As we walked back into my room, I thought aloud, "Of all the concerts I could have gone to, why Miley Cyrus? You know I hate her."
"I know," Amanda said, just a little bitterly. "That's a real shame too. If you just gave her a chance instead of judging her right away, you'd find out she's amazing!"
"In fact..." Jessica, who was just about to open the closet and rummage through my clothes, turned around and smiled. "Why don't we give you the chance to appreciate Miley."
Oh no... I thought. I knew where this was going.
"Please no..." I begged, but Jessica didn't listen.
"No more of that classic rock and metal you call 'music,'" she said, and snapped her fingers.
I held onto my forehead while the pain welled and then faded away, leaving me exhausted by all the throbbing and hurting I'd felt that morning. Amanda ran over to the radio sitting on my desk--decorated with Hello Kitty, of course--and flipped it on. As fate would have it, the first thing we heard was "Party in the USA," and the guitar riff that instantly made me squeal.
"Oh my God, I love this song!" I yelled, and started dancing to the beat. Jessica and Amanda were practically on the floor laughing at me as I rocked back and forth and lip-synched to Miley Cyrus. Finally, Amanda managed to stifle her giggles long enough to change the radio station to what had once been my favorite station, with The Rolling Stones and Aerosmith and all the classics, but hearing Queen's "Killer Queen" now, I grimaced.
"Eww, what is this shit? Change it back to Miley!"
"Ah, ah, ah, watch your mouth, Rachel!" Amanda said sternly. She flicked the radio off. "If you want Miley, you're going to stick away from the profanity."
"Sorry..." I murmured.
"All right," Jessica said, whipping the closet open. "Now it's time to get ready for your first day in the seventh grade!"