"Max, get your keys."

"What? No. Why?"

Maude dramatically opened the newspaper she held and pointed to one of the pages. It was an ad for a local concert.

"Three bands in one night, Max! Three! These first guys do 80s covers, and then these guys," Maude paused to laugh, "I'm not sure what they do, but that guy is seriously rocking some sparkly pink leggings. And the last guys," Maude paused again for effect, "put on wigs and do Led bloody Zeppelin!"

She grinned and nodded at Max, in the most convincing way she could.

"Maude, we can't-" Maxwell started.

"Maxxy, let me remind you that mom and dad aren't coming back until eight pm tomorrow."

"Maude, let me remind you that you're fourteen and this show is at Coventry, which is a bar. A really seedy bar, where weird guys go to drink. They won't let you in."

"Hello, Max, I've got a plan! Did you really think I'd approach you without a plan?"

"I don't care if you have a plan. I'm not taking you to a bar."

Max tried to stand by his words, but twenty minutes later he was starting his Volvo with an ecstatic Maude in the passenger seat.

"Thank you, Maxwell." She sad in a sing-song voice. He rolled his eyes and laughed.

"Let's just hope this plan of yours works."

Maxwell knew her plan would work, though. Maude's plans always worked.

"Of course my plan is going to work. See, I totally know the guys in the first band. I'm going to fake-roadie for them. We've had this planned for weeks. I'll grab a drum or an amp or something, keep my head down, carry it in, and bam! I'm golden. Nobody questions a roadie."

She grinned proudly. Max had to admit, it wasn't a bad idea. Max almost never got carded. He didn't have the moxie of his sister, but he had inherited a little of the charisma gene. That, and he was tall. Max parked on the street and they both got out of the car. As expected, Max walked into Coventry with no problem. Maude headed nonchalantly over to the band she planned to fake-roadie with. They went over the plan again and handed Maude a bass drum out of the back of their car. She took it, put her head down and walked towards the door, just as planned. The drummer of the band walked with her, carrying other equipment, to make Maude look official. Maude practically buried her face in the large drum as they approached the entrance. She hoped her shoes made her look taller. Maude felt a rush of adrenaline as she walked through the doorway and realized that her plan had worked! It was almost as if the bouncer hadn't even seen her!

Nobody questions a roadie, she thought.

She spotted Max across the room and gave him a million watt grin. Maude sauntered to the stage and set the bass drum down. She spotted the members of the band and waved her arms and mouthed "Thank you!" before waltzing over to her brother.

"I can't believe it worked." Maxwell said, shaking his head.

"Oh, come on. We both know my plans always work."

Maude felt invincible. Nobody gave her a second look as long as she looked confident, like she belonged there. At the end of the night, they drove home, half asleep and over-energized all at once.

"Thanks, Maxwell." Maude said softly.

Maude went to bed wired and dreamt of bars, wigs, and, of course, sparkly pink leggings.