the end. I slept through that class for most of the year.” Karen giggled as if he’d said something clever. “It’s true. Ask Stacy.”
    â€œHe did,” I agreed.
    â€œCallan’s so boring he even yawned during his own lectures.”
    Karen smiled at Randy as if to acknowledge his wit. Actually, Randy was kind of a half-wit, but his heart was o kay. Randy smiled back at Karen and then picked up the menu. “Can I order you girls something?”
    â€œI don’t recommend the food here,” Karen warned. “The meat bites back.”
    â€œI’ve got a cast-iron stomach. Coach says that’s what makes me so valuable as a lineman. He wants me to keep putting weight on so I’ll be first-string varsity in the fall. Not that any of this is fat,” he hastened to add. Randy flexed his biceps for Karen.
    â€œYo u are so strong,” Karen responded in an animated, flirtatious manner. I almost groaned. The way she acted seemed ridiculous to me. But