Jasper was silent and transfixed, all of his attention focused on the television—if the other Lads hadn't been just as shocked by the talk show they were watching, they'd have wondered what was wrong with him. The Lads were gathered in Eric's suite for the show, skipping fourth block class. Eric was sitting at one of about three computers, paying no attention to what was on the screen; Cal had out his guitar but wasn't playing; Jasper gripped a coffee mug in one hand; Felix had open a trigonometry text book, half-studying for a large unit test that was coming up the following Monday.
"There, there," the talk show host, young, beautiful Jenny Washington, comforted.
The man sniffled and gave Jenny a hug. "Thank you for letting me get that off my chest, Jenny, I really—I just couldn't live with myself..."
"That's what day time television is for," she replied sweetly. "But now we need to go to break. When we get back: Mr. Mangrove will ask one of his children for forgiveness. Will he get it? Or will he get a punch in the head? Stick around!"
"Do your kids become Nazis because of the jeans they wear? Next, on Jenny Washington!" an announcer's voice added, and the shot dissolved in to an add for laundry detergent.
"That's... that's so wrong!" Jasper said in quiet awe. "How is that... How can they... But..."
"Yeah," Felix agreed. "It's great. Pretty soon someone'll hit someone else with a chair!"
"I love that," Cal chimed in.
"You're a pacifist!" Jasper protested.
"So? This isn't real. This is Jenny Washington!" Jasper gave him a long, strange look. Cal blushed slightly. "It's an addiction, ok?"
"Wow," Jasper said. "That was... I mean... My God..."
"I still don't believe you didn't have Jenny Washington at home," Felix said. "It's the best—the very best—talk show. Ever." Jasper turned and stared at him. "Uh... And by best I mean worst. But it's the best at being the worst." He flipped a page in his trig book, wondering what the symbols he was staring at meant.
"It's truly a thing of beauty," Cal admired. "A perfect blend of comedy, tragedy, and true-life, hard-hitting issues... With random violence, of course."
"Remarkable..." Jasper mumbled, as the commercial changed to something more localized. It showed a few girls standing in front of a club in Pallis, with a sign proclaiming it the Rhythm Chalice. The three girls were all in their mid to late teens and they all wore clothes that labeled them as "hip and trendy" : one had straight black hair pulled in to a high pony-tail, a baby T-shirt proclaiming "I did your boyfriend," and a pair of tight flares. The next had shoulder-length platinum hair, with pink tips. She wore a white T-shirt with a very, very short pink skirt and scary-looking heels. The third girl had strawberry blond hair with a daisy tucked behind one ear, and wore a pair of pre-fab bell-bottoms and a tight tie-dyed shirt.
Behind him, Jasper heard something that sounded suspiciously like a heart-broken sigh from Cal.
"Now accepting entries—this year's Chalice Championship! Enter your band in this contest, and see if you have what it takes to beat last year's winners—up and coming pop sensations, LolRock!" The announcer proclaimed, as the girls—evidently LolRock—struck poses and held up a trophy.
"Hey, they look familiar," Jasper said.
"They should," Eric replied irritatedly. "They're in our history class and the musical."
"Oh." Jasper paused. "I bet I'd have known that if I ever went to class. You guys are really bad influences, y'know that?"
"We try," Felix said modestly. "So, Eric—are we in?"
"Yes. And this year..." Eric gave them a dark, serious look. "This year, LolRock goes down." Eric began chuckling maniacally to himself.
"Really? You guys are entering that contest?" Jasper asked, ignoring Eric's sudden creepy hand-wringing. "That's, like, that's cool. I mean, you guys could probably win, I've heard you practice together, like, a million times now. I mean, like, I didn't realize—I wasn't sure you guys were really a band, but I guess—I mean—"
"Don't make me hurt you, Jasper."
"Sorry. So do you guys, like, do you know those girls? That band, I mean? LolRock? Them."
"Yeah," Felix answered. "They're a bunch of no-talent snobs."
"They're full of themselves and in league with the CIA," Eric added.
"Actually, they aren't that bad," Cal argued. "I mean, Greta is pretty nice. She's kind of nice. Really. I mean, underneath she's nice. Really—"
"Cal," Eric interrupted, "I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you're delusional. Get. Over. Her. She won't ever go out with you again. She won't even talk to you. She doesn't like you!"
Cal laughed, ignoring the fact that Eric wasn't joking. "Nah, Greta's just trying to fit in with her friends. Underneath it, she's really a nice girl. Honest. You don't know her like I do! You don't understand her! ... She misses me."
"Cal. Seriously. Get over her."
"She misses me!"
"She said she wishes you would die."
"But... But she didn't mean it."
"She said 'I wish you would die, and I mean it.'"
"But... nuh uh." Cal stuck out his lip poutily.
Jasper said hesitantly, "Um... I'm guessing there's some back story here?"
"Give the boy a prize," Felix replied. "Yeah. It's called The Tragic Story of How Cal and Eric Became Friends. What happened was—"
"Aren't you supposed to be studying?" Cal interrupted. Felix sweatdropped guiltily.
"Yes," he answered. "But... But... It's so obnoxious!"
"Hmm," Eric said thoughtfully. There was a pause and quiet, except for Jasper's fidgeting and the commercial, and Eric typing. "Uh oh. Felix, you'd better be studying."
"What? Why?" Felix asked, getting up to join Eric at his computer.
"I hacked in to your trig teacher's file. And if you don't pass the test, you don't pass the class. And if you fail out of it, you get put in remedial..."
"...And my parents will kill me and then pull me out of here and make me go to the Academy..." Felix finished. This had been the standard threat he'd lived with for two years.
"What?" Jasper asked.
"My parents... They don't want me 'wasting my time with music,'" Felix sighed. "Everyone else in my family for two generations has go to the Academy of Brookesdale and then to Harvard or Yale or Princeton and become a lawyer. Which is what they think I should be doing."
"But—but you're here!" Jasper said.
"My, but you're Mister Perception tonight," Felix answered irritably.
"Man, you've got to pass. If you don't, then how can we have a band and beat LolRock? And—Show's on," Cal said, and everyone's attention turned back to Jenny Washington.
*
It wasn't until much later that night when Jasper remembered the back story he'd missed. "Hey, Felix?" he asked, turning out the light and settling in between his sheets—originally his mother's, they were white with cartooned ducks on them. He'd been mocked extensively by Eric for using them, but they were the only pair that had been salvageable when his room blew up.