My Year of Epic Rock (11 page)

“I asked Tiernan if you guys needed help with the band. You know, to help move equipment for the show.”

Oh.

That was unexpected. Unexpectedly awesome!

By then we were standing in front of Tiernan and Madison and Shane.

“Ethan says he wants to help with the band,” I told them.

“We could use the help,” Madison said. “Even if you don't have any allergies, you're still allowed to be an EpiPen.”

“I'm kind of sneezy around dust, does that count?” Ethan said.

“Hmm.” I pretended to think it over.

Madison nodded. “Sure, sneezy counts,” she said.

“Totally!” I got so excited about the idea of Ethan hanging out with the band that I gave his arm a squeeze, flirty Shelley style. Then I jumped back about ten feet like I'd done something weird. Which I had. But he smiled bigger anyway and rubbed his hair so it got all mussed up.

It made him look ridiculously cute.

“So when's the next practice? I should come too, right?” Ethan asked, standing slightly closer to me so that his gray and white sneaker touched the tip of my boot. Even though my boots were about three inches thick and padded with enough stuffing to fill a pillow, my whole foot got instantly warmer from the contact.

Ethan and Shane started talking, and Shane was entering his address into Ethan's phone.

Tiernan took a close-up picture without warning, the flash startling Ethan, leaving him blinking. “I'm going to send Heidi a photo of you while she's away so she knows we have a roadie.”

Tiernan adjusted his phone. “Here, let me take another one. Shane, Madison, squeeze in there.”

Ethan leaned in toward me, really close.

“Say ‘Cheddar!'” Tiernan said.

“Cheddar!” We all yelled back.

Tiernan took another picture, but his flash didn't go off that time. I wondered if it was because my huge, goofy, grinning, beaming face was giving off enough light all on its own.

• • •

“Can I hang with you guys?” Ethan asked when he came back a few minutes later with his tray of chicken nuggets and other brown-colored food, bypassing his usual table of kids with Frisbees. “Am I even allowed to sit here, or do you, like, have to get permission?”

“Dude, you can eat. Relax,” Tiernan said.

“Yeah, calm down, Ethan,” Madison said. “We just sit here because we like each other. You won't kill us. Heidi doesn't have any allergies and she sits here and never gets into trouble.”

“Agreed,” I added. “You have to sit here. You're with the band now.”

Ethan still looked tense. I would have felt bad for him, but I was too busy being happy that he was right there next to me.

“We just can't kiss someone after they've eaten a peanut,” Madison said casually, as she was scribbling in her notebook.

Wait, what? Why was she talking about kissing all of a sudden?

“Yeah, it's kind of awkward,” Shane said. “One time when we still lived in the city, I was at this school dance, and—”

“Hey, is that Principal Fontella riding a scooter?” I said, desperate to interrupt Shane. It was hard enough to get my nerve up to sit next to Ethan without anyone discussing making out.

“What?” everyone said, turning around to look in the direction I'd pointed.

“Oh, wait, false alarm, that's not her,” I said, pretending to scan the room. “I must have been seeing things.”

“So when is Heidi back again?” Shane said to Tiernan.

“Not until Tuesday.”

“That doesn't give us much time to practice,” Shane said. “I think we should get together without her, and then when she's back, she can jump in. Maybe we can call and put her on speakerphone so she can sing along.”

“I'll ask her,” Tiernan said, already texting. “But let's definitely practice tomorrow no matter what. I can't today because I have to go see Dr. Obvious. Ethan, my mom can give you a ride home afterward if you want. We usually ride to Shane's house on the bus after school.”

“Do you bring your drums each time?” Ethan asked me.

“Mmmm. Wait, what?” I was confused because I wasn't listening. Instead I was looking at how cute Ethan was with his black tee. It was so new it was almost shiny and still had the creases where it had been folded.

“Oh, I mean, no, Shane's dad has a whole studio downstairs with drums and everything. It's awesome. You'll see it tomorrow.”

“Cool,” Ethan said, bumping into me with his shoulder. On purpose.

“Yeah,” I nodded, blushing. “Cool.”

“Also, we should shoot our music video as soon as Heidi comes back,” Shane said. “Something on a beach, maybe? With a bonfire? Or wait, no, at an abandoned old-timey carnival!”

“Shane, the nearest beach is about forty minutes away,” Madison said. “And probably closed for the season. What do you mean carnival? Like, we're dressed up as clowns?”

“Maybe we should focus on learning the songs for the show,” I added. “We're still not quite there yet. At least I need more practice.”

“Okay, but we can't wait too long. A hot band's window is only open for a little while and then bam!” Shane slapped his hands together loudly, “It's over. You know, my dad is taking his new band to Ibiza over winter break to do a shoot. I bet we could tag along.” He looked thoughtful and typed something on his phone.

Ethan looked at me, like trying to see if I thought Shane was crazy too. I just shook my head. Ethan had no idea what he was in for.

“Nina? Nina? Hey, Nina!”

Someone was nudging me in the shin with a hot pink, glitter- and paint-flecked sneaker.

I looked up at Madison, straightening iron in one hand, her blond hair pulled away from her head in the other. “Are you there? I asked you the same question five times!” Madison was looking at me funny.

“Sorry, I wasn't listening.”

How could I listen to anything she said when my heart was beating so fast and so loud that it blocked out all other sounds? Could a twelve-year-old die from nerves? What was that thing—the vapors—in all the old stories? I had the vapors!

“I said, ‘Do you want to borrow my straightener after I'm done?'” Madison spoke slowly.

I couldn't believe she was focusing on how her hair looked while I was busy freaking out about how I might self-combust on stage out of fear.

“Relax!” Madison smiled at me. “We're going to have fun.”

Heidi looked at me and shook her head, a little of the glitter that she'd put in her hair shaking out with the movement. She and I both already discussed that Madison's lack of nerves was impressive, but also very, very bizarre.

Leslie, Madison's mom, who refused to let anyone call her by her last name, said she did “a lot of theater in college” and offered to do up all of the girls' makeup for the talent show. Heidi looked great—dramatic and rock-star-y, with white eyeliner and glitter on her cheekbones. I looked cool, in a way, but also strange—it wasn't my face staring back at me in the mirror. Plus my eyelashes felt all heavy from the mascara, like they were being weighed down. I kept blinking in confusion. I usually just wear lip gloss.

Madison's mom held out two bottles. “Nina, green or purple hair?”

“Green. But just a little!” I covered my face and held my breath while she sprayed away.

I looked at myself when she was done—I had one perfect streak on each side, framing my face. I felt a tiny peep of happy excitement in my chest pushing up against the scary peep.

Heidi skipped the streaks, and Madison picked a combo of both—“Don't leave a single hair unsprayed,” she told her mom. When Leslie was done, Madison looked like a stuffed animal come to life. Madison pronounced it “perfect.”

Maybe we were going to be okay.

“We should get going,” Leslie said. “You need time to get ready at school and to do your deep breathing exercises.”

Apparently when you do drama stuff in college, taking long, slow breaths before any performance is a huge deal. Leslie was very into us screaming as loud as we could in order to find our “true primal voices” too. Whatever that meant.

We left Madison's room in total chaos, grabbing just what we needed before racing out to the car. All three of us squeezed into the back seat together.

Heidi's phone quacked. Madison and I turned to stare at her, and then we both dissolved into giggles. Heidi blushed.

“It's Tiernan. He wanted his own sound for when he texts me.”

They were so cute it was ridiculous. Baby koala bears–level cute. Of course Tiernan would pick a duck and not, say, a loud motorcycle noise or a hit song or a burp.

I had to admit, I was kind of envious of them. They were a couple. Other than seeing Ethan when we were with everyone at school or practice, which, granted, was a lot, he and I hadn't done any hanging out just us two. And he hadn't called me since that one night after my allergic reaction nightmare.

He was super friendly to me, but he was like that to everyone. It was so hard to tell if he had a crush on me the way Heidi insisted he did, or only considered me a friend. In my mind, though, I always pretended that he did like me. It was a nice feeling. Beyond nice. An awesome one.

“Tiernan says the guys are already there and to hurry up,” Heidi said, putting her phone back in her faded jean jacket pocket. With her skinny black jeans and black boots and her hair and makeup, Heidi looked like a real lead singer of a band. I just wore regular jeans and sneakers and a black long-sleeved tee. I debated something more “member of the band” and less “I'm hanging out with friends after school,” but my dad pointed out that plenty of famous rock stars wear jeans and sneakers. I didn't look flashy, but I felt comfortable. Besides, with sneakers, I had added insurance that I wouldn't wipe out walking on or off the stage.

Just as I was thinking I wasn't scared anymore, we pulled up in front of the school. The parking lot was jammed full of cars. We couldn't find a spot, and Leslie had to pull up in front of the building to let us out so she could drive around again to park. I couldn't believe it. Who were all these people, anyway? I thought the talent show was considered a big non-event.

The
joke's on me.
I'd been counting on an audience of max fifteen or twenty people. Not a hundred. Was I going to throw up? Way to cap an already cringe-worthy few weeks.

When Madison, Heidi, and I opened the doors to the lobby, people turned to look at us.

“Whoo!” yelled someone—I couldn't see who—from the crowd.

“They look great,” I heard someone else say to the person next to her. I couldn't figure out who was who, even though I'd been going to school with these people forever.

“Guys, I am nervous. About to barf nervous.” I grabbed Heidi's hand and squeezed.

“Nina! Over here!” Ethan suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Like magic. I remember my grandma telling me once that when she was a girl and thought a boy was cute, she and her friends would say he was “dreamy.” Could there be a more perfect word for Ethan than that?

“Come with me,” he said. “Shane and Tiernan are backstage already checking out the amps and the drum set we got from the band room.” He took my hand and pulled me, and we all ran down the auditorium aisles, and Ethan took the steps to the stage two at a time. I had to let go of his hand so I could take them one at a time though.

Stumbling—not very rock star.

He turned to wait for me and smiled. I was too nervous to smile back. He reached out and took my hand again. This time it wasn't because he needed to pull me through the crowd. This time it was because he wanted to take my hand. Unless I looked like I was going to faint and he was just worried about me. But I really didn't think so anymore. No one is
that
nice.

I took a deep, cleansing breath like Leslie had taught us. “Feel it from your head down to your toes. Get energy from the earth,” she'd explained. I coughed—I guess I'd cleansed out a bit too much.

“Nina, come on!” Heidi waved to me. The rest of the band was waiting too, along with Shane's dad.

“We're on eighth,” Shane said, brandishing a clipboard. We all clustered around him. There were twelve acts total listed.

“That's perfect,” Shane's dad said. “You'll have the audience just where you want them. Ready for something to shake things up a bit but not restless to go home.”

I wasn't so sure that made sense, but whatever. Mr. McCormick certainly knew more than the rest of us about this stuff. If he said eight was lucky, then I was going to cross my fingers that he was right.

Ms. Sherf, the band teacher, was clapping her hands and trying to get everyone's attention. “People, people, listen up! We can't have everyone milling about backstage for the whole show. Go find seats in the audience, and make your way here when you're two acts away. That's two, not three or one! We'll let the audience in in five minutes, so please get yourselves situated as far forward as possible to avoid disruptions.”

“Come on, let's grab our seats now,” Tiernan said, and we all trooped out from behind the stage to the auditorium, along with a bunch of the other kids who'd been backstage with us too, including one sixth grade girl in a magician's cape and an eighth grade boy wearing a fancy suit and sneakers.

The EpiPens got seats in the second row, all together. I sat in between Madison and Heidi, who sat next to Tiernan. I'd wanted to sit with Ethan, but I didn't want to seem obvious about it. Sometimes in my quest to avoid looking stupid, I do really stupid things. The good thing at least was if I had a full-on freak out, he wouldn't notice.

The doors opened, and a wave of sound made its way through the auditorium. I turned around to stare—and to look for my parents or Jackson. It seemed like the entire school had shown up for the night.

“Oh. My. God.” Heidi mouthed to us.

“Why are so many people here?” Madison said. “The talent show wasn't ever this huge before, was it?”

“I told you guys!” Shane said, looking smug. “Word of mouth, baby, word of mouth.”

Just then I saw Jackson, who started waving his arms, yelling, “Mom, I found her, she's right here!”

“Shh!” I said, but nobody really noticed him; it was way too loud in the auditorium. Mom and Dad came up to my row. Mom was holding flowers that I knew were for me, because they were yellow tulips, my favorite.

“Hi, guys.” I was relieved to see them. At least three people would be cheering for us.

“We're sitting right back there,” Mom said, pointing toward the middle of the auditorium. “It sure is crowded here. How exciting.”

“Right? I can't believe it either,” I said. Not sure exciting was the word I would have chosen.

“Have a great show. We'll find you when it's over. May the rock be with you!” Dad said, patting me on the shoulder, and they all walked back up the aisle to their seats.

The lights dimmed, and one person whistled super loud, which made people laugh. Finally it got quiet. Principal Fontella came out onto the stage, wearing black pants and a blazer instead of her normal gray skirt suit. She didn't even look principal-y.

“Welcome, everyone, to the annual Woodgrove Halloween Talent Show. We're so thrilled to see such a wonderful turnout. Please, let's take a moment to thank Ms. Sherf for helping organize this event, and for being the emcee for the evening.”

The audience applauded politely as Ms. Sherf walked out on to the stage and took the microphone.

“Thank you, Principal Fontella. We have so many talented students here tonight, so let's get right to it. Let's give a warm welcome to our first act, Robert Wilcox, who will share his comedy with us.”

The kid wearing the suit came out on stage, holding what looked like an unlit cigar.

“Thanks, everyone. I just flew in from California, and boy, are my arms tired.” I slunk down in my seat and closed my eyes.

Don't throw up. Don't throw up.

I kept them squeezed shut during the second act too (“Magic by Margaret”) and third (“CheerUp!”) with what sounded like about eighteen girls on stage yelling. The audience actually applauded for each act—maybe they weren't giving standing ovations or acting like their lives were forever changed, but at least no one was hurling spitballs or yelling, “BOO!” at anyone. That was promising.

I looked around again. People were having fun. I couldn't believe how well things were going so far.

The sixth act (“Al Cap 'n' Ella”) took the stage—three eighth graders who sang “Landslide” with no instruments. They sounded incredible.

Crap.

“Guys, come on!” Tiernan was whispering to us as the audience applauded “Al Cap 'n' Ella,” and they started to sing another song that I didn't recognize. “We have to go backstage and get ready.”

We got up and snuck to the side of the auditorium and backstage. I heard a few people whisper behind us as we went. “What are they going to sing?” and “Is that them?”

Them
who? Wait,
them, us?
No
way!

Act number seven (“A Poem by Duane”) was introduced, but I couldn't hear much of what he was saying over the sound of my breathing and beating heart.

“Group hug,” Madison said, pulling everyone closer. We all hugged.

“Go Epis!” Shane said, giving high fives and fist bumps to each of us. We heard applause. Ms. Sherf hurried us along—we grabbed our instruments, with Ethan helping, and Tiernan slung his guitar over his shoulder. We were as ready as we'd ever be.

“Our next act is the band, The EpiPens, singing ‘Cruel to be Kind.' Welcome, EpiPens! We hope the audience won't be cruel, but they'll be kind to you.” Ms. Sherf laughed at her own joke. That was so not how they intro bands at the MTV Music Awards.

The crowd got quiet. The curtain went up. I couldn't see into the audience at all—not Mom or Dad or anyone.

“Ready?” I said, my voice only trembling a tiny bit, as I turned to make sure my band mates were all set. I clicked my sticks once, but then Tiernan yelled, “Wait!”

I froze.

His guitar strap had come undone, and I saw him struggling to snap it back on. Heidi stepped over to help him, and I heard a few giggles from the audience. Tiernan seemed flustered, and when he said, “Okay, now we're ready,” his voice cracked a little.

I looked around at them and nodded. My hands were shaking so hard I was worried I wouldn't be able to drum, but I clicked my sticks four times, and we launched into the song.

I got snippets of music and sound and images—Heidi hitting her notes, Tiernan's head moving along with his playing, but it all happened so fast I didn't even have time to think—just drum. And then we were done, and I couldn't believe it. Had I even had time to breathe once?

There was a moment and then everyone in the auditorium started to applaud, like not the so-so way they did with “CheerUp!” but super loud and excited. The lights came up and I could see people standing and yelling. We'd done it!

One
more?
Shane mouthed to us, and as the crowd kept clapping, we sang our second song, “Bitter Little Shame Puppet,” by The Flax Seeds.

I admit, the song wasn't quite as awesome as “Cruel to be Kind,” but it gave Madison an opportunity to do her flute solo. She totally rocked it. When she started playing, people were, like, screaming and stomping their feet and acting like the flute was the coolest thing around. Madison didn't seem fazed at all by the reaction. She just finished her solo, and we all launched into the final verse.