TITLE: DUDE (LOOKS LIKE A LADY)
GENRE: YA Contemporary
If I hear another song from Grease, I'm going to freaking punch someone.
Ever since the spring musical was announced, my sister's done nothing but sing songs from the show: in the bathroom; at dinner; in the car, to and from school. Like, right now. Alexandra's bouncing in the passenger seat, singing, occasionally primping her ponytail in the side mirror when there's an apparent break in the lyrics. And I say apparent because she's singing along to the music from her iPod, earbuds plugged in, so all I get to hear is her.
The singing's not horrible. Actually, Alexandra's got a pretty awesome voice (not that I'd ever tell her that), but "Summer Nights" 24/7? Her and Dylan doing the "Hand Jive" in the living room for the past two months? Singing a stanza over and over again until it's perfect?
Someone please kill me.
I crank up Panama's stereo and try to tune out her a cappella performance with Aerosmith. Alexandra flashes me a pitiful sneer, huffs dramatically, then sings louder. I yank a bud out of her ear and point at my stereo.
"Ow!" she exclaims.
"Do you mind?"
She tsks. "I'm rehearsing for my callback today, thank you very much, and I have to make sure it's flawless. I'd have the best junior year ever if Mr. Fonda cast me as Sandy." She pulls down the passenger-side mirror, appraises herself, and sings, "Look at me, I'm Sandra Dee-"
"Lousy with virginity," I mutter. "Yep. You're perfect for the part."