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There's something about roxy...

Something cool that snags her a hot job on a music video. Something wild that lands her on stage with a rock band. Something mischievous that pulls her sister Jane into trouble. Something sweet that finds her the romance of her life!

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New York Minute

HarperEntertainment

"Ladies and gentlemen! Madison Square Garden is proud to present the hottest new star in music! The one, the only . . . Roxxxxy Ryannnnn!" Seventeen-year-old Roxanne Ryan stepped in front of her bedroom mirror, drumsticks in her hand, and struck her best rock-and-roll pose. She closed her eyes, imagining an arena filled with eager fans. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the ON button on the CD and listened to the opening of her favorite Doll Head track. Crisp, clean, perfect.

Eyes shut tightly, she started to drum along with the band, pounding out rhythms on her dresser, her desk and finally moving over to her drum set.

Now she was part of the music-part of the band. Nothing except the music and the moment. Still, Roxy couldn't resist sneaking a peek at her own image in the mirror.

That's it, she thought, shaking her wavy blond hair, furrowing her brow, and puckering her lips. That's "the face"--the face of a rock legend.

She topped off her drum solo with a forceful clang of the cymbal, and the fans went crazy. They chanted her name in unison, Roxy . . . Roxy . . . Roxy . . .

"Roxy!"

The dream seemed so real now, Roxy swore she could hear a crazed fan standing right next to her.

"Earth to Roxy! Will you please knock it off?"Roxy opened her eyes and faced reality. Madison Square Garden was really her bedroom on Long Island. And the crazed fan was her twin sister, Jane, who stood in the doorway with her arms folded across her chest.

"What's up?" Roxy asked.

Jane sighed. "What's up is your drums. What is not up is me sleeping. Just how many solos do you plan on playing tonight? I was supposed to be on my first dream thirty-seven minutes ago."Roxy looked at her watch. "What's the biggie, Jane? It's only nine o'clock." Then she noticed Jane was already in her pajamas. "Why are you going to bed so early anyway?"

"I'm trying to rest up for my big day tomorrow," Jane replied.

"Big day?" Roxy shot back. "Come on, all you're doing tomorrow is taking the train to Washington, D.C."

"Not exactly," Jane responded. "I've got to register at the John Adams School and pick my classes and meet the kids. This is a big deal to me, Roxy. It's the summer before senior year and you know how much I want to get the McGill Scholarship to go to England for a year when I graduate.This program will really help me. I've got goals. "Roxy couldn't believe her ears. "Like I don't have goals?" she said, pointing to her drum set. "My friend Justin's father got me an awesome gig. Tomorrow I'll be helping the Doll Heads record their Raw album. Now that's a big deal."

"How is that going to help you get into college? Are you applying to Doll Head University?" Jane asked.

"Hey!" Roxy objected. "The Doll Heads are a major band on a major record label, and this is their first acoustic album. This is rock-and-roll history in the making, and I'll be there to help."

"How?" Jane asked. "By getting them coffee?"

Roxy shrugged. "You're just jealous."

"No, I just need a little peace and quiet," Jane replied. "Your drums are even driving Ringo nuts."

Roxy glanced at the large reptile tank sitting on her cluttered dresser. Her pet python slithered around a large rock. "Ringo loves it when I play. Don't you, baby?" she said, leaning over the tank. Then she turned back to her sister. "I hope the Addams Family School appreciates your sense of humor."

"It's the John Adams School, not the Addams Family School, and it's the best precollege program in the country." Jane said. "And believe it or not, it's also going to be fun. Living on a college campus "

"Meeting college guys?" Roxy interrupted.

"Who knows?" Jane added with a mischievous smile. "I just hope I can keep up. I want to do really well and go for that scholarship."

"Relax. You always do well," she said, gesturing at her sister's perfectly pressed pj's, her perfectly scrubbed face, and her perfectly smooth hair. "So stop stressing and go to bed."

"I will," Jane replied, "as soon as you stop pounding on those drums."

"Hey, I'm not pounding. This is my music." Roxy felt herself getting angry now.

"Oh, get over yourself," Jane said.

"You get over yourself!" Roxy said.

A deep voice interrupted the argument. "How about you both get over yourselves--and give me a break while you're at it?" Their father, Dr. Ryan, stood in the bedroom doorway glaring at them. "What's this all about?"

"Dad, Roxy won't stop playing her drums," Jane snapped, "and I need to rest up for tomorrow's trip."

Dr. Ryan gave Roxy a look, and she knew in an instant she would lose this battle. Jane just doesn't understand my world at all, she thought.

"Roxy, maybe you should ease up on the drums," he said gently, "just for tonight. Jane will be gone for three weeks. Then you can practice all you want. Okay?"

Roxy nodded. "Fine," she said, and she flopped onto her bed as if she didn't care. "See you in three weeks, Jane."

"Works for me," Jane mumbled as she left the room.

Dr. Ryan started to close Roxy's door, but he paused for one last remark. "Try to be supportive of your sister, Rox. Tomorrow's a big day for her."

Roxy bit her tongue as the door closed and her father padded down the hall. What about my big day? she wondered. Why can't anyone see that tomorrow's a big day for me too? This is a huge opportunity. This is my future.

She turned her head on her pillow and gazed at the glass reptile cage. Ringo slowly raised his head from beneath the rocks. "We'll show 'em, won't we, Ringo?" she whispered. "We'll show 'em that I have a future too . . . in rock-and-roll history." She closed her eyes and listened to the cheers of her adoring fans.

Imaginary fans, yes. But, hey, it was a start.

#

By the time Roxy woke up the next morning Jane was already gone. It was just as well, Roxy figured. They both could use the following three weeks apart to cool down after last night's argument.Dressing in jeans and a vintage Led Zeppelin T-shirt, she flew down the stairs and stopped in front of a framed picture of her mother. This is it, Mom, Roxy said silently. My first big step into the music biz. She leaned over and kissed the photograph-a ritual she and her sister performed every day.

Her mom seemed to smile back proudly, her face captured in a sunny candid shot from two years ago. In fact, it was one of the last pictures taken of her before she died.

Then Roxy turned and headed for the kitchen, grabbing a quick bite to eat and kissing Dad's cheek before leaving for the train station.Forty minutes on the Long Island Railroad and a subway ride later, Roxy found her way to the ultracool meatpacking district in lower Manhattan. The streets were paved with ancient cracked cobblestones, but most of the old buildings had been transformed into hip new boutiques, restaurants, and art galleries.

This must be the place, Roxy thought, matching the address on a slip of paper to a number on the steel door of a blocky brick warehouse.

She pushed a white button, and a loud buzzer unlocked the door.

"Rock-and-roll history, here I come," she said.

As soon as Roxy entered the hallway, she could hear a storm of activity up on the second floor: cymbals crashing, guitars being tuned, voices shouting. Her heart pounding, she slowly climbed the concrete stairs at the end of the hall.

Be cool, she told herself.

A young man holding a clipboard greeted her at the top of the stairs.

A pencil was tucked behind his ear, and his long hair was plastered against his temples by black-framed glasses. "Oh, hi. And you are...?" he asked.

"Roxy Ryan," she answered. "I'm supposed to be a production assistant."

"Ryan . . ....