Next piece! More on the way tonight, hopefully. 
ETA: ugh, username fail! This is for Kairi, not Kaila! *facepalm* Apologies, dude. Valley Christian Academy has won the Regional Show Choir Invitational for the past six years running, so Mr. Cook thinks going to see them perform might be inspirational. "In a secular way, okay?" he says, leading them across the field to the parking lot. "Glee Club is a faith-neutral zone." He's wearing a fedora today. He also has a rubber-chicken-shaped finger puppet on his left hand, which is kind of making it difficult for Kris to take him seriously.
"Mr. Cook?" says Megan, from the front of the group. "I don't see a school bus yet."
Mr. Cook adjusts his hat, finger puppet waving over his head in the sunset, like a little yellow flag. "Yeah," he says. "About that." He's stopped walking now; the rest of the group stops walking, too, gathering around him. "School buses are apparently pretty expensive and the school board is not exactly swimming in cash. So we're improvising." He pats the hood of the van behind him with one hand, beaming at everybody impartially.
The van is purple (and white in spots, where somebody tried to cover up some rust with house paint). It has stickers with little flaming skulls on them all along the front bumper. Across the sliding door on the side of the van, someone's spray painted
The Malignant.
"The malignant
what?" asks Anoop, from behind Kris.
Mr. Cook ignores him. "All right, there should be just enough seatbelts. I hope none of you guys is claustrophobic." He pulls open the door.
The seats are covered with what looks like green muppet fur and there's kind of a...smell wafting out from inside. People hesitate. Kris gives Mr. Cook a doubtful look.
"It's a band van," Mr. Cook says. "Band vans are supposed to smell like that. Come on, guys, seriously. We're going to be late."
Megan shrugs and climbs in, heading straight for the back row of seats. Kris follows her, grabbing the window seat in the second row. The actual window is covered with more spray paint -- Kris wonders what's written out there, on the other side. The ceiling's fabric covering is missing. Somebody stuck little glow in the dark stars to the remaining foam stubble, and also drew a smiley-faced penis on it in sharpie. On the dashboard, there's one of those little grass-skirted dancing girls, only its head has been replaced with the head from a George Bush bobble head doll. The end result is disturbing on a whole bunch of levels.
Adam settles into the seat next to Kris's, fishing for his seatbelt kind of gingerly. Kris nudges him, points at the bobble head thing. Adam gives an elaborate shudder.
"Okay," says Mr. Cook from the driver's seat. "Who likes Supertramp?" He waves his own hand in the air, wildly, bouncing in his seat. People shift nervously -- it's an hour's drive to VCA. "Just kidding!" says Mr. Cook. "The stereo's actually busted. Ha. You guys are such suckers." And then he starts the engine.
***
The VCA show choir is called Unlimited. They have shiny sequined vests and bowties, and their show starts with an actual pyrotechnic thing that goes off right on the stage. There's a kind of hush as the smoke clears, and then some dude with a voice almost as husky as Allison's sings "Jesus, you are my best friend, and you will always be," his voice rising above the soft "ooh oohing" of the rest of the chorus. It's an audience favourite apparently; the crowd goes wild. The guy whose voice it is steps out from the rest of the choir to pace at the front of the stage. His vest is slightly sparklier than everybody else's. The lenses of his glasses catch the light. "It's a tough world out there for teens," he says, lifting a palm toward the ceiling. "A lot of temptations. A lot of pressures. We have some public school guests in the audience tonight and I'll bet they know what I'm talking about. Drugs. Liquor. Aaa-aal the pleasures of the bod-aaay."
The audience goes "
amen" all around them. Some girl reaches over Allison's seat to rub her back in a supportive way. She edges a little closer to Kris, her eyes wide.
"But when things get too hard," says the kid on the stage, bouncing a little on his wingtips. "When things get
too hard, I'm here to testify tonight that there is somebody who will always be there." And then he does this twirly thing with an arm outflung and the rest of the choir joins in on the first verse, singing in eight-part harmony, waving their arms over their heads in perfect unison.
***
After the show, they file outside into the parking lot behind the school, their ears still ringing, and huddle by the doors while Mr. Cook goes to get the van. They're all kind of subdued and quiet -- regionals already seems like a lost cause and it's only the beginning of the year -- so everybody notices when a plain metal door swings open at the side of the school, revealing a small group of sparkly-vested Unlimited members. The kid who'd been preaching during the first number leads the group to them, smiling broadly the whole time. "Hi," he says, reaching out to shake hands with Anoop, who happens to be nearest. Anoop looks vaguely alarmed. "I'm Danny Gokey," the kid says, shaking hands with Adam (who's beaming like it's his birthday) and Megan and then Kris himself. "We just wanted to come out and say hey to you guys, maybe provide some encouragement and stuff. We know things must be hard."
There's a pause. "Okay," says Anoop, eventually. "Thanks?"
Danny beams at him and nods a few times. "No problem," he says. "And listen, what we were singing about in there, we really believe that. If any of you ever wants to talk about the Lord or being saved or any of that, I'm into it. You can hit me up on MySpace, okay?" He puts his hand on Kris's shoulder, gives it an encouraging squeeze.
"I already am a Christian," Kris says.
Danny seems not to hear him. He rocks Kris back and forth a couple of times, letting his gaze sweep the group of them, then shakes his head and presses his lips together. "You all are just so inspiring," he says to them. "Trying to make music in such a dark place. Stay in touch." And then he leads his friends back inside.
Nobody says anything for a moment, and then Adam puts his hand on Kris's shoulder and shakes him back and forth a few times, peering earnestly into his face. Kris rolls his eyes, grinning in spite of himself. "Cut it out," he says, shoving at Adam's wrist.
"Sorry, little buddy," Adam says. "It's just, you're so
inspiring. I can't help myself."
Kris shakes his head, still kind of laughing, and shoves two hands over his face. "We are so doomed," he says.
It was a rhetorical question, lol -- everyone probably knows I'm a slasher at heart by now, right? Kris just can't help but notice, well, pretty much everything about Adam.
It was a rhetorical question, lol -- everyone probably knows I'm a slasher at heart by now, right? Kris just can't help but notice, well, pretty much everything about Adam.
