18 Things (14 page)

They announced they were ready and the small crowd cheered, clearly the hometown favorite.

“Thanks for your patience. I’m Nate. On electric guitar, we have Sean, and on drums, we have Kyle. To our right, you can buy the CD. It’s underneath the green tent with white stripes. Also, starting today, we have available the newly handmade Cantankerous Monkey Squad shirts. Olga, stand up, please, so we can thank you properly for all your hard work.”

I wanted to crawl underneath a slide, as I did when I was in kindergarten, and make myself small, then wait for Conner to rescue me. All eyes trained on me, and suddenly, I found the ground very interesting. At least I had my merchandise table to hide behind.

“This next song is titled
Return
.” Nate’s ocean blue eyes rolled in the back of his head, reminding me of Conner’s death.

Shivers tingled down my spine.

Several girls to my left held up their hands, swaying to the music and batting their eyelashes at the guys, like real groupies. The entire crowd forgot about their lawn chairs and danced around, a blur of red, white, and blue, complete with a standing ovation as the cymbals hummed the last note.

The crowd cheered and clapped.

Nate found me and stared, but a guy to my left distracted me, repeatedly yelling, “Yeah, baby!”

Clapping my hands, I joined his praise, and for some reason, I felt compelled to speak with him. “Seems you liked what you heard.”

He nodded and took a sip from his red solo cup. “They are really entertaining. There aren’t a whole lot of young bands that can play well and still be interesting to watch live.”

I rocked back and forth on my heels and checked him out. He wore a red spandex muscle shirt, but I tried not to hold that against him because I got a hunch this guy was someone important. “My name’s Olga. I’m kinda like their groupie. Uh, not in every sense of the word. I make their T-shirts.”

I wiped the chip grease onto Mom’s skirt, then held out my hand.

His handshake was firm. “I’m Alan. I scout out talent at different events like Music Walk and Battle of the Bands.”

A girl walked by, distributing a business ad in the form of a hand-fan made from heavy cardstock and a light wood handle like a Popsicle stick, which reminded me how Conner and I could go through a whole box of Creamsicles on a summer day like this. I wondered if he had anything to do with this serendipitous meeting with Alan. “So, do you like, work for a record label?”

He nodded. “Yes, for a small, independent label Mixed Tape.”

Taking another sip of water and fanning myself, I tried to keep my cool as I felt the perfect timing of divine intervention clicking together. “So, are you gonna offer them a record deal?”

Wind blew a thick cloud of his bad cologne my way and I coughed as he cocked his head to the side and smiled. “I wish. I don’t have that kind of clout. I can only meet with the band and report what I like to my boss. If he thinks they’re sellable, then he’ll tell me to set up a gig for them so he can see them play. If he likes them, that’s when the ball starts rolling.”

The guys cleared their equipment from the stage, and Nate stepped up to the microphone. “We’re Cantankerous Monkey Squad. Don’t forget to like us on Facebook and check out a bonus track on YouTube. And go buy a T-shirt! Peace out.”

“Well, duty calls,” I said, holding out my hand to Alan.

His cell phone rang, and he mumbled a ‘Nice meeting you,’ then took off.

A warm glow spread throughout my body as I headed toward the tent. Nicole and Tammy helped me for the next two hours, but I was too excited for the band to think straight. Making correct change proved too difficult for my brain.

“Who’s talking to the band?” Nicole asked, accepting a twenty from someone, then she handed them back a five and three ones, completing the sale of the last T-shirt.

I couldn’t believe we sold out.

I spied the guys talking to Alan by the stage and smiled. “Number three on my list.”

We gathered the tin full of money and the now empty boxes and then headed back to the stadium seating. Twelve bands performed two songs each, and now they were ready to crown the new winner.

“Thank you,” the lead singer from last year’s winning band announced as the huge crowd screamed. “First, on behalf of the promoter for this event, Big Jimbo, I’d like to thank our five local celeb judges. They stepped up to volunteer for the impossible task of choosing the top three performances. Today’s extremely talented bands came from all over the country.

“All three will take home a cash prize, but top dog will also leave with some free studio recording time. Third prize, all the way from Cleveland, is Jasperwal. Second place, from just across the lake in Milwaukee, Under the Joshua Tree.”

Weird both band names are references from the Bible.

“And first place, from right here in Grand Haven, our very own Cantankerous Monkey Squad.”

I closed my eyes, appreciating the applause and all the support the band earned from the community, and I wished Conner experienced this achievement with me. After a minute, I looked around Waterfront Stadium, the setting sun shining the last of its rays on the stage.

I sighed at the official end of summer, and prayed I didn’t get any death threats tomorrow.

“If you’re going to do something tonight
that you’ll be sorry for tomorrow morning,
sleep late.”
―Henny Youngman

n déjà vu fashion, school was the last place I wanted to be. I dressed for the first day of my senior year in a mesh Michigan football jersey and a pair of skinny jeans. Nicole had taken pity on me and brought me a new outfit yesterday when she picked me up for the festival.

Looking out across our back porch, I noticed the ducks waiting by the pond for their bread or cheerios. Since I hadn’t much company this summer, I’d taken it upon myself to feed them as part of my morning routine. Leaving them high and dry just because I was returning to school seemed cruel. I grabbed a bagel, ripped it into pieces, then threw them into our backyard while repeating a pep talk Dr. Judy gave me at our emergency session on Saturday. First, she told me to list all my blessings to help stay focused on the positive.
Okay, good things. The Jedi Order, newspaper, The Bookman, books, coffee, a second chance, the beach, Jesus, school. School?
Somehow school worked itself into my subconscious. Well, Dr. Judy said challenges are our real opportunities to know who we are and what we have the potential to be. If I could get through this year, the next one would be easier—it had to be. I had to press on and finish the race of high school, so I could apply for tons of scholarships this year. College was my only ticket out of here.

Nicole’s clicking high heels snapped me out of my reverie. “Oh, you look truly amazing in the jersey!”

I gave her a hug. “Thanks. Whoever bought it for me must have really good taste.”

“I totally do. It’s all sexy with attitude on you.”

Mom approached from behind and cleared her throat, as if she couldn’t stand to hear the word sexy describing her daughter. “Hello, Nicole. Olga, you girls should hurry so you’re not late.”

She poured herself a cup of coffee and clinked her spoon against the mug. I grabbed my backpack off the floor and clutched some books in front of me like a security blanket. Not one goodbye between us, like these past five months taught us nothing at all.

We headed toward Nicole’s shiny, silver Honda Civic in the parking lot, and Nic studied me the whole way. “What’s with the tone and glare? Your mom still mad about us sneaking out?”

I nodded. “Did you forget who my mom is? If there was a world record for grudge holding, she’d be listed in Guinness.”

“Man, parents really suck.”

“That may be the truest statement you’ve ever made. Ready to roll?”

She smiled and swaggered to the driver’s side, keys in hand. “Let’s go meet my peoplez!”

I laughed at our contradictive emotions. I couldn’t feel any less enthusiastic.

When I walked through the front doors with Nicole, everyone stared at me.

“I have a really big nose,” I told her, joining everyone else’s whispers.

Slamming lockers echoed through the hallway, making me jittery.

“What? No, you don’t. You have a strong nose.”

I blinked and swallowed the lump rising in my throat. “I was just trying to delude myself into thinking they’re gossiping about some other aspect of my life. But you really think my nose is strong? What does that mean?”

She laughed, but I held out my hand and she grasped my fingers, keeping me near, keeping me safe. A memorial plaque with Conner’s school photo on it hung on the wall to my right, a poem about Heaven beside the picture. Suddenly this place didn’t feel like a high school anymore. It felt like a funeral home.

My body shook, and I squeezed my eyes shut. “I think I’m gonna puke.”

“S.T.A.R.,” came Tammy’s perky voice behind me. “Turn around and open your eyes. You’re about to become yesterday’s news, baby.”

Two girls who’d always hung out with Tammy last year walked in together, each sporting a preggo bump.

A small gasp escaped my lips. “Baby is right.”

“God bless them both,” Nicole blurted.

I turned to Tammy. “Did you know already?”

She shook her head and put her hand on mine, then pulled me down the hall. “Nope. They’ve been M.I.A. this summer; guess now we know why. It appears everyone is just finding out. I bet they got themselves knocked up at prom. They hooked up with some guys from Lakeview that night. Anyway, they should provide a nice distraction from the Conner and Olga gossip for the rest of the year. Plus, that means two less people to compete for a cheerleading spot.”

We spotted Nate, Sean, and Kyle up ahead, standing under a handmade poster for this Friday’s pep rally. A yawning student approached them, then handed Kyle a couple of bucks in exchange for an energy drink. Kyle, always the entrepreneur, started selling them on the down low last year after the school banned energy drinks and sodas from the vending machines.

Nate turned and saw me, his goofy grin warming me from the top of my head to the bottoms of my feet.

“Good to see you,” he said.

He was no stranger to The Bookman this summer. Nicole said there was no way he really needed all those books and stuff. She thought he used ‘reading’ as an excuse to see me since I’d been grounded. As I restocked books and dusted shelves, we shared lots of animated conversations about life and dreams. Even when I handled the register for hours, he still stayed near, sharing secret smiles with me over grumpy costumers while he sat in the armchair by the window. The Jedi Order also started our Saturday morning breakfasts at Morning Star Café before my shift. My parents thought I went in early to unload shipments.