Chapter 8 - A Good Idea

It wouldn't do. "You don't just go into an audition like this wearing jeans and a t-shirt." That's what Alexis said to Isaac the day before the audition. She wanted to go all out, to "wow the judges," as she put it. Isaac kept it to himself that it seemed she was being dramatic when she called them that. This whole ambition thing was unusual for her and he didn't want to get in the way, even when she asked him to help her with her makeup.

"I don't know anything about makeup," he complained in distress as he twisted an especially black lipstick out of its silver barrel. He gave it a hopeless grimace.

"You don't need to. Just sit there and let me practice."

That's where he drew the line. It was time to retreat. "Hey!" he shouted as he shook the unyielding door handle. "I can't-"

Alexis held a key in front of a demonic smile that seemed to split her face from ear to ear. "I anticipated that."

"Whose bedroom door locks from the inside!"

Isaac had made for the window. Alexis grabbed him at the waist and tried to pull him back in, but he had a good grip on the window frame. Cheek buried into his back, straining to break his fingers from the window, Alexis grunted, "You can't leave! This is my ambition."

"It's not my ambition. I'm not your dolly!"

"Please!"

Alexis's parents weren't pushovers, but Isaac too often was. Whenever she begged, he yielded. There was no chance that she was going to pry his fingers from this window frame, not with her puny girly arms, but Isaac bowed his head. "No pictures?"

"No pictures!" she eagerly agreed, still tugging with all her might.

There was a belabored pause, filled only with Alexis's desperate grunts of effort, then with a sigh Isaac released his grip on the window. His fingers broke free with a loud scrape of flesh against wood, and the two toppled backward. They landed in a heap, Isaac on top, Alexis's arms and legs sprawling out beneath him.

"Get off of me!" Alexis yelled, although it sounded more like, "Et ohm uum mme!"

By time the afternoon sun had sank from its highest point and was peeking through the bedroom window, both Isaac and Alexis were caked in ghostly whites and wicked blacks from forehead to collar bone, and they were laughing.

"This looks awesome!" Isaac said excitedly.

"I told you this was a good idea."

"You did," he admitted. Now he was eager to push this idea all the way. "What about clothes?"

"Already got us covered!" Alexis pulled some clothes out from her her bed and plopped them on top of the blankets that were still scattered messily from when she'd gotten up that morning. Among her clothing selections were tattered jeans and black t-shirts with the sleeves cut off.

Isaac held up one of the t-shirts for a better look. "Did you cut this with scissors?"

"Let's not talk about that!" Alexis snapped. "Aren't these metal as all heck?"

"Why were they under your bed? Where did you get these?"

"Shh!"

"But-"

"This is for the biggest day of my life," she insisted, now turning her eyes away. "What's a couple articles of clothing next to that?"

Isaac waggled his finger through a hole in the jeans pant-leg, murmuring, "Let's ask your parents."

"Huh?"

"Let's suit up!" he suggested, slipping into her bathroom. As he changed, it occurred to him that he could have escaped into here instead of going for the window earlier. It'd have been smarter. Probably safer, too.

"What do you think?" Isaac asked, coming out of the bathroom.

"Cool!" Alexis said as he did a turn with his arms out. "The spiky, tattered sleeves look great. My turn!" As she zipped across the room and slammed the bathroom door shut, Isaac wondered why she'd cut up clothes for him. He wasn't the one auditioning!

Alexis came out with her hands on her hips, with a triumphant grin and straight back. "What do you think?"

Isaac looked at her shirt, cut off at the midriff. "Uh." One pant-leg had been cut off at the knee, showing a generous view of her smooth leg.

"You don't like it?" Alexis covered her stomach.

"Uh, no, I mean, yes. I do. It looks, um. Hot." His face flushed. Did he just say that?

Alexis hugged her stomach tighter and averted her eyes to the floor. "R-really?" Did he just say that?

"Well, uhm." Isaac looked around for literally anything to talk about. "Oh, look. What if we paint your drumsticks."

"Oh, yeah! That's a good idea!"

They tried to paint the drumsticks to look like skulls, each of them painting one. Side by side, it was apparent that they had different ideas of what metalhead was supposed to convey. Alexis's, on the left, had red eyes and a wicked grin, promising death, destruction, and faces forcefully rocked off. Isaac's, on the right, had friendly white eyes and a round, goofy grin promising a delightful show and cookies on the way out.

Isaac clicked his teeth. "I think I may have misunderstood the project instructions. Mine looks less like it's going to explode your senses with the power of metal, and more like it's going to teach you how to play nice with the other children."

"Well," Alexis said, trying to salvage the misstep, "I'm a girl, so I guess it's O.K." She pointed to the left, "This one will be Hector, and this one," she said, pointing to the Isaac's on the right, "will be. . . Lenny."

"Sounds good. Say," Isaac said, changing the subject, "I've been wondering. What's with those?" He indicated her shoes, which were glossy black mary-janes with a silver-buckled strap.

Alexis pushed her lips out. "They're the only black shoes I have."

Isaac threw up the metal horns, the forefinger and pinky. "Rock on."