I’m with the Band
By Melanie Brown
Copyright © 2005
Part 8
“Hey girlfriend!” said Kayla as she stepped behind me
in the lunch line.
“Will you cut that out!” I whispered to her. “Someone
is going to hear you!”
Kayla giggled and said, “Sorry. We never got around
to fixing your hair last night, did we? It still looks a little girlie.”
“Well, you did get a little carried away with your
make-over.” I said, annoyed.
Looking indignant, Kayla said, “Well, you could have
said ‘no’ any time you wanted, you know.”
Frowning, I said as I reached for a scoop of rubber
textured lasagna, “Okay, you win…as usual.” Kayla just smiled.
As we exited the lunch line, Kayla called to me, “Oh
please sit with us again!”
I looked over at the table where I was headed. My
gaming friend Jason was at the table. He’d gotten the latest shooter game over
the weekend and I wanted to hear what he had to say about it.
“Please, Mike? Come on.” Kayla pleaded.
If Kayla could turn into an animal, she’d be a
perpetual rain-drenched kitten mewing at the door. Only the coldest of hearts
could say no. I can give Jason a call later.
“Okay, Kayla. But I’m going to get a bad reputation
sitting with you all the time!”
Looking puzzled, she said, “I don’t know why.
Everyone likes us!”
“You’re girls…and I’m not dating any of you. I’m
afraid of what the guys will think if I’m always just hangin’ with girls.”
“Oh, who cares? Will you please sit down now?”
As we sat down, Holly, a really cute blonde, handed
Kayla a newspaper clipping. “Here, Kayla. I clipped this from my Mom’s
National Informer she got yesterday at the Circle K. Looks like you’ve lost
your chance – again – with Tommy.”
Kayla took the clipping and started to look at it.
Holly continued, “Looks like he’s met a new girl.”
Holly looked over at me and said, “According to the article, she’s the lead
singer in John Gray’s Band. Isn’t that your brother’s band, Mike?”
A shaft of fear bolted down my spine, but I maintained
my composure and said, “Yeah…yeah it is. She’s a pretty good singer.” I heard
Kayla giggling and she nudged me in the ribs.
“Let me read the article!” said Kayla as Holly started
to tell more.
Kayla smoothed the clipping on the table in front of
her, and then started to read. "Hollywood's latest heartthrob, Tommy
Kincaid, really knows how to throw a Sweet Sixteen party. The b-day
festivities took place at the famed Biltmore Hotel and anyone who's anyone was
definitely there. But the big question on everyone's lips was not when Tommy's
next movie was being released, but just who that girl who came with him was.
National Informer has the scoop!
"Her name is Michelle Grayson. Never heard of
her? Don't worry! You'll soon be hearing about her -- a lot! Ms.
Grayson is the lead singer in an up-and-coming band called John Gray's Band and
has also been tagged as the new teen spokesperson for..." Kayla paused,
and tried to hold back a laugh, putting her hand over her mouth. Continuing,
she said, "...for Tampax' products for teens." She glanced at me
with wide, laughing eyes.
Kayla continued reading the article, "This teen
hottie sings as good as she looks. Record execs are expecting, excuse the pun,
record breaking sales for this golden voiced song bird."
Kayla skipped ahead in the article, saying,
"Blah, blah, bleh-blah blah..." Then she started reading again,
"When our reporter caught up to Mr. Kincaid inquiring about his
relationship with Ms. Grayson, Tommy smiled slyly and admitted they were
dating, but she had to return to her home to finish the school year. Mr.
Kincaid was quoted as saying, 'Michelle is the most exciting girl I've ever
met. She's beautiful, she's funny, and she's got the most beautiful voice I've
ever heard...I mean, how could you not love her?'"
Holly said, "Yep, it sounds like Tommy is totally
in love." She laughed and said, "Looks like you lost out again,
Kayla!"
Kayla snorted, "As if I ever had a chance
anyway!" She flashed me a dirty look, and then winked.
Gina, another girl at the table turned to me and
asked, "So, Mike. Tell us about Tommy's girlfriend! What's she like?
She looks a little like you."
Smirking, Kayla asked, "And does she really use
Tampax or is she just saying she does for the money?"
My face turned beat red. I stammered a bit, regained
my composure and finally managed to say, "Um, well, Michelle is very
nice. She does sing good and I felt like I'd known her my whole life. And
we're cousins. Distant cousins." To Kayla, who looked like she was about
to explode, I said, "And no, I didn't ask her about which feminine hygiene
products she uses."
Kayla passed the clipping around. "Look, here's
her picture."
Taking the clipping, Wendy, another girl at the table
said, "Wow, she is pretty. No wonder Tommy is in love with
her."
"The article didn't say anything about him being
in love.” I protested.
Kayla pointed at the clipping and said, “It says right
here that Tommy said, ‘how could you not love her?’”
“That doesn’t mean anything. It’s just an
expression.”
Holly looked at me with a puzzled expression and said,
“Why? What do you care? Do you have a crush on Tommy too?” The girls all
laughed.
* * *
Kayla and I left the lunch room early, and as soon as
we entered a mostly empty hallway, Kayla suddenly kicked me in the shins.
Laughing, she burst out, “Why didn’t you tell me last
night you’re selling tampons on the side? That’s freakin’ hilarious! Have you
tried them out?” More giggles.
“Because I plan to call my agent and tell him to
cancel that deal.” I said, bending down to rub my shin.
“No you can’t!” exclaimed Kayla. “It’s too funny!
You have to do them!”
“How can I endorse a product I physically can’t use?”
I said. After pausing a moment or two, I said, “You know, why bother? Mr.
Winters will just win the argument anyway. He makes his money by me making
money.”
As we walked down the hall, Kayla kept giggling, and
then she’d look at me and laugh, and then go back to giggling. I looked down
the hall way and the doors began opening as kids started to come back inside to
return to class as lunch period ended.
We were just about to pass a girls’ restroom when two
girls suddenly emerged, not noticing us. One girl said to the other. “God! I
hate wearing tampons!”
Without thinking, I said from behind her, “Have you
tried Satin Teen tampons from Tampax? They’re comfortable, flushable and
biodegradable.”
The girl turned around, gave me an odd look. She said,
“Freak!” and hurried away. Kayla almost collapsed to the floor she was
laughing so hard.
* * *
As Mom drove the car up into the driveway, she
commented, "You've been very quiet today. Anything you want to talk
about?"
I sat there in silence for a moment, just staring
blankly out the windshield. Finally I said, "Mom. I uh...I really don't
want to be a tampon spokesman. I mean, how can I stand up there in front of
cameras and people and say I use tampons and you should too?"
Mom looked at me for a second and said, "Is that
what's bothering you? Honey, I can understand your embarrassment endorsing
something like tampons. But really, you're not selling tampons. You're
selling an image. Tampax wanted a cute, everybody's girl-next-door type to
promote their products. You're really selling that image, not the
products."
I frowned at Mom and said, "That sounds a lot
like Mr. Winters' horse puckey to me. Image or not, it'll still be me, a guy,
trying to tell girls how much I enjoy wearing tampons for God's sake!"
"Nobody knows that Michelle Grayson is not really
a girl. You're already selling that image." said Mom.
"But that's for us! The band. You said yourself
that without me, the band wouldn't have gotten this far!" I exclaimed.
Mom shook her head and said, "If it wasn't for Michelle,
the band wouldn't have gotten this far." Mom hesitated a second and then
continued, "Honey, do you really want to pass on this deal? Mr. Winters
told me that other companies, all selling female products, are showing interest
in using you as a model, or as a spokesperson. Cosmetics and clothes companies
are all looking at you for ads. Especially if you become famous with the
band."
"But Mom! I can wear cosmetics! I can wear
clothes! I don't have periods! I don't really even know what a light flow or
a heavy flow really means! "
"Do you want me to tell Mr. Winters you're
declining Tampax' offer? Their print ad is already in the 'pipe-line' and will
be coming out in magazines probably before July and newspapers before summer.
They've already spent a lot of money on you," said Mom.
"I don't care! Tampons are...well, they're a
very personal thing and totally girl. I know I'm not explaining myself very
good. Kayla saw an article from one of those stupid tabloids you buy at the
grocery store and found out I'm selling tampons. She made fun of me all
day!" I regretted saying that about a nano-second after it left my mouth.
"Your friend Kayla? Why would she think it was
you?" Mom asked, sounding suspicious.
"I guess I told her. She promised not to
tell," I said quietly. "I really don't think she will."
Mom was clearly not happy. She said, "How could
you? That jeopardizes all of us! If she blabs that to her friends, selling
tampons will be the least of your worries! What were you thinking?"
"You have any idea how frustrating it is to have
done something cool like make an album and meet movie stars and you can't tell
anyone?! I wanted to tell someone! She's my best friend. She won't say
anything," I said, not sounding very convincing.
As Mom started to get out of the car she said,
"You better pray she doesn't. I'll talk to Mr. Winters that you're having
understandable problems with being associated with tampons. But I think he'll
want you to continue being their spokesperson."
Sarcasm in my voice, I said, "That's just because
he gets paid when I get paid. He doesn't care about anything else!"
Mom was about to close the car door and stopped. She
said, "That may be true, Mike. But he wouldn't try if he didn't believe
in us and especially you. Trust me, a man like Mr. Winters wouldn't waste his
time on anyone if he didn't believe in their potential. I know it sounds bad
that he views you as a goldmine. But it's because he believes in you -- your
potential -- he's spending extra time trying to get you involved in advertising
and modeling as well as singing. He told me that if you worked hard, Michelle
Grayson could be the next big thing."
I almost shouted, "Yeah! Michelle! Not Mike!
Michelle! Mike is a nobody! It's bad enough that I'll never really be a man
and you and everyone else has to rub it in by wanting me to be a girl!" I
jumped out of the car and slammed the door and ran inside the house.
* * *
When Mom opened my bedroom door, I was sitting on the
edge of the bed, shaking with anger. I didn't even look up at her.
She stood there for a moment in silence. Finally she
said, "Honey, I know this is hard for you." She sat down next to me.
Taking my hand, she continued, "Mike, I can
understand your feelings about having to pretend to be a girl and how unfair it
is that you had that terrible accident. Neither your father or I, or even John
for that matter, think of you as anything other than our son."
Interrupting, I said, "John thinks it's funny
what he did to me."
Looking horrified, Mom said, "No, he doesn't,
Honey. John feels sick about the whole thing. More than once I've found him
alone and crying. He's very angry with himself over what he did to you."
"He coulda fooled me!" I cried. "He's
always mean to me."
Mom nodded and said, "I know. I've talked to him
about it. Personally, I think it's his own way of dealing with it. He doesn't
want to be reminded of what he did by avoiding being sympathetic to you."
"Well, it's his fault!" I snapped.
"And I'll never forgive him for it."
Mom stroked my hair and said, "Please don't say
that. I know you don't mean it. John feels very bad about what he did, and I
know that before too long, he'll come to terms with it."
There was a long pause as Mom continued to stroke my
hair. She suddenly stopped, hand frozen in mid stroke. Slowly she folded her
hands in her lap and she began studying the floor.
I looked at her curiously and finally said,
"Mom?"
She didn't say anything for several seconds. I saw a
tear well up in her eyes. She finally looked over toward me and said,
"I'm really sorry, Mike. I never should have talked you into pretending
to be a girl. I never gave your feelings enough consideration."
I put my head on her shoulder and said, "It's
okay, Mom. I wouldn't have been in the band otherwise. I don't mind being
Michelle in small doses, if that's what it takes to be in the band. I do think
a whole week was just a bit too much." Actually, it really wasn’t okay,
but it didn’t feel right to say so.
Mom said, "I'll talk to Mr. Winters and see what
he says. He's not used to being told 'no'."
"Thanks, Mom," I said. We both sat there
for over a minute in silence. Mom continued to stroke my long hair.
Mom stopped and looked at me as she lifted some long
strands of my hair between her fingers and then slid her hand down. "I'm
sorry, Mike. It's just you have such pretty hair."
"That's what Kayla said when she was giving me a
make-over."
"Kayla gave you a make-over? You let her?"
asked Mom with a puzzled look. "After this speech about not wanting to
pretend to be a girl, and you let Kayla dress you up?"
I immediately got defensive. "She wanted to see
Michelle."
Mom nodded and fell back into silence. She was
shouldering a lot of responsibility and I'm afraid I made it worse by telling
Kayla and added to her worries.
"Mom? Would you brush my hair? Then show me how
to braid it?"
Mom's mood changed instantly and her expression
brightened. She said, "Sure, Honey. I'd love to."
* * *
When we finally emerged from my room, Mom was in a
much better mood. I had to admit to myself that it felt good to have someone
brush my hair and as she braided it, Mom seemed to really enjoy teaching me
something girlie.
Dad had come home and was sitting on the couch,
reading the newspaper. I could tell it irritated Mom that Dad was oblivious to
the pressure she was under trying to keep the band afloat.
The other thing I noticed, which I'd missed when I had
stormed through the living room earlier, was three bouquets of flowers on the
coffee table.
Dad looked up at me and said, "Did you finally
get a haircut?" He paused a moment, then added, "Oh, it's just
braided. That's not very boyish, son."
I shrugged and said, "Being a girl's my job,
Dad. Just like selling schmuck's more insurance than they need is
yours." Dad frowned and started to say something, but I quickly added,
"What's with the flowers?" I decided I needed to have my head
examined as I was suddenly defending being girlish.
Mom looked a little uncomfortable and said, "They
came this afternoon. I'll give you just one guess who they're from."
"Tommy."
Mom nodded.
I suddenly felt cold. I said, "That means he
knows where I live! He'll be knocking on our door!"
Mom shook her head and said, "No. Mr. Winters'
office wouldn't release that information, so Tommy had the florist call Hal's
office for the address."
I sighed, "Thank God! That would be a disaster
if Tommy came to our house!"
"I think he's much too busy to bother coming out
here, anyway," said Mom. "I need to get dinner started. Want to
help?"
Mom seemed to be exposing a suppressed desire for a
daughter. I said, "Sure, Mom. What do you want me to do?"
* * *
I just finished my homework. I glanced at the clock
and noted the rapid approach of bedtime. There was a knock on the door. It
was still too early for John to be off from his job at Taco Bell. I said,
"Come in."
Mom came in and sat down next to me on the bed.
"I just got off the phone with Mr. Winters. Needless to say, he's very
disappointed that you would turn down such a lucrative opportunity. He said
he'd check to see if he could get you out of your contract."
"I didn't sign a contract," I protested.
"Apparently you did when we were signing all
those papers late Saturday," said Mom.
"You said it was all 'standard stuff' and not to
bother reading it!" I exclaimed.
"Sorry."
"Do you think I should stay in the deal?" I
asked.
Mom shrugged and said, "It's your life, Honey. I
thought it was a wonderful opportunity for exposure. But if you're not
comfortable with it, well..." Her voice trailed away.
"Great! I'm glad that's over. The last thing in
the world I want to do is to be on television, telling people I use
tampons!" I felt like a load had lifted from my shoulders.
* * *
I sat in my seat, completely numb and staring blankly
at the blackness outside the airline window. Mom sat next to me, reading a
book. This was not a happy Friday.
I was on my way back to Hollywood for a quick
weekend. When Mr. Winters checked with Tampax' marketing department about my
contract, they upped my pay fifteen percent instead. He decided to not kill
the contract and told me that for an income that size for an at-the-time
complete nobody, I could put up with the indignity of hawking tampons.
We had a very tight schedule to shoot a television
commercial Saturday for Satin Teen tampons.
End of Part 8
since 9/19/05