Bandit has a band that is not quite put together. Her and her two best friends go on a rockin' adventure. But she has to find a new drummer, a place to practice,and hide it from her father all at o...
“How does that sound?” Dash asked from across the room. He was a year younger than Derek and Bandit, but had more soul than both of them combined. Derek made a show of yawning, causing Bandit to drive her knee lightly into his stomach.
“Be nice. It was nice,” Bandit yawned. Dash gave her a look that told her that she was being quite crabby. “Ok, ok. It’s bedtime for a certain singer.”
She took her time moving from Derek’s lap. Dash already had his guitar into it’s tattered case. She bit her lip at the shabby thing each time she saw it. Her family taught her the value of a instrument, and she felt like Dash was neglecting his beautiful 6-string.
She knew he wasn’t and let it go, like she did every night since they had decided this wasn’t just jamming anymore. She had to learn to understand that everyone can’t afford Gucci-expensive straps for their stuff.
She also knew he couldn’t afford a strap at all, so the Gucci-expensive straps were just a dream for the boy.
“Hey Dasher, Derek,” Bandit sing songed.
“Hey, Bandit?” They echoed back, looking up from where they were getting their stuff ready to go.
They all moved their equipment and got into their places around a small table at the back of the room. Bandit threw her feet up and winced as her boots caused the whole piece of furniture to wobble. Dasher dealt a hand of cards quick and Derek barely had time to pick his up when Gerard knocked on the door and came into the garage.
“Four ace-Go fish,” Bandit stuttered out. Gerard didn’t like her playing poker, but she wasn’t, really. This was a gig they set up for when someone was going to see.
“Four aces is a good hand,” Gerard raised his eyebrow. “Don’t pass that up.”
“Go fish?” Dasher squeaked, his face a bright pink. He hated to lie.
“Give me the cards, Bandit.”
Bandit pretended to pout and gave him the set. He just rolled his eyes and looked around the garage. He apparently thought they were drinking, gangbanging, and doing speed in this place. If they were tripping they would have thought they were in a prison in Russia somewhere.
“No more gambling,” He lectured, pocketing the deck of playing cards. “Do...teenaere stuff, please. Not adult stuff.”
“OK, Dad,” Bandit ushered him away and then sat back at the table. Dash started to giggle.
“Guys. We have two guitarists, but no drummer!”
“So? We’ll get a drummer.”
“How the hell are we supposed to hide a drum set when your father comes in like that?” He laughed so loudly Bandit thought the roof would cave in.