Rhonda beamed at me. “I TOLD YOU WE WOULD ROCK!”

The crowd was chanting, “MORE! MORE! MORE!”

This is usually the place where I would say something like And then I woke up.

But this was real.

“Let’s do another one!” I shouted over the noise of the crowd. But Missy Trillin was already storming onto the stage. She grabbed the microphone and yanked it out of Rhonda’s hands. Then she hit the crowd with her Death Glare.

The room was as silent as a grave. My grave.

“Well,” Missy said finally. The microphone made her voice boom off the walls. “That was surprising. Especially since everyone knows Georgia’s so… lame.” She smirked.

For a moment, nobody spoke. My throat burned like I’d swallowed some hot lava. Everything got blurry. Run! my brain shouted. Don’t let her get the hook!

But before I could turn and rush away, someone shouted, “Boo!” Then someone else joined in. “Boo, Missy!”

I heard Sam’s voice. “We want an encore!”

“En-core! En-core! En-core!” the crowd chanted. I couldn’t believe it. They were standing up to Missy. Was her power starting to crumble?

“I’m sorry, we don’t have time,” Missy said into the microphone. “The next band is—”

“En-CORE! En-CORE!”

The shouts washed down on me like cold rain. I blinked, and my tears cleared away. I watched Missy speaking into the microphone, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying. The crowd was too loud. They wanted another song.

And—right at that moment—I realized something important: I wanted to give them one.

“Be quiet!” Missy hollered, but nobody heard her. Or maybe they did, but they just didn’t care.

“Get off the stage, Missy,” I snapped, reaching for the microphone.

Missy stuck out her foot and I stumbled forward, windmilling my arms. I tried to regain my balance, and I reached out—

A couple of kids in the front row caught me. I wasn’t hurt. I looked up just in time to see Missy gaping down at her missing skirt in horror. Then she stared out at everyone—laughing at her.

Rhonda offered Missy a tambourine to hold in front of her underpants, but Missy just batted it away. Then she let out a shriek and ran off the stage.

Rhonda looked down at me. “SHOULD WE DO ANOTHER SONG?” she asked.

“Definitely!”

Rhonda held out a hand and hauled me up onstage. I strapped on my electric guitar as the crowd let out a huge cheer. We tore up the next song, and two more after that. Then we had to bow for, like, five full minutes. Rhonda was eating it up—blowing kisses to the crowd and winking at the cutest boys.

As we headed offstage, I gave Rhonda a high five. Nanci, Mari, and Patti were squealing with excitement.

“I can’t wait for us to play at Airbrook Arts!” Mari said.