Beautiful Music for Ugly Children by Kirstin Cronn-Mills Read Free Book Online Page A

John and I come up with a show about sports—who knew? Before I go to the station, we throw a crate together with some pep band music, some songs about sports, and a few songs from sports movies. Nothing like the theme song from Rocky to get the blood pumping—gonna fly noooooooooooooooooooooooooow.
    Chatting sucks, and I sound like a complete dumbass. Nothing’s flowing. I’m sure John’s cringing in his living room.
    I save “The Horse,” a very obscure funk & soul B side from the sixties, for next to last. Maxfield West’s pep band adores it for its brass parts, so I tell them I brought it for their pleasure. Then I let it slide into a version of “I Wanna Be Sedated” by the University of Nebraska Cornhusker Marching Band. We’ll see if Mara hears it.
    The phone rings when it’s almost finished. My stomach’s in knots, but I pitch my voice as low as it will go. “KZUK, the Z that sucks.”
    A giggle at the other end. “Who knew marching bands could play the Ramones?”
    “Gotta love those obscure tracks.”
    “You are so cool, Gabe. Seeya!”
    “Bye, Mara.”
    If she only knew.

    On my way home I call Paige. She’s out with Bobby X.
    “Did you listen?” I can hear Bobby X in the background, saying, “Who’s that?”
    “Not tonight … we were busy.” There’s a bit of a smirk in her voice, and I can imagine what they were busy with.
    “Make sure you use a condom, and I’ll see you later.” I hear a “Wait!” before I hang up, but I’m not interested in her sex life.
    I try not to be, anyway.

Barack Obama is the new Elvis because
He’s Lived in a Big White House, Too

    Tuesday evening. My mom asks who I want at my graduation party, so she can send the invitations I told her not to get since they say Elizabeth. I tell her I’ll pay for some Gabe announcements, cheap postcard ones or the fancy kind, whatever she wants, but her glare tells me I’m outvoted. I go to my room without giving her any names.
    Paige calls. “You are never, in a million years, going to believe what I saw.”
    “An octopus walking down the street holding Elvis’s hand.”
    “You fool, I saw your graffiti!”
    “My what?”
    She heaves a big sigh. “Remember? ‘Are you an A side or a B side,’ all that?”
    “How do you know it’s mine?” She’s got to be kidding.
    “Stuff like MITCH’S B SIDE = SATAN could have only come from your show.”
    “Where are you?”
    “Corner of Eighteenth Street and Third Avenue.”
    “What are you doing out there?” It’s way out in the industrial section of town.
    “Taking my dad to work so I can have the car later.”
    “Don’t go anywhere.”
    When I get there, I’m amazed. Seven feet high on an abandoned brick warehouse: pink, purple, blue, black, and yellow graffiti, signed by Becca, Mitch (Mitch = Satan!!), Jake, Sarah, and Maggie. The wall says this:
    MITCH’S A SIDE = MITCH. MITCH’S B SIDE = SATAN!
    JAKE LOVES TO JERK OFF TO HIS B SIDE
    SARAH SAYS A SIDE ALL THE TIME
    BECCA’S B SIDE: BOSS
    MAGGIE = BOTH SIDES = EVERY DAY
    The words UGLY CHILDREN BRIGADE are written at the top and BE RADICAL—CLAIM YOUR GROOVE is on the side of the mural. Everything is beautiful—swirls and pretty lines, flowers and colors everywhere. My mouth is hanging open.
    Paige elbows me. “Looks like you’ve got fans.”
    “How did anybody know to listen?”
    “I Facebooked it.”
    “Dammit!” I’m pissed. “You said you’d keep my secret!”
    “You told me not to tell anybody about Gabe, not the actual show. I just said there was a cool radio show on at midnight on Fridays on KZUK and everyone should listen. If you were ever on Facebook, you could have yelled at me a week ago.”
    Down at the bottom of the mural there’s a drawing of a trumpet and the words PEP BAND FUCKING RAWKS! THE HORSE!
    Paige goes to get in her car. “Coming to my house, Mr. Big Shot Radio DJ?”
    “Sure thing, Ms. Loudmouth.” I cannot believe that wall. We go to her house and she chats at