Read Online Pop Princess by Rachel Cohn - Free Book Online

helped me get a grip. “So school sucks? Time to WAKE UP! Nobody can change the situation but YOU. Don’t I remember you telling me that swoony white boy at the pizza place was in a band? Well, aren’t you a singer? Do the math, Wonder, xo, Treen”
    It took me a few weeks after the Homecoming Dance to get up the courage, but one evening I was walking home from dance class when I turned down a certain street where a certain Doug Chase lived. The band was rehearsing in the garage. I could hear the guitar wails halfway down the street, even over the roar of the nearby ocean. I walked right on in and said, “Hey.” I never would have been so bold if we had been at school, where my outcast badge would likely have created invisible laser beams to bounce me away from the cool people had I dared approach them.
    There were four guys hanging out: Doug on electric guitar, another guy on bass, a guy on drums, and one at a keyboard. “Wanda, right?” Doug asked. I couldn’t tell if he was teasing. Despite the name mistake, his tone did not suggest I was the biggest loser he’d ever encountered in his garage.
    Step 1: check.
    â€œWonder!” I said.
    The guys were all staring at my chest. I realized I was still wearing my leotard under my short skirt and that my cleavage was spilling out. I untied the cardigan sweater wrapped around my waist and put it on. The past six weeks of dance classes were slowly turning my flabby figure into a lean, mean fighting machine, but if you’re gonna be flaunting a leotard and tight skirt in front of your crush, excess boobage could be considered overkill.
    The guys all looked bummed. Their sound had been loud, but apparently not pleasing to them. Doug shook his head. “It’s just not happening for us today, Wanda.”
    â€œMy name’s Wonder,” I stated again.
    â€œWonder,” they all repeated. The guy on drums said, “The B-Kid, right?”
    â€œGuess so,” I murmured, deflating.
    Doug perked up. “You ready to sing, Wonder? I told the guys about you.”
    â€œSure. What song have you been rehearsing?”
    â€œâ€Šâ€˜Take Me to the River.’ You probably don’t know it. It’s an old song by—”
    â€œAl Green!” I interrupted. God bless Trina for the CD burn mixes she had been sending me so that I could listen to the singers whose vocal stylings she thought I should study.
    The guys all nodded enthusiastically, at least as enthusiastically as a contingent of stoner musician guys could.
    Doug tossed the mike my way and without saying a word the guys started playing the song. I didn’t have time to think. I just started singing the first verse, and Doug’s Band, with Wonder Blake at the mike, took off from there.
    Step 2: check.

Thirteen
    For the month of November, I forgot all about Tig and any hopes of becoming a pop princess. I even forgot about nagging Mom to take me to get a learner’s permit. I was the new chick singer with Doug’s Band, so good they sometimes let me sing solo along with backup for Doug, so good they even bought me my own “Doug’s Band”-emblazoned T-shirt. I did have to wonder if they really thought I wore a “small” or if they just wanted to check out my rack in the wicked tight tee.
    Word spread fast at Devonport High. Wonder Blake was no longer just a former summer B-Kid—she sang with Doug’s Band. The revised secret memo might have read, Wonder Blake: Okay not to treat her like a nobody. Tread carefully.
    Little things changed at school. Seats opened for me at lunch. Girls complimented me on my lip gloss in the bathroom. Guys stared dreamily at me in study hall when I sat at my desk and read song sheets, mouthing the lyrics to myself. Between Doug’s Band and my part-time job, I wasn’t studying much (at all), so my G.P.A. wasn’t improving, but I couldn’t have cared less.
    What did not change