Talk about no sense of humor. The rest of the school was laughing about the incident, but no, not the principal.

Then she hauled Rick into the office to ask him about everything. Any other guy would have just fessed up that he and Adrian used my boom box to play his music, and they forgot to put my Beach Boys CD back, but not Rick. He was all, "I don't know why Chelsea played my song at the pep assembly. I never thought she was a fan of my music, but it looks like her taste in bands is improving." Then he gave me the thumbs-up sign. "Rock on, Chels."

Which made me think it hadn't been accidental at all. While the principal wrapped up her lecture with a stern warning that as cheerleaders we were ambassadors of the school and nothing like this had better happen again, I went over all the facts in my mind. We had a stereo system in the living room that had better speakers than my boom box. If the maroon-haired duo had wanted to listen to one of Rick's CDs, why had they chosen my boom box? Also, Adrian had a boom box in her room, why not use that one? And why lie about it to the principal?

The only reason I could see was that Rick wanted to make a fool of me at the pep assembly and now he wanted to get me in trouble.

As we all left the principal's office he turned back to me and said, "Hey, sorry this happened. I know how annoying it is when you're in front of a crowd, trying to perform and the music just disappears. Like say, when someone unplugs your band equipment in the middle of a concert."

"I didn't do that," I said. Which was technically true. I hadn't done it; the stranger I was chasing down had.

"Right. We're both innocent. And by the way, I'm innocent of anything else that happens too." He walked off before I could respond. Which was probably for the best. I mean, there is a big difference between accidentally unplugging someone's equipment as you run by, and purposely setting out to sabotage, humiliate, and then get a whole squad of cheerleaders in trouble. Rachel and Aubrie hadn't even been at his dance. So why take revenge on them?

And what exactly did he mean that he was innocent of anything else that happened? Was that some sort of threat?

At lunch Samantha and I explained to Aubrie and Rachel what had happened at the dance. I pushed my salad around my plate without eating it. "So not only is he dating Adrian, now apparently he's trying to ruin my life, one painful day at a time."

Samantha pulled an apple from her lunch sack. "But you sounded really good up there singing."

"Did I?"

Aubrie nodded. "I wish I could sing that well."

My frustration with Rick momentarily evaporated while I considered this. I'd taken choir up until junior year, but to tell you the truth, I'd only signed up for it to get out of taking orchestra. I'd seen those flute and clarinet players wiping the spit out of their instruments and I'm sorry, but anything that involves large quantities of spit doesn't appeal to me. Mr. Metzerol, the music teacher, had never really forgiven me for not joining the show choir, but cheerleading practice was more important.

Still, it was nice to know that I hadn't made a total fool of myself. So there, Rick.

Rachel took a sip of her milk, considering. "I don't think his song had anything to do with getting back at you. I think he just wanted to advertise his party."

"What party?" I asked.

My friends exchanged glances. Rachel leaned toward me. "You haven't heard? Rick's band is playing at the Hilltop Friday night. He rented out the place for his party. He's practically invited the entire senior class."

"His friends are passing out flyers about it," Aubrie said. "Adrian gave me one."

Now that she mentioned it, I had seen people carrying around pieces of blue paper, but I hadn't asked anyone what they were, and everybody who talked to me in classes were too busy commenting on my assembly performance (Hey, when does the music video come out?) to mention anything else.

Aubrie took the flyer from her notebook and handed it to me. It showed a photocopied picture of Rick and two other guys standing with electric guitars. Blue Rick, by the way, looked about as normal as the real Rick. The flyer read, "Come dance today to tomorrow's hottest band: Rick and the Deadbeats!"

"They're moving out all the tables for the night and turning the restaurant into a dance floor," Rachel said. "Everyone is talking about it."

"Everyone is going," Aubrie added.

I put my fork down on my lunch tray. "To Rick's party? How did this happen? Since when did he become cool?"

Rachel stirred her spaghetti around with her fork. "Since he made you and Mrs. Jones sing a duet in front of the whole school and the rest of the cheerleading squad dance to it." She gave a small grunt. "Like I'm not going to have recurring nightmares about this day for the rest of my life."

Samantha patted my hand. "Don't listen to her. No one is laughing at us." More patting. "They're laughing with us. Really hard."

Rachel picked up her fork and waved it in Samantha's direction. "This is mostly your fault, you know."

"My fault?" she asked.

"Yeah, during elections last year when Rick was a royal jerk to you, you didn't do anything to put him back in his place. Remember how you were all about taking the high road? Well, apparently the high road leads straight to musical numbers with the P.E. teacher. Now Rick thinks he can do anything to us and get away with it."

Samantha thought about this, shaking her head. "Revenge doesn't solve anything. It just makes things worse."

Rachel let out an exasperated sigh. "That depends on who's doing the revenge and who's dancing to one of Mrs. Jones's solos in front of the whole school, doesn't it?"

And then Samantha cracked a smile. "If you can think of a way to get Rick dancing to Mrs. Jones in front of the whole school, I'll consider it. Until then, I say we just let the whole thing blow over. Let Rick have his party. So what if people are starting to think of him as some kind of rock star. I've heard Rick's music and no one will be that impressed with his band once they're trapped in a room with them. Just ignore him."

Easier said than done. I live in a home that's frequently invaded by Rick. Still, I did think it would blow over. I thought his party and his attempts to get back at us wouldn't amount to anything. Which shows you that "psychic" wouldn't be a good career choice for me.

Chapter 5

I had no plans to go to Rick's party. I'm forced to see Rick more than I want, so why would I ever willingly go to a place he's performing?

My mom had other ideas. Apparently going-to-Rick}s-party fell under the category of chaperoning-my-sister, which she wanted me to do. She was convinced alcohol would turn up at the party and she wanted to make sure I could yank Adrian home as soon as it appeared.

After my mom informed me of my chaperoning duties, I called Samantha. "Hi Sam, remember how you like Rick and want to give him another chance and all that?"

"I never said that," she said.

"Well, close enough, and I need someone to go to his party with me. What are you doing Friday night?"

There was a pause and then, "Wait a minute, Chelsea, weren't you the one who spent half of English class rearranging the letters in the words, 'Rick Debrock' to see if they had a hidden Satanic meaning?"

So then I spent fifteen minutes explaining to Samantha how my mom had assigned me as Adrian's chaperone, and I was on Prohibition patrol. "I need someone to hang out with while I'm there. I mean, I can't be the only one in the room with an iPod strapped to my ears in an attempt to drown out his singing. It would look funny."