The Major Eights 1: Battle of the Bands Read online

  the right hand to start with.

  Scarlet began singing.

  “Your love is like a song . . . to the

  beat of my heart. . . .”

  It was awful. It

  didn’t sound like

  the song on the

  radio at all.

  Scarlet stopped.

  I was the only one

  playing. “We just

  need practice,” I

  told my friends.

  “This is a love

  song.” Scarlet made a face. “Gross!”

  “And you

  aren’t playing

  with your left

  hand,” said

  Becca. “That’s

  where I watch

  for chords.”

  “Just keep

  playing,” said Maggie. “We’ll get it.”

  Scarlet shrugged. “Also, I only know

  the chorus.”

  I frowned. “Maybe we should skip

  ahead, then.”

  I played the chorus. Scarlet belted

  out the high notes. Maggie picked

  up the beat on the kick drum. Becca

  looked over my shoulder. It finally

  started to sound like the song! Maybe

  this would work after all.

  But Becca still did not play. Finally,

  she took off the guitar strap. She put

  her guitar away in its gig bag.

  We all stopped.

  “What’s wrong?” Scarlet asked her.

  Becca’s face turned red. “I can’t

  play this!” she shouted.

  I blinked. Maggie dropped her

  sticks. Scarlet raised her eyebrows.

  “I told you,” Becca

  said. “I only read

  chords Major chords,

  minor chords. But I

  do not read music.

  This is too hard!”

  She zipped the

  bag shut.

  “Wait!” I cried.

  “Becca, I know it’s

  hard. But we can

  figure it out. We have to. We need

  to play a real song!”

  “Then I guess I am not competing,”

  Becca said. She threw the gig bag

  over her shoulder. She stormed up

  the stairs. The door slammed shut

  behind her.

  “Now what do we do?” Maggie

  asked.

  “We can’t compete without a

  guitar,” I said.

  “We are not a band without a

  guitar,” Scarlet said.

  “We are not a band without Becca,”

  Maggie said.

  My heart sank. Competing in the

  Battle of the Bands was going to be

  harder than I thought.

  Scarlet, Maggie, and I practiced

  without Becca. We practiced for

  several days. But the real song still did

  not sound right. The piano part was

  too hard for me. Scarlet didn’t know

  the tune, so she made up her own.

  Maggie only played her kick drum,

  because she was afraid of playing the

  song wrong.

  And we all missed Becca.

  Later that week, Mom was driving

  me home from school.

  “I haven’t seen Becca lately,”

  said Mom.

  I leaned my cheek against the

  door. “Me neither.”

  “Is she still in the band?” Mom

  asked.

  “No,” I said. “She left because she

  didn’t like the song I picked for us

  to play.”

  “Hmm,” said Mom. “That sounds

  tricky.”

  “It is.” I sighed. “We sound awful

  without her. The Battle of the Bands

  is in one week.”

  “Maybe you

  don’t need to

  win,” said Mom.

  “Maybe you

  should just go

  up there and

  have fun.”

  “But if we win, we can buy

  equipment. If we win, we will show

  everyone that we are a real band.”

  “I think you already are a real

  band, Jasmine. And I think you and

  your friends are at your best when

  you are having fun. Together.”

  I thought about what Mom said.

  Nobody had fun with the song I

  picked. Especially Becca.

  And then I had an idea.

  “Mom! Do you have any paper?”

  “So, what’s so important, Jasmine?”

  Scarlet folded her arms. It was the

  next night. At recess that day, I had

  told my band friends to come over for

  a super-important meeting. I had the

  broken keyboard and hairbrush mic

  ready. Maggie sat behind the drums.

  Even Becca came. But she sat on the

  basement stairs.

  I took a deep breath. “I want us to

  have fun again,” I said.

  Scarlet and Maggie looked at each

  other.

  “Ever since we started playing the

  song I picked, we’ve been fighting.

  Becca got mad and left. We aren’t

  having fun anymore.”

  Scarlet nodded. “I don’t like the

  song,” she said. “You picked it without

  asking us.”

  Maggie whispered, “It is a hard

  song, too.”

  “And there are no chords for Becca,”

  Scarlet said.

  “I know,” I said. “I thought we

  had to do a hard song to win. But it

  doesn’t matter if we win. I just want

  my friends back.”

  Becca came down the steps. “I’m

  sorry I left,” she said. She hugged

  me. Then Scarlet hugged both of us.

  Then Maggie hugged all of us. We

  were a giant dumpling, all squished

  together. I laughed. Scarlet laughed.

  Maggie and Becca laughed. We

  bobbled against each other and

  Maggie tripped. We all went down

  with her. We were a pile of giggles

  on the carpet.

  I sat up. It was good to have all

  my friends back. Now I had to tell

  them my new idea.

  “I have something else to say,” I

  said.

  My friends listened.

  I pulled out sheets of paper.

  Maggie and Scarlet frowned. Becca

  glanced up the stairs.

  “It’s not what

  you think,” I said.

  I passed out the

  pages. “I wrote

  down the song

  we made up

  last week.

  It’s not for the competition or

  anything. It’s just for fun. I created a

  chorus and verses. And I put in guitar

  chords.” I smiled at Becca.

  She looked at the paper. “I can

  play this!”

  “Hey,” said Scarlet. “These are the

  words I was singing!”

  “We should do this!” said Maggie.

  Becca took her guitar out. I played

  notes for her to tune to. Maggie

  rolled on her snare drum to warm up.

  Scarlet sang her scales.

  “We sound crazy!” I said.

  Scarlet laughed. “Hit it, Jasmine!”

  I strung out the notes in the first

  chord, E major. I played them one at

  a time, counting the beats.

  Maggie joined me. She pressed

  the kick drum pedal in time with the


  beat.

  Becca strummed along with us.

  Her face glowed.

  Scarlet began to sing. “Once I was

  inside a box. There I met a crazy fox.

  He told me I had chicken pox. But I

  said . . .”

  We built up to the chorus. Becca,

  Maggie, and I paused. Then we

  played loud. Scarlet sang: “People

  get chicken pox, chickens get fox pox,

  foxes get people pox. That’s a lot of

  crazy talk. . . .”

  Maggie giggled. But she kept the

  beat.

  For the first time, we played a

  whole song together. It was not a real

  song, but it was our song. And that

  was even better.

  “Hey,” Scarlet said. “What if we

  play that song at the Battle of the

  Bands?”

  I frowned. “But I just wrote it down

  for fun.”

  “We definitely should! It’s a great

  song,” Becca said. “And we wrote it!”

  Maggie nodded. “Let’s do it!”

  I didn’t know what to say. I thought

  we were just being silly together.

  Singing this in front of a crowd was

  not my plan. Then again, my friends

  were happy. “Well . . .”

  “Come on, Jasmine,” they begged.

  “Please?”

  I shrugged. “Oh, okay.”

  Maggie and Becca high-fived.

  Scarlet said, “That song is majorly

  funny.”

  “That’s it!” shouted Maggie. “We

  can be the Major Eights! You know,

  ‘major’ like ‘major chords’ and also like

  . . . ‘important.’” She put her hands on

  her hips like a superhero.

  “That and we’re majorly crazy,”

  Scarlet laughed.

  “That’s perfect!” Becca said.

  “Yeah,” I said. But inside, I was

  worried. If we played this song for

  the competition, people would laugh

  at us. My brother would make fun of

  me. Leslie would beat me again. And

  people would not believe we were a

  real band.

  This was not looking good.

  I took a deep breath. The air smelled

  like corn dogs. From behind the stage,

  we could hear Leslie Miller playing her

  piano solo. Ms. Kwan stood ready with

  her laptop. Mom and Dad and Nick

  were out there watching. I huddled

  closer to Scarlet, Becca, and Maggie.

  “We’re still doing ‘Fox Pox,’ right?”

  Scarlet whispered.

  “Definitely,” Becca said.

  I still had time to change their

  minds. “Maybe we should do the

  other one.”

  “What?!” they all whispered.

  “It’s just . . . listen to Leslie! She

  sounds like . . . a grown-up.”

  Leslie finished her solo. The crowd

  cheered.

  Ms. Kwan nodded to the next

  group. They were a lot older than

  us. They wore black leather. The girl

  with the keyboard even had pink

  hair. They carried a sign that said,

  Silver Sporks.

  Maggie said, “Maybe Jasmine is

  right.”

  “But . . . I can’t play the other song!”

  Becca said. “I thought we were doing

  ‘Fox Pox.’”

  “Me, too,” said Scarlet.

  Then the Silver Sporks began. “Your

  love is like a song . . . to the beat of

  my heart. . . .”

  I stomped

  my foot. “That’s

  our song!”

  “Oh, no!”

  said Maggie.

  I listened.

  “They play it

  better than

  we do,” I said.

  “Jasmine,” said Becca, “we have to

  play ‘Fox Pox now.’”

  “But it’s just a crazy song we made

  up on the spot,” I said. “It was just for

  fun!”

  “That’s right,” said Scarlet. “It is fun.

  Which is why I want to do it.”

  “Me, too,” said Becca.

  “Me three,” said Maggie.

  I sighed. “But we might lose,” I said.

  “That doesn’t

  matter,” said

  Scarlet.

  “They’ll laugh

  at us,” I said.

  “It’s a funny

  song!” Becca

  replied.

  “They will think we’re not a real

  band,” I said.

  “So what?” said Maggie. “Jasmine,

  there’s no time left!”

  The Silver Sporks finished their song.

  Ms. Kwan called us over. Becca, Maggie,

  and Scarlet bounced onto the stage.

  I hung my head. The Silver Sporks

  high-fived us on their way down the

  stairs. The keyboard girl with pink hair

  looked at me. She smiled and said,

  “Hey, break a finger.”

  “What?” I asked, surprised.

  “She was being silly,” Becca

  whispered. “She meant ‘good luck.’”

  We took our places on the stage. I

  stared out at the crowd. My parents

  and Nick were in the front. My heart

  sped up.

  But if the Silver Sporks could be

  silly and still be good, maybe we

  could, too. I looked up. Scarlet stood

  proudly, mic in hand. Becca had her

  guitar strapped on. Maggie smiled

  from the drum set. I smiled back.

  Ms. Kwan announced, “And now,

  the Major Eights!” The crowd clapped

  politely.

  I began the chords. I played each

  note, one at a time. Becca and

  Maggie joined in.

  Then Scarlet began to sing.

  At first, the crowd was quiet. But

  slowly, the laughter started. It spread

  through the crowd. My face got hot.

  I felt like running off the stage. But

  my friends kept playing. When we

  got to the chorus and Scarlet sang

  about fox pox, the laughter erupted.

  Everyone laughed. I looked down as I

  played. I could not wait for the song

  to be over.

  And then, it was. The crowd did

  not laugh anymore. They cheered! My

  mouth fell open. They had not been

  laughing at us. They were laughing

  with us. They thought our song was

  funny!

  My parents cheered in the front.

  Even Nick cheered. He shouted, “Go,

  Jasmine! The Major Eights rock!!!”

  I beamed with pride.

  Ms. Kwan smiled wide at us. “Great

  job, girls!”

  The four of us stood together, arm

  in arm. We took a bow. The crowd

  cheered even louder. Someone

  whistled.

  “I can’t believe this is happening!”

  Maggie said.

  “They really like us,” Becca said.

  “Of course they do!” Scarlet agreed.

  “This is the best day ever!” I yelled.

  Becca, Scarlet, Maggie, and I waited.

  We had waited all day for this.

  Leslie came over. “Jasmine, your

  band was great!” she said.

  “Not as good as your piano solo,” I

  told
her. “But thanks!”

  Finally, Ms. Kwan was onstage. She

  held a paper in her hand. “I have

  the results from the judges,” she

  announced. “For Center City’s Battle

  of the Bands, the grand prize winner

  of the thousand dollars is . . . ”

  Maggie crossed her fingers. Scarlet

  held her breath. Becca and I squeezed

  each other’s hands.

  “. . . the Silver Sporks!”

  Our shoulders sagged. But the

  Silver Sporks seemed like a nice group.

  I clapped for them. I was glad they

  won.

  “It is really okay that we didn’t

  win,” Becca said.

  “Maybe we can enter another one

  of these sometime,” Maggie said.

  “I would like that,” I agreed.

  “Me, too,” Scarlet said.

  But Ms. Kwan was not finished.

  After the Silver Sporks got their check,

  she stepped up to the mic again. “We

  also have an honorable mention to

  award,” she said.

  “What’s that?” I whispered.

  “Somebody who was pretty good,

  but didn’t win,” Maggie whispered

  back.

  “The judges think this group has a

  lot of potential,” said Ms. Kwan. “And

  I think we can all agree that they do.

  The honorable mention goes to . . .”

  “. . . the Major Eights!”

  Scarlet screamed. Becca jumped in

  the air. Maggie’s jaw dropped.

  “That’s us!” I shouted.

  “Come on,” Scarlet said. We ran up