Mixtape for the End of the World Read online

  ANDREW J BRANDT

  * * *

  Blue Handle Publishing

  Amarillo, TX

  Contents

  Also By Andrew J Brandt:

  Title Page 2

  Chapter 1

  ♪ Collective Soul – Heavy ♪

  Chapter 2

  ♪ Pearl Jam – Even Flow ♪

  Chapter 3

  ♪ Goo Goo Dolls – Fallin’ Down ♪

  Chapter 4

  ♪ Buckcherry – Lit Up ♪

  Chapter 5

  ♪ Tal Bachman – She’s So High ♪

  Chapter 6

  ♪ Eve 6 – Inside Out ♪

  Chapter 7

  ♪ Silverchair – Tomorrow ♪

  Chapter 8

  ♪ New Radicals – You Get What You Give ♪

  Chapter 9

  ♪ Live – I Alone ♪

  Chapter 10

  ♪ Lit – My Own Worst Enemy ♪

  Chapter 11

  ♪Nirvana – Smells Like Teen Spirit♪

  Chapter 12

  ♪ Matchbox Twenty – Argue ♪

  Chapter 13

  ♪ Creed – Illusion ♪

  Chapter 14

  ♪ Incubus– Pardon Me ♪

  Chapter 15

  ♪ Bush – Comedown ♪

  Chapter 16

  ♪ Incubus – Stellar ♪

  Chapter 17

  ♪ Gin Blossoms – Hey Jealousy ♪

  Chapter 18

  ♪ Pearl Jam – Spin the Black Circle♪

  Chapter 19

  ♪ Filter – Take A Picture ♪

  Chapter 20

  ♪Vertical Horizon – You’re A God♪

  Chapter 21

  ♪ Silverchair – Ana’s Song (Open Fire) ♪

  Chapter 22

  ♪ Bush – Letting the Cables Sleep ♪

  Chapter 23

  ♪ U2 – One ♪

  Chapter 24

  ♪ Our Lady Peace – One Man Army ♪

  Chapter 25

  ♪ Collective Soul – Tremble for My Beloved ♪

  Chapter 26

  ♪U2 – Until the End of the World♪

  Chapter 27

  ♪ Tonic – You Wanted More ♪

  Picture Unavailable

  Picture Unavailable Excerpt

  A NOTE FROM

  About the Author

  Also By Andrew J Brandt:

  Young Adult

  The Treehouse

  The Abduction of Sarah Phillips

  Palo Duro

  Picture Unavailable (2022)

  * * *

  Adult

  In the Fog

  The Unwinding Cable Car

  Early Praise for Mixtape for the End of the World

  “Mixtape for the End of the World is a heartfelt and heartwarming look at being a teenager. Full of late-90’s nostalgia and young romance, it will make you miss the ‘good ol’ days.’”

  -Readers’ Favorite 5-star review

  * * *

  “A sweet story about the importance of teenage friendship and finding your place, Mixtape for the End of the World is guaranteed to transport you back to the 90s.”

  -Jen Morris, author of Love in the City

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  “A coming-of-age story that strikes all the right notes. For anyone old enough to have made a mixtape, this nostalgia trip will be every hug your parents forgot to give you.”

  -Derek Porterfield, author of No-Mod and Godless

  Blue Handle Publishing

  Amarillo, TX

  * * *

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  * * *

  Copyright © 2021 Andrew J Brandt

  * * *

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or any portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information, address:

  Blue Handle Publishing

  2608 Wolflin #963

  Amarillo, TX 79109

  * * *

  First Ebook Edition May 2021

  * * *

  For information about bulk, educational and other special discounts,

  please contact

  Blue Handle Publishing.

  * * *

  Blue Handle Publishing can bring Andrew J Brandt to your live event. For more information or to book an event, contact Blue Handle Publishing.

  * * *

  www.bluehandlepublishing.com

  * * *

  Cover Design: Derek Porterfield

  Interior Design: Caprock Concepts

  Editing: Brandon Biggers

  * * *

  Print ISBN: 9798573489360

  Created with Vellum

  To Ellie

  For everyone who has supported every crazy dream I’ve ever had.

  * * *

  To every Derrick, AJ and Dustin out there.

  * * *

  And to Jennifer—life with you is better than any dream.

  1

  ♪ Collective Soul – Heavy ♪

  AT 11:59PM ON December 31, 1999, the world would end. All the computers would shut down, the satellites would fall from the sky and all the rich people would hole up in their bunkers until it was safe to come out. The news every day was inundated with talks of the coming aftermath of something called Y2K.

  Derrick wondered, staring out the window from the backseat of his mother’s Toyota Corolla, how it had come to this. How could the smartest minds that ever lived, who created the computers on which everything ran, have missed this one thing? It had something to do with two digits, the 19 in front of the 99. And once it rolled over to 00, making the computers think that it was actually 1900 and not 2000, it was all over. It was all their fault.

  He would be witness to the end of the world, and he would do it without any of the friends he grew up with. That thought made him more sad than anything.

  Ahead of them, the U-Haul driven by Doug, his mom’s fiancé, took the exit from the highway and after a few more minutes, they were on Main Street of this small town that would be their new home. The wedding wasn’t until the first weekend of October, but Doug and their mother had sat the kids down around the weekend of July 4th and told them the plan. She would transfer her position as bank officer to a branch in Mount Vernon.

  The soon-to-be-newlyweds were much more excited about it than Derrick was, though he feigned happiness. In reality, he was just…sad. Sad to move away from home, away from everything he’d known.

  Though Clearwater was a small town, it was the only place they’d ever lived. Moving to a new place in the middle of high school sounded stressful.

  Cassandra was much less diplomatic with her reaction, and she ended up crying at the kitchen table, arguing that her graduation was just two years away and she wanted to graduate in Clearwater. She, too, eventually capitulated.

  “We don’t want to move you guys in the middle of the semester, so we are going to move to Mount Vernon the week before school starts next month,” their mother had told them.

  “Dee and I both think that it will help alleviate any issues in getting acclimated to the new town and the new school instead of moving you guys in October after the wedding,” Doug had said.

  Small towns had this uncanny ability to resemble each other, their Main Street arteries lined with buildings that housed mom-and-pops, pawn shops and hardware stores. In fact, judging from the stores and the buildings, he could see that Mount Vernon wasn’t much bigge
r than the town they’d left.

  As they passed the line of stores and shops, one of the storefronts caught his attention. An electric guitar hung in the window that faced the street, seemingly welcoming him to this new town. For a fleeting second as Derrick saw the Corolla’s pewter reflection in the store’s window, he felt happiness. He made note of the shop’s name, which was written in a bold red font on a chipping white sign above the door.

  Sherman Music Store.

  Once they were all settled into Doug’s house, with their things unpacked, Derrick vowed to visit Sherman Music Store and gawk at the instruments that he’d wish he had the money for.

  “This town looks stupid, mom,” Cassandra whined.

  Derrick and Cassandra were what some people called Irish twins, born exactly eleven months apart. They both had the same unruly hair that fell in curls, except Cassandra’s was much longer and it fell over her shoulders in coiled cascades of blonde that bounced every time they hit a pothole in the street.

  “It’s not stupid,” their mother Dee said, looking at them through the rearview mirror. “The schools here are great and you’ll make new friends in no time.”

  “Whatever. I don’t understand why we had to move here and Doug couldn’t just move to Clearwater.”

  Derrick seconded that sentiment, though silently. He also didn’t understand why the three of them had to uproot from everything they’d ever known and move three hundred miles away to this town that hugged the Red River and the Texas state line. All of their belongings, the only remnants of the home they left behind, currently resided in the box truck in front of them.

  As if she could read their collective minds, Dee glanced through the mirror again. “It made more sense for us to move here because of his job. It was easier for me to transfer here as opposed to him trying to get a position with the police department there. We’ve gone over this time and time again, Cassandra.” Her tone became more perturbed as she spoke.

  Dee and Doug had met through mutual friends, and though they lived several hours apart, had started dating. Doug would come to spend the weekends with them, but this was the first time all three of them had come to this new town. Doug was the chief of the local police department. He didn’t have any kids of his own and though he’d been kind and loving toward Derrick and Cassandra, Derrick still held his reservations about moving in with him.

  “Well, it’s still stupid,” Cassandra huffed, though she stared out the window to avert their mother’s stern stare.

  To break up the tension, Derrick asked, “When does school start here?”

  “Next week,” Dee said.

  “Do they have a music program?”

  “They do. Doug was telling me you’ll really like the music teacher, too,” Dee answered. She gave him a smile. “Look, guys,” she said as they turned onto a residential street, “this is going to be a learning experience for all three of us. Doug loves both of you like you’re his own. Just be patient and courteous.”

  The houses that lined the street looked like mansions compared to the three-bedroom-one-bathroom home they left behind in Clearwater. Large archways and covered porticos ringed the two-story brick homes. Even Cassandra’s attitude changed when she saw the homes.

  “This is where we’re going to live?” she said, her jaw wide open.

  “Yes it is. I told you that you guys would like it here,” Dee said with a happy grin.

  Derrick stared at it all. The houses looked huge, but he was homesick already for Clearwater. He knew where everything was back home. He knew that it was only six blocks from the house to the convenience store where he’d buy a Mountain Dew and then another four blocks to the library or five blocks to RadioShack. This new town was so foreign and he already felt claustrophobic.

  Ahead of them, the U-Haul pulled into the driveway of one of the houses. Two stories like many of the rest, it was a light yellow brick home with a large front yard immaculately trimmed and green. Dee pulled the Corolla in behind the U-Haul as Doug backed the truck up to the garage doors.

  Dee parked the car and they all got out as Doug hopped out of the large truck and stretched. “Man, that thing is a beating to drive,” he said. He was tall and lanky, but with wide shoulders. When he smiled, his top lip disappeared beneath his salt-and-pepper mustache. Dee gave him a large hug, the top of her head with her blonde hair tied in a bun barely reaching the top of his chest. Embracing her, Doug told them all, “Welcome to your new home. I hope you like it.”

  Derrick looked around at the surrounding homes on the block. Across the street, a large white cottage-style home housed a Range Rover in the circular driveway in front. It was much nicer than anything back in Clearwater. The houses here looked like something doctors and attorneys would live in and it felt so much different from their neighborhood he’d grown up in.

  Cassandra blurted out, “Wow! These houses are so nice!”

  Doug chuckled. “This is one of the older neighborhoods here in Mount Vernon, back when they built this style. Why don’t we go inside for a Dr. Pepper before we start unloading it all? I’ll show you your bedrooms.”

  Cassandra beamed and looked at Derrick. “Come on,” she said excitedly. “Let’s go in!”

  She walked ahead of him, her frizzy hair bouncing on her shoulders as she did. Doug opened the garage door from the panel mounted beside it.

  “If you guys need to go in through here, the code is my birthday, 1113,” he said as the mechanism roared to life and the door lifted. Inside the garage sat a Toyota Tacoma pickup and a black motorcycle.

  Derrick’s eyes went straight to the motorcycle.

  “No, sir,” Dee said, probably sensing his widened gaze at the Honda Rebel. “Don’t even think about it.”

  “It’s a beginner’s bike,” Doug chimed in. “It would be good for you to learn on, but definitely with supervision.”

  Dee shot him a look and Doug shrugged his shoulders. “What? I was riding motorcycles when I was his age.”

  Dee shook her head and as she walked into the house from the garage, Doug turned to Derrick. “She’s the queen of this castle now, so we have to do what she says.”

  Derrick smiled and agreed. He liked Doug well enough. He was always kind to them when he’d come to Clearwater to spend time with them, but he knew that it would be different with them all living together now.

  Doug held the door open and Derrick stepped in under the man’s arm and looked around. It was huge, and open. Doug had obviously spent some time making sure the place was spotless and clean, something Derrick knew would impress his mom. She always kept their home back in Clearwater immaculate, even if his own bedroom constantly looked like a laundry bomb had gone off.

  “This is it,” Doug announced. “Pantry is over there, fridge and stove, of course. The living room is here,” he pointed to the room with a large leather sectional that sat in front of an enormous Pioneer television. The screen was huge, at least five feet wide and it sat on a pedestal that housed the speakers.

  “That is the biggest television I have ever seen!” Cassandra exclaimed.

  “Yup, and I’ve got a PlayStation and a Nintendo 64 hooked up to it,” Doug said, much to the excitement of both Derrick and Cassandra. Derrick couldn’t wait to play Tony Hawk on that giant screen.

  “Which we will only play after homework is done,” Dee said.

  Cassandra whined again. “Oh come on, mom! School doesn’t start til next week!”

  “Right,” Dee said. “Which means we only have a week to get you registered and make sure the curriculum here matches what you guys had in Clearwater.”

  Cassandra groaned. Derrick just stared at it all. Above the mantle in the living room, a picture of Doug sat in a dusty frame. He was much younger in the picture, wearing a uniform. Mounted to the frame was a gold nameplate that read Douglas J. Reynolds, Academy Class 1992. He’d only been a police officer for seven years, which made Derrick wonder how he became Chief so quickly or so young. Back in Clearwater, th
e chief of police was always an old gray-haired man with a burly mustache. It seemed strange. Beside the academy photo, there were other pictures too, and Derrick saw that he had one of Dee and the kids already up there.

  “Come on, I’ll show you the bedrooms,” Doug said.

  He led them through a long hallway. “The master suite is upstairs, which means you two will get plenty of privacy down here,” he said over his shoulder.

  “This one is yours, Cassandra,” he said, opening the door. Inside, the walls were painted a light yellow. It was large and open, with plenty of room for her vanity and dresser.

  She squealed with excitement. “This is great!” she said.

  Doug laughed. “There’s a jack-and-jill bathroom between the two rooms, and you each have your own sink. And then,” he opened the door to the second bedroom at the end of the hall. Doug grinned at Derrick. “This one is yours.”

  Inside, the room was a plain white square with beige carpet.